Rev It Up (8 page)

Damn. It was way past time he took the advice of the venerable Young MC and
checked
his
libido
.

“So that’s a no,” he said, smiling and feeling some of his tension dissolve.

His mission to win her over was going to be a whole hell of a lot easier to accomplish without another man involved. And he was glad for that one small miracle because convincing her he’d changed and that she should take a chance on him would be hard enough all on its own, especially considering the last conversation they’d ever had, the one outside the base’s gates.

The memory stabbed into his brain like a hot knife…

It
was
raining. When she jumped from her car, yelling his name, she was instantly soaked. He felt such desire and rage in that instant. Because he still loved her despite the fact that she no longer loved him. And he knew exactly why she’d come…

“Jake, please!” she yelled, running up and grabbing his arm. “Can we talk?”

“I don’t have time,” he growled, shaking off her hand and ignoring her hurt expression. “This weather makes the brass absolutely
giddy, and those sadistic bastards are sending us out on a training exercise in fifteen. You can call me tomorrow.”

“And will you answer?” she asked, her eyes wide and uncertain. “You haven’t the last fifty times I’ve tried.”

Yeah, well… “You know what they say, the fifty-first time’s a charm,” he mocked.

“Jake, please, I—I need to tell you something,” she said, pushing her wet hair back from her face. Her mascara ran down her cheeks in twin rivers, and he assured himself it was due to the rain and not tears even though her eyes were red and swollen.

Because
what
the
hell
did
she
have
to
cry
about? Her life was turning out just
perfect.

“I know what you’re gonna say,” he ground out. A crack of thunder split the already charged atmosphere, fraying his raw nerves.

“You do?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “And I don’t wanna hear it.”

“But I—I thought that—” She shook her head, her wet hair sticking to her cheeks. “Did Steven tell you?”

He
laughed, but it had nothing to do with humor. “Preacher didn’t have to say a damn thing. It’s plain as day.”

“It is?”

“Of course it is.” He scowled as he swiped the rain from his face. “You’re trading up. The enlisted man for the officer. Hey,” he shrugged when she opened her mouth to try to defend herself, “it’s no big deal. You wanted to bag yourself an operator, and Preacher’s a much better bet than me. Not only is he in that advanced pay grade, but he’ll make an honest woman of you. And you know all I ever wanted was a piece of that grade-A ass.”

She
gaped
at
him
in
disbelief.

“Right on!” he told her, not trying to hide his contempt. “You keep that sinfully luscious mouth of yours wide like that, babe, and you’ll have Preacher down on one knee pledging his everlasting love within a week.”

“Y-you don’t mean that!” she cried.

“Don’t I?” He twisted his lips into an ugly sneer, and all the pain and rejection burning inside him came out in a flurry of terrible words. “Don’t you go thinking you’re any different from the scores of other girls I bagged at the Clover. The only thing that sets you apart from them is the fact that you never got me off.”

She
stumbled
back
like
he’d hit her, grabbing her throat. “I was right about you,” she choked, her strangled voice barely discernible above the pounding clatter of the rain. “You are heartless, and I don’t
ever
want
to
see
you
again…!”

Yeah
, he thought, glancing at her now, the guilt over how he treated her that day still as fresh as it’d been four years ago,
convincing
her
I’ve changed and that she should take another chance on me is going to be
far
from
easy.

In fact, considering everything, it was a damned miracle she deigned to speak to him at all.

But that was Shell for you. Sweet, forgiving Shell…

“You’re more beautiful than ever,” he told her.

“You’ve mentioned that already.” She rolled her eyes.

He couldn’t help but smile, because every time she did that, every time she rolled her eyes at him, he had to fight like crazy not to reach over and drag her out of that lawn chair and onto his lap.

Shit.

And there went his mind again. It didn’t help that he’d spent the last four years yearning for her until he actually physically hurt. And now that he was here? Sitting beside her? Dude, he considered it a wonder he wasn’t foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog.

And in the spirit of not foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog, he searched for a way to keep the conversation going, because just sitting here looking at her, he could definitely feel the old salivary glands gearing up to work overtime.

He seized on the one thing he figured she’d be only too happy to discuss. “Your brother seems happy.”

“Mmm,” she agreed, not picking up his tossed conversational ball, the wonderfully obstinate woman.

He tried again. “Never thought there’d be a woman with the intestinal fortitude to handle Boss, but Becky must shit bricks.”

“Crude,” Shell mused, sliding him a disparaging look, “but accurate. You did always have such a way with words, Jake.”

He winked, and she rolled her eyes again.

Rock finished with Kenny and started in on Fleetwood Mac—
at
least
it’s not another country song
—and Jake took the opportunity to rake in a deep breath as he wondered how to broach this next subject.

“Shell,” he finally whispered. She turned to him, her eyes particularly stormy-looking in the firelight. Stormy-looking and sad. He hoped to help with that second part starting right now. “I want you to know how—”

He was interrupted by a series of rings and beeps and tinny-sounding rock music that split the easy air in the courtyard as each of the Knights’ cell phones sprang to life.

Boss dug his phone out of his hip pocket and held it to his ear, barking only one word, “Go.”

The rest of the Black Knights deactivated their devices and waited for instructions. They weren’t long in coming, but Jake was surprised his name was the first one Boss called. “Are you carrying, Snake?”

No sooner had the words left Boss’s lips than the hard punch of adrenaline surged through his system. “No. That big redheaded behemoth at the front gate frisked me before letting me in.”

“Follow me,” Boss said with a jerk of his chin.

“Roger that,” he came just short of snapping a salute.

Yo, old habits die hard.

He pushed up from his chair and trailed Boss to one of the little outbuildings surrounding the courtyard where the big guy pulled out a strange-looking key from the lanyard around his neck. Inserting it in a complicated lock, the door sprang open with a hiss.

Okay, so…it was clearly an air-locked environment, which for a small, private defense firm seemed a bit over the top.

What
the
hell
are
they
hiding
in
there?

Proof of extraterrestrial life? Documents exposing the truth behind President Kennedy’s assassination? A living, breathing, peanut-butter-and-banana-sandwich-eating Elvis Presley?

Boss motioned him forward, and he hesitated a split second—just a split second, mind you, to prepare himself to be greeted by a colony of little green men—before peeking in the door.

Um, okay, so no fat Elvis or bug-eyed aliens, but he totally grasped the need for air-tight security. There were enough munitions stored in the building to give all of Bravo Platoon boners.

“Take your pick,” Boss said casually, as if it were no big deal to be in possession of enough weapons to outfit an entire division.

“Should I be worried?” he asked, easily recognizing the hard look on Boss’s face. He’d seen it often enough during their years together.

“Nah,” Boss shook his head, then seemed to rethink his answer. “Look, man, we just caught an assassin trying to set explosives near the western wall—”

“
Assassin
?” Jake interrupted. “Good God, Boss, who’d you piss off this time?”

His former CO shrugged, shaking his head. “It’s a long story, and I haven’t got time to tell it. All you need to know right now is that there are an unknown number of guys gunning for us and though I’m confident of the security I have in place, I’d still feel better if you kept your eyes and ears open for the next few minutes while you look after Shell and Franklin for me.”

“That’s a given.”

Boss clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Thanks, man. And, believe me when I say it’s not going to be an easy task, especially since I need you to convince Shell to stay out here while the rest of us go inside to try and find out what we can from this sonofabitch.”

Jake glanced around the courtyard. “You sure it’s safe out here?”

Boss nodded. “Right now it’s the safest place on the compound.”

Jake took Boss at his word, trusting him to know his own security.

“So, assassins, huh?” He shook his head and pointed a thumb overhead at the red-and-white-striped awning covering the courtyard. It hadn’t been there last night when he’d arrived from the West Coast. “I guess that’s why you guys unrolled canopy.”

“Yeah. A little insurance against prying eyes. That’s also why I’ve been running around all day like a chicken with my head cut off and didn’t get the chance to welcome you back properly, man. For that, I’m sorry. So, I’ll say it now, I’m glad you’re back.”

“I’m glad to
be
back.” And that was truer than Boss would likely ever know.

Boss nodded and began to turn away. Then he hesitated. “And Snake? Just because I don’t
think
there’s any cause for alarm, that doesn’t mean—”

“Enough said,” Jake raised a hand. “I’ll be totally frosty.”

Boss nodded and took a deep breath. Then his face fell into a series of harsh lines. “You love her, right?”

There was no need to ask who they were talking about.

“I’ve always loved her. I’ll love her until I’m dead and buried.”

“So what happened back in Coronado?”

And though he’d known the question was coming, it still caught him by surprise. Especially given the timing. But
okay
…whatever. It seemed they were going to get into this.
Now.

And
damn
the
assassins
trying
to
blow
a
hole
into
the
compound…