Falcon Falls Security Boxed Set: Books 1-3, page 75
Sydney didn’t bother to budge from her fixed position since she decided she really did feel lazy. Crazier things had happened. Like starting that book last night, which had sent her libido into overdrive. She hadn’t needed much of a push since it’d been so long since she’d been touched. Not even by her own hand.
“Okay, for as long as I’ve known you, the only things you’ve read are biographies and Sun Tzu’s The Art of War–type stuff. Not something with a badge-wearing cowboy on the cover.” Mya pushed her shades into her hair and brought the book closer as if needing a better look.
“The book wasn’t my idea.” It was the truth, but now Sydney was kicking herself for not reading a book like that sooner. Damn, that author could write a sex scene. Maybe it’d turn her “not good enough in the bedroom” situation into “more than enough.”
Why am I thinking about Seth? He sure as hell wasn’t who I was thinking about last night. Screw that man.
“So, it fell into your bag, huh? You brought it to the beach, so you’re not trying to hide it from me if you were planning to read it here.” Mya casually flipped through a few pages.
“I don’t get embarrassed. I couldn’t care less about who sees me reading a romance novel. The guy on the cover could be naked for all I care.” She paused, knowing that wasn’t the answer Mya wanted, then changed the subject. “You know Griffin Andrews from Falcon?”
“The hot one?” Mya smiled. “Wait, they’re all hot. The one with the Southern accent?”
“I think they’re all Southern. Well, originally, at least. The one who married Savanna.”
“Oh. Savanna’s the one who, um, lost her Navy SEAL husband years ago? Yeah, I remember him now.” Mya’s tone was soft, a gesture of respect for Savanna’s loss.
“Well, back in January, my team was working an op in France, and Savanna came along.” Sydney shook her head when Mya opened her mouth to no doubt ask why. “It’s too complicated, so don’t ask. The point is during that trip, I learned that Savanna loves to read romance novels. So, the last time Griffin and I worked an op, he gave me a stack of books. Said his wife wanted me to have them. I think she got the idea that I’m lonely and sad. Maybe she thought I needed some fictional heroes to keep me company. I don’t know.”
“Huh.” Mya continued to thumb the pages of the novel. “Wherever would she get that idea? I mean, surely, she also witnessed your badassery?”
As a matter of fact, yes. Both Savanna and Jesse’s wife, Ella, had witnessed Sydney kill a few bad guys in France. Not that Sydney was happy about it, and she wasn’t sure if she’d define her actions that night as anything other than just doing her job and protecting Savanna and Ella. Badass? Hardly.
Anyways. She didn’t want to think about that operation. It’d been a tough one, but with a happy ending since it had brought Ella and Jesse together finally. And now they were going to have a child.
“Griffin must have blushed when he gave you the books.” Mya chuckled. “And did your former college beau have anything to say about it?” She lifted the book as a reminder of what she was talking about.
“Gray knows better than to comment.” Sydney had dated Gray Chandler, who co-ran Falcon Falls, when they were both at West Point. But that was a long time ago. She was thirty-seven now, and she hadn’t even been legally allowed to drink when they’d been together.
“Do you think Gray hopes there’s still a spark there? You two were quite the scandal back at West Point from what I remember,” she teased.
“The only scandalous thing about our relationship was that he was a Firstie, and I was a Plebe. Against the rules.” Seniors, known as Firsties at West Point, weren’t allowed to date Plebes, aka freshmen. Not that I was great at following rules back then. “He thought I was Sydney Bowman. He didn’t even know that I’m an Archer until our paths crossed again last year. Not the best way to start a relationship, right? You know, with a lie. So no, there’s no spark between us anymore.” Gray had been a great guy in college, and he still was, which was why she wanted to work with him at Falcon. But he hadn’t been the one. There is no “the one” for me though. Screw it. “I’d rather talk about fictional men. Or work. Not my love life.”
“Fictional men it is,” Mya responded. “I spend most of my time reading reports on human trafficking, so I think I should switch things up. You bring any other books with you? I don’t want to take the cowboy sheriff away from you.”
“I have another,” Sydney confessed with a sly smile. And maybe she didn’t want Mya taking away the cowboy now that she had a soft spot for that fictional man.
“I happened to watch two seasons of Bridgerton last week. I think the show is based on a book series, and let me tell you, those men make me want to go back in time and be properly courted.” Mya winced a beat later. “Well, aside from losing women’s rights and all. And having my father offer a dowry to a dude to take me off his hands is grotesque and something he’d probably support even now.”
“Your dad worries about you, but he loves you.”
“My dad is a lying, cheating ass.”
“Wait, what?” Sydney blinked in surprise. This was news to her. How long had Mya been keeping that bit of information to herself? But why’d she get the feeling that wasn’t the reason Mya had been on guard for the last twenty-four hours when they were there to relax? Unless the idea of working with me makes her nervous?
“I don’t want to talk about it, but my parents are separated. It seems my dad has been sleeping his way through New York.” Mya lightly patted the top of the book. “I’m going to need another mimosa.” She frowned. “How about you tell me about the hot cowboy in this book.” She lifted one hand like a request to let go of the topic of her dad. Discussing cheating wasn’t exactly Sydney’s favorite thing anyway, and Mya knew that.
“Well, okay. Yeah, I’d say the cowboy delivered.”
“Who’d you picture for your man candy while reading since his face is hidden on the cover?” Mya grinned, her mood lightening up again. “And damn, woman, I really do need to take up reading if it’s got you blushing right now. A rare sight to see.”
“It’s the sun,” she lied. “But if I were to blush, you’d probably be the only one to ever witness it happen.”
“Okay, so spill. Who’d you fantasize about when reading about the good sheriff?” She shifted her sunglasses back in place. “Or was he bad? Wink wink.”
“I think you’re actually supposed to wink, not say that.” At least they were both smiling again.
“Right, right. So . . .? I need answers because based on your absence of speech, the guy you have in mind is someone you know.” Mya sat taller with excitement.
“The only men who hit on me lately want something called a situationship. Hell if I know what that means. Not together but together?” She shrugged. “Or they call me a MILF. Right to my damn face.” What happened to a real man? A gentleman? Someone who treated a woman right. Took her out on dates and asked her questions with the purpose of getting to know her, not just getting her in the bedroom. “And these guys are babies. Barely thirty. I swear I don’t understand the new trend of these young guys wanting an older woman. While men my age want younger women.” Alice is my age. She’s thirty-seven. Seth chose her. Damnit, don’t think about them right now.
“You’re stalling. Borderline blabbering, which is so not your norm. Which means you don’t want to fess up about the real man who played the cowboy sheriff in your head last night.” Mya opened the book and began skimming pages again. “I’ll find a hot scene and read it aloud until you tell me his name. You know I’ll do it.”
“Is that supposed to scare me?” Sydney laughed, reaching for her glass, having forgotten it was empty.
“Oh, this part is spicy.” Mya traced one of the lines with her finger, her lips tipping up into a smirk. “‘That’s quite the penal code you have there, Sheriff,’ she said as he unsheathed his weapon.”
Sydney held her stomach while laughing, her ab muscles a little sore from the intense core-dominant yoga session that morning. “It does not say that,” she finally managed. “And you didn’t even use ‘penal code’ correctly.”
“I made you laugh, though, so let’s call it a wash. But this part here about the handcuffs is more than intriguing. Maybe I do need this book when you’re done.”
“No, the sheriff’s mine.” She hadn’t meant to react so quickly, but well, the words had come out. Sun and mimosas to blame. For sure.
Sydney squeezed her thighs together at the memory of the scene from the book she’d mentally role-played after reading last night. And the leading man had been someone she knew. A Southern, cowboy-hat-wearing sheriff with espresso-brown hair and the most incredible brown eyes she’d ever seen. They were a near match to how the author had described the sheriff’s eyes in the book. What had she called them? An antique cherry brown? Or maybe it was mahogany. Hell, some type of light wood.
But . . . damn. Beckett Hawkins, and the hands on that man too.
She’d done her best not to stare at him when he’d reached for an appetizer from a serving tray by her at Savanna and Griffin’s wedding last month, but the immediate image of his hand wandering over the slope of her ass cheek popped into her mind anyway.
And so last night, it only made sense for it to be Beckett she thought about. Wishing it was his fingers, not hers, coaxing her into orgasm.
“He’s a sheriff in real life, which is probably why I thought of him,” Sydney confessed when she’d only meant to think that thought.
“Oh?” Mya lowered the book to her lap and pivoted her way. “The sheriff with a daughter you mentioned meeting back in Alabama? That hot hunk of a man?”
“How do you know he’s hot?” Sydney challenged, knowing she’d never describe a guy that way.
“You blushed when mentioning him. Remember, you don’t do that often and only around me, so . . .”
Ah, damn Mya for that. But she was probably right.
Beckett had made an impression on her. He was a single parent like her. And maybe everyone called him grumpy or moody or whatnot, but she understood his protectiveness. They were alike in that regard as well.
“So, you pictured him while you got yourself off, huh?” Mya was loving every minute of this.
“I know what you’re thinking, and nothing will ever happen between us. I only thought of him because he’s the only small-town sheriff I know who also wears a cowboy hat. It made sense.”
Sydney sat up, an idea coming to mind. One that Seth had teased her about over the years, insisting she’d never do something as thrilling and shameless as tossing her top on a beach that wasn’t a nude one.
She was a totally different woman now than when she was married to him though. A “warrior,” right? Bold. Fierce. Enough.
So, Sydney went for the knot of her bikini top at her back and untied the strings.
“Topless, huh? Might draw attention to us.” Mya stowed the book back in Sydney’s bag as Sydney allowed the little black triangles to fall to her lap.
“Eh, let them look. Who cares, right?”
Mya pursed her lips for a moment as if she was on the verge of sharing whatever she was keeping from Sydney. “Sure. I mean, if we’re going to truly relax, I guess we go big or go home?”
CHAPTER FIVE
“Dad, can I ask you something?”
Beckett held the phone to his ear as he opened the terrace door of his hotel suite and was greeted by harsh heat, a shocking contrast to the air-conditioned room. “Yeah, baby girl?”
“Daaaad, I’m not a baby anymore. Officially a teenager.” Like he needed the reminder.
“You’ll always be my little girl. The apple of my eye.” He let go of a somber breath, his thoughts gliding back to the past as he moved out farther on the terrace.
“I’m going to be a father,” he remembered announcing to his dad over the phone almost fourteen years ago. “I’m dealing with gangs and the cartel. Lowlife assholes.” His voice had been shaky. And not from the bourbons he’d tossed back. He’d been truly terrified about bringing a kid into the world, especially given his job and the shit he’d witnessed. “I—I don’t know how to raise a child.”
“You’re not alone. You two will figure it out. I mean, you could always come back home. The sheriff is looking to retire, but he won’t do it without someone worthy to replace him.” His father had been mentioning that fact for years, and never in his wildest dreams had Beckett believed he’d accept the position and move back home.
But he never believed he’d be raising his daughter alone either.
Beckett blinked, pulling himself from that small nine-hundred-square-foot apartment in LA and back to his current reality. A sunny but shitty one at that.
And it really was sunny. Obnoxiously so, given the reason he was there.
“Sorry, sweetie, you wanted to ask me something? What is it?” Beckett made his way to the railing, gripping the too-hot metal and squinting from the sunlight as he waited for his daughter’s reply. Too bad he hadn’t brought sunglasses on his trip.
But one thing he did have now was a Glock 22 tucked into the waistband of his pants, hidden beneath his shirt. Carter’s pilot friend had arranged for a buddy of his to meet up with Beckett when he’d arrived in Tulum an hour ago to supply him with weapons. He sure as hell hoped he wouldn’t find himself in any trigger-pulling situations.
Shortly before Beckett worked up the courage to call home and face the music for the bad news he needed to deliver, Oliver had texted that he was almost to the hotel.
“McKenna?” Beckett prompted, wondering why she was still quiet. As far as she knew, he was in Texas with her uncle, and she shouldn’t have a worry in the world. No way could he tell her the truth, despite the fact the questions about her mother had been more frequent in the last few years. The truth was complicated. “Is there something bothering you?”
“Maybe,” she finally answered, and that maybe just about broke his heart. Not a good sign from his straight-shooting daughter who never beat around the bush. Probably learned that from him.
“When you took me to visit Elaina in D.C. last week, she said something, and well, I tried to let it go like she asked me to, but I have a bad feeling in my stomach now.”
“What’d she say? Why didn’t you say something sooner?”
“Elaina begged me not to say anything. She hadn’t even meant to tell me, but her words just tumbled free and then she slapped a hand over her mouth. She told me not to worry about it, but I know about her abilities. You know she’s basically prophetic, right?” A shaky breath cut through the line. “You took me to D.C. because you wanted to talk to her dad, right? It wasn’t so I could visit with one of my best friends. It was a work thing, huh?”
Fuck. This was not how he wanted to tell McKenna about what was going on with her mom. But maybe he should have known this day would come after his unusual encounter with Elaina last week.
Beckett’s brother, A.J., worked with nine other former Navy SEALs, doing some type of clandestine work he wasn’t privy to, and one of them had a daughter close to McKenna’s age. The girls had grown close, so Beckett took McKenna to visit Elaina whenever possible. She was right though. Their last trip was more for his benefit than his daughter’s because he’d needed a favor from Elaina’s parents, Liam and Emily.
The day he and McKenna planned to fly home after staying at Liam and Emily’s house for the weekend, Elaina bumped into Beckett in the narrow hallway and lifted her hands as if in surrender, staring at him with big, confused brown eyes. Then she groaned as if in pain and abruptly took off for her bedroom.
“She had a vision?” Beckett asked for clarification. “And it had to do with me?”
Elaina’s “visions” were still a question mark for Beckett. He wasn’t sure if he believed in that kind of supernatural stuff. But from what he’d learned, Elaina’s biological parents were super-geniuses. Her birth mother had a hunch about Elaina’s unusual gifts and conducted experiments on her as a child to confirm her theory.
Liam and Emily had adopted Elaina a few years ago, and they were trying to give her a healthy and stable life, but from time to time, Elaina seemed to just “know things.”
“I think she had a vision about you. And maybe, um . . . about my mom.”
A string of profanities cut through his thoughts at that last part. How could Elaina know that?
“She wasn’t specific. She mumbled something, and that’s when she cupped her mouth,” she quickly explained. “But you don’t believe in her abilities, do you?” McKenna let go of a heavy, frustrated breath.
Beckett released the railing and turned toward his hotel suite, trying to wrap his head around the fact a twelve-year-old had experienced a vision about him.
“Sweetie.” He lifted his ball cap and readjusted it on his head, trying to figure out what to say to keep McKenna level-headed and panic-free. “If I were in danger, Elaina would’ve told me. She would have said something to me or her dad, right?” The best he could do right now was calm his daughter’s fears. It certainly wasn’t the time to tell her that her mother had left him a voicemail asking for help, that he was in Mexico, and her uncle was currently at a cartel compound. “And she asked you not to say anything.”
McKenna remained quiet for a moment before whispering, “I guess. But you’d tell me if something was going on, right?”
His heart couldn’t take this. The lies. This wasn’t just an “of course, Santa is real” white lie he’d told her as a kid—this was so much more than that. He hadn’t divulged the full story about why her mom wasn’t in the picture because he didn’t need to destroy the image of the woman who gave birth to her.
“Hey, is that your dad?” he overheard Ella ask. She was babysitting McKenna at their family’s ranch that weekend, and now, it’d be for longer. His daughter was smart enough to realize when he told her he wasn’t coming back from his hunting trip on time that he was full of shit. And that Elaina and her eerie visions were possibly right.
