 by Cara Dee.jpg)
Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 45785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 229(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 229(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
“We will find you, darling. Stay strong. We will find you.”
This was exactly what Elliott Jones needed. A nice barbecue with family and friends. The moving trucks were parked outside his new ranch, and he was ready to start fresh. Again. Despite the regrets he lived with, he tried to focus on the good things in life. His niece Blake, for instance. She was his world. But after twenty years of working as a private military contractor in some of the most hostile territories on the planet, Elliott had made more than one enemy.
He heard the unmistakable sound of a rocket launcher, catapulting him and his closest friends into a nightmare of agony, rage, and determination. Lives had been lost, and three people had been kidnapped. Among them, little Blake.
Elliott would stop at nothing to bring her home again, even if he had to team up with his absolute biggest regret, Joel Hayward—Coast Guard sniper, the ex-husband of Elliott’s sister, and Blake’s stepdad.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Chapter One
Elliott Jones
2023
“The ranch is freakin’ beautiful, Elliott. I mean, the ocean is right down there!” Gray gestured out the kitchen window.
I chuckled and dumped a bottle of beer into the bowl with meat and marinade. “You feelin’ cramped up in the woods?”
“Never.” He grinned. “But I do like the ocean.”
Yeah, no, he had it made where he was. But Southern California didn’t offer the same forested mountains that northern Washington guaranteed. He and Darius had built a home and a family up there, with nothing but evergreens, mountains, and springs for neighbors. And Darius’s brother, I reckoned. Ryan had bought land there too. Last time I talked to him, they’d just started building their little farm. Too bad he couldn’t make it down this weekend.
It was good to see Gray and Darius, though. Even more so ’cause they were gonna help me move in my shit. Two rented moving trucks stood in the driveway.
“I’m gonna go see what my hubby’s up to,” Gray said. “He’s probably inspecting your avocado trees.”
“Tell him he can bring home all the avocados he can carry after the weekend.” I wasn’t even kidding. I’d bought my new home because…well, I fucking loved it. It was a two-minute trek down a hillside to get to the ocean, and the back of my house had everything else. Nice patio with a barbecue area, a pool for when my niece visited, and half a dozen avocado trees I had no fucking clue what to do with.
My only plan was to constantly bring avocados to work.
Speaking of, those guys should be here soon. I checked my watch. I had plenty of tasks for everyone today and tomorrow; I’d only brought in mattresses and kitchen items. The rest of the house was empty. Oh, patio furniture too. Gotta have that for the barbecues. Before my weekend guests left on Sunday, I was sure the grill would be properly christened.
All right, foil-wrapped vegetable mixes ready for the grill, meats and sausages ready for the grill, a fuck-ton of potato skins ready for the oven—with leftover mash for tomorrow’s grilled fish. Bunch of sauces and dips in the fridge. Check me out, I could do this.
I grabbed a bag of chips and more beer, then headed for the backyard. Through the empty living room that would soon house my brand-new couch.
A fresh start. Damn, did I need it.
A guy could start over at forty-five, right?
That birthday had snuck up and kicked me in the gut just last week.
I sat down on the patio and twisted the cap off my beer. Gray had joined Darius over by the avocado trees where the mountainside crept upward again. My home sat on a mid-mountain ridge, alongside ten or so other properties, with plenty of space in between each house.
These mountains weren’t granite gray or majestic, but they were home to me. In all their yellowish, shrubby glory.
I took a deep breath.
So I was a little jaded and lost at the moment. I’d get over it. I had my new home. A place to start over. Granted, I’d still be in LA almost every day when I went into the office, but the forty-minute commute had given me the distance I’d craved.
One of the four bedrooms was gonna become a study so I could work from home a bit more. In reality, I didn’t need that many rooms, but after the isolating life I’d led for too many years, I was hoping for a lot of get-togethers.
I was closer to my sister and niece now too. If I had my way, they’d drive their butts up from San Diego every Sunday for dinner.
I wanted traditions.
Maybe a couple dogs and a cat to keep me company. I sure as fuck wasn’t venturing into the dating jungle again. I was done. So goddamn done.
“Gray!” I called. He turned toward me, some eighty feet away. “How about some music?”
He’d brought his Bluetooth speaker. My entertainment center and all that was packed up in one of the trucks.
“Absolutely.” Gray jogged over and ducked into the house.
Darius took his time walking back, eyeing the pool and the lawn, the trees and the hillside. “House looks great, Elliott.”
“Thanks. I think I’ll be happy here.”
He scratched his jaw absently and sat down across from me. “What else are you growin’?”
I grinned. Always the homesteader, that one. He and Gray had it all. Pigs, rabbits, chickens, crops.
“Not much,” I admitted. Yet, anyway. I might pick up where the previous owners had left off—and what they’d left behind. “Couple lemon trees, figs, and a random bed of dill next to the front porch.”
Darius shrugged a little. “It’s a good start. You won’t be getting any of that when you visit us. Except for the dill. I think Gray grows that in the herb garden.”
I shook my head, amused. The Darius Quinn I’d met some fifteen years ago had definitely wanted the secluded mountain farm and the crops—but the family? That was new. He used to shy away from commitment and attachments, claiming that he had enough siblings and nieces and nephews.