Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 105825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Ten years ago, there was a mortar attack on a base I was stationed at Helmand in Afghanistan. I woke in the middle of the night to hear sirens blaring, people screaming and a fire raging. I ran to where a building had collapsed, grabbed hold of a metal beam that was pinning a young soldier to the ground, lifted—
And that was it. After years of dodging bullets and explosions and getting in more fights than I can count, the thing that finally injured me was lifting in the wrong way. I wrenched something in my back and now, every morning, it spasms. Sometimes a little, sometimes a lot. I never sought help for it, afraid they’d move me to a desk job.
When I could finally move again, I got into the shower and turned it on cold. As the freezing water pounded my shoulders, I finally managed to drive thoughts of those soft, pale breasts and luscious thighs from my mind. But something way more dangerous took their place. I started thinking about those big gray eyes, soft and vulnerable but turning harder than diamonds when someone threatened her kid. Something in my chest lifted.
Then a wave of guilt crushed it back down. I scowled, furious with myself. It had been a week. I should have forgotten her by now.
I made the bed, tucking the sheets army style until you could have bounced a quarter off them. Then I threw a denim jacket over my plaid shirt because it was cold on a morning, up here in the mountains, and headed out.
Outside, it was weirdly quiet. When the team had first arrived in the little Colorado town of Mount Mercy, some eight months ago, Kian, our boss, had rented us all apartments in this building until we found places of our own. We used to all meet outside each morning and walk to our base—The Factory—together. But one by one, all the other guys had moved into places of their own, with their girlfriends. Even Colton, the only other one of the guys who was still single, had moved into a trailer in the woods along with his bear cub. I was the only one still left in the apartment block: I’d started paying rent to Kian because I didn’t want to freeload. I knew I should just find a place of my own, but…
That would be making a fresh start. Abandoning them forever.
I grabbed a large coffee and a breakfast sandwich from the cafe on Main Street, together with a box of pastries for the team. By the time I’d walked up into the hills to The Factory, I’d finished the sandwich, the coffee had woken me up and I felt more like myself.
When we found it, The Factory was derelict, with missing windows and pigeons roosting on the rafters. But after months of work, we’d just about gotten it into shape. As I walked in, my sister Erin was hanging from a pipe overhead, her legs wrapped around it as she secured a bundle of wires with a cable tie. She was an electronics expert and was gradually rewiring the whole place. “Okay, done!” she announced, and let go with her legs so that she dangled by her arms.
Danny, my best buddy, reached up and grabbed her waist. “Got ya,” he told her in that rough, London accent. And Erin let go and dropped into his arms. I watched as they kissed slow and deep, eyes closed and big, dumb smiles on both their faces and I felt my mood lift. It was difficult to be down, around these two.
I hadn’t been too sure about the relationship at first. Erin’s a lot younger than me and I helped to raise her. Danny’s always been the cocky charmer, with a different woman in his bed every night. I was sure he’d break Erin’s heart. But I hadn’t figured on him falling in love with her, maybe the first time he’d ever really been in love.
As I watched, Danny carried Erin over to the next section of pipe and lifted her so she could grab it. When I saw the way he looked up at her, watchful and protective and utterly adoring…I knew I didn’t need to worry.
At the back of the room, Colton, our hand-to-hand combat specialist, was bouncing around in our new boxing ring, beaming like a kid on an inflatable castle. He’d been wanting a ring ever since we moved in and it had finally arrived late last night. Now, we weren’t going to be able to get him out of it.
Cal, our sniper, was climbing wearily from the ring, panting and sweating. Cal’s a hell of a big guy, close to seven feet tall, but he had the look of a man who’d just had his ass handed to him.