Beyond the Veil of Time E-Book

Jerry Ferrera

• Herausgeber: Jerry Ferrera
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

In the midst of the swirling mists of time lies a tale as old as existence itself—a story of love transcending the boundaries of time and space. Welcome to "Beyond the Veil of Time," where destiny weaves its intricate threads across centuries, entwining the lives of two souls bound by an eternal bond.

In the bustling streets of modern-day metropolises and the quiet whispers of ancient ruins, their love story unfolds—a narrative that defies the constraints of mortal understanding. From the grandeur of past epochs to the pulsating rhythm of the present, their journey is a testament to the enduring power of love.

Join us as we embark on an enchanting voyage through history, where the echoes of their passion resonate across the ages. Through trials and tribulations, amidst wars and revolutions, their connection remains unbroken, a beacon of hope and perseverance in a world fraught with uncertainty.

As the veil between past and present shimmers, immerse yourself in a tale of romance that transcends the boundaries of time—a story that reminds us all that love is truly timeless.

Leseprobe

Chapter ONE

Savanna lay flat on the ground, a bed of red and gold leaves cushioning her body, and she stared up at a cloudless blue sky. She folded her arms over her chest and smiled when a crisp fall breeze kicked up, fanning across her face and sending leaves swirling in the air.

“How’d you know I was here?” she asked upon hearing the crunch of dried foliage as someone approached.

“Where else would you be? This is where you and Marcus got married. His casket is empty, so I know you don’t go to the cemetery when you want to be near him.” The husky voice belonged to Ella’s brother, A.J., which was a surprise because last she’d heard, he was in D.C.

Savanna turned her head to the side to find A.J. parking himself on the ground next to her.

“I hate that they never found his body,” she whispered. And that I witnessed my husband being beheaded on national TV by terrorists. She grimaced at the painful memory from November of 2015, a memory she’d never be able to scrub from her mind for as long as she lived. “You know,” she began softly, needing to change the direction of the conversation before her already upset stomach worsened, “Marcus and I were going to travel the world together. He promised he’d find time to take me on adventures, but we just never got a chance.”

A.J. reached for her hand and squeezed it between where they lay. “You’ll get a chance to see the world, though.”

With who? With what money? But she kept those thoughts to herself because she didn’t want to burden A.J. with her problems. Clearly, he’d been apprised of all that went down last night. That being a guy ending up dead on the floor of her townhouse. Whether A.J. was aware of all the details, like Jesse breaking out some serious Equalizer moves, Savanna had no idea.

“You think Marcus had some sense of foreboding, and his spirit guided Jesse to me? I don’t know, can people who’ve passed on have premonitions?” she whispered, knowing A.J. would be the last person to think she was crazy. The man was convinced Marcus’s ghost visited him on occasion. A.J. said he preferred to believe that rather than think he was having hallucinations, so . . .

“I’m just glad Jesse was there with you. I can’t begin to imagine the alternative. Refuse to, in fact,” A.J. drawled. “But yeah, I think Marcus had a hand in that. You know he’s always watching over us. Probably literally.”

“Yeah, and it does make it hard to move on,” she confessed, immediately feeling guilty for complaining.

“He would want you to, Savanna. Marcus would hate for you to remain single forever.” A.J. cleared his throat, and when he spoke again, his voice was somber. “Just not with Shep.”

“Shit. You know?” She yanked her hand free from his grasp and brought it up to cover her face, thoroughly embarrassed he’d found out about her and Shep’s drunken mistake.

“Uh yeah, Shep felt all kinds of guilty and told Beckett, and Beckett told Caleb, and well—”

“Caleb told you,” she interrupted because, of course, Caleb spilled the beans. The Hawkins brothers told each other everything. “I’m surprised your feathers don’t show with how much you boys cluck like hens. So did you punch Shep?” She turned her head back toward him, willing her face not to betray how embarrassed she was. Although if the heat radiating from her cheeks was anything to go by, her skin was probably bright scarlet.

“Haven’t seen him since I’ve been home. But you know, it’s a possibility later.” He lightly laughed as if trying to diffuse any awkward tension.

“So why exactly are you here, A.J.? Did you hear about my ninja-like moves and come to see for yourself? Learn from the master and all that?” It was her turn to lighten the mood, but based on the you’ve got to be kidding me look he was giving her, she might have missed the mark.

A.J. dropped his shades back in place and directed his attention toward the denim-blue sky. “I’m pretty sure I was the second call Jesse made after Beckett, who doesn’t think the home invasion was random, by the way. He believes those men were after you.”

That’s insane. Savanna propped herself up on an elbow and stared at A.J. “Why did Jesse call Beckett anyway? Your brother doesn’t have jurisdiction in the city. And how did that whole mess not make the news? Three thugs broke into my house, and one of them ended up dead. Why didn’t we call the local police department to tell them what happened and provide a statement? Where’s the dead body?” She took a deep breath after rambling off her questions, then squeezed her eyes closed.

Everything that happened last night felt more like a dream, well, a nightmare, than reality. She had no idea when the denial stage would end, but did she even want it to?

“At least I’m free from the candy and cookie contests today,” she joked when A.J. had yet to respond, and after another beat of silence, her mind wandered back to the aftermath of the incident.

Jesse had convinced Beckett, the infamously growly sheriff of a small town outside of Birmingham, as well as Savanna, not to call the local PD. And for some insane reason, they’d both agreed. As for where the dead body was now, she couldn’t even fathom a guess. Savanna had stayed at Jesse’s house last night, choosing not to tell Ella, at least not yet, what had happened so as not to put her in danger. Beckett had suggested she stay with him, but he had a young daughter, so that was also out of the question.

Because what if Jesse was right and someone was after her? She’d never forgive herself if anyone innocent were to get caught in the crossfires of her problem.

But what problem? Yet another question she didn’t have an answer for, and the more she thought on it, the less sense it made.

“The man Jesse killed had no ID, nor did he have a gun or phone on him,” A.J. finally answered. “We have a photo of his face, though, and my team ran it through our facial recognition software program earlier. We got a match on one of the airport security cameras the day before the attack. International terminal. Still working on an ID and his original location.”

“I take it this is why you hopped on a plane from D.C. Because someone from another country was inside my house?” She sat upright and hugged her knees to her chest to try and comfort herself.

“I’m here to check on you, Savanna, of course. But yeah, anyone attacking you makes my blood boil. But someone coming from overseas to go after you, well, that has me more on edge.”

She let go of a deep, sobering breath. “Is that why they didn’t have guns? They’d flown here commercially from wherever?”

“Most likely.” This was probably business-as-usual for A.J., but it wasn’t for her. Not at all. But not a day went by that she didn’t still worry about Marcus’s former teammates. She couldn’t lose any of them. The idea of something happening to me, though, I never considered that.

“What could those men possibly want from me?” she asked, somewhat incredulously, when the news that three men hopped an international flight to come for her had finally sunk in.

“I don’t know, darlin’. At least not yet, and this is outside of Beckett’s wheelhouse.”

“It’s right in line with yours, though.” She collapsed back onto the bed of leaves she’d made and closed her eyes, trying to stave off full-blown panic mode for a bit longer.

“The problem is that POTUS called at zero nine hundred hours and ordered both Bravo and Echo to spin up tomorrow. There’s some dicey shit going down overseas, and we’re needed. I’m so sorry. I hate leaving you after what happened, but it’s wheels up for me tonight.”

“The President needs you. I would never ask you to stay.”

A.J. was sitting upright now, and he reached for her arm, urging her to sit and face him. “You know I’m not about to abandon you.” He pushed his sunglasses into his hair. “But I do have the next best thing to me. Remember Wyatt’s wife’s brother, Gray? He now co-runs a security company with a former Delta guy.”

Wyatt and A.J. were part of Echo Team, whereas Marcus had been on Bravo. It still amazed her that these guys were putting their lives on the line every day to handle operations the world would never know about.

“I’m going to call in a favor. Hopefully, I can get them here by the end of the day.”

No, that wouldn’t work. “Thank you, A.J., but I can’t afford to pay some guys to protect me.”

“First of all, you’re not paying anyone anything. And secondly, if I’m going to be overseas doing shit that technically I can’t talk about, I need to leave you in good hands. Not that I don’t trust Jesse and my brother, but this isn’t—”

“In their wheelhouse.” But based on what she’d seen of Jesse last night, maybe it was?

“And also, I’m not just asking them to protect you. I need them to isolate the threat and handle it.”

“Kill more people, then, huh?” The memory of the dead guy would be haunting her dreams for quite some time. She shivered despite the warmer-than-average day.

“Jesse did what any of us would have done. He had to protect you,” he said in a firm voice, backing his childhood best friend’s decision to end a life.

“Where did Jesse learn to do what he did? I don’t think even Marcus was capable of those moves, and Jesse has been retired from the Army for years now.”

A.J. looked off toward the forest in the distance. What was he hiding? “You sure you have no clue, no matter how small, as to why those men were in your place?”

“No, and you know I’ve never even left the U.S.”

He frowned. “Well, you have my word we’ll figure this all out and keep you safe.”

Her eyelids fell closed, and she hugged her knees again. “Marcus gave me his word too. I made him promise I’d die before him.”

A.J. wrapped his arm around her back and brought her to his side. “And that’s one vow no man in love would ever want to keep.”

Chapter Three

Off-the-grid location in Pennsylvania

Griffin stripped free of his rucksack and gear, and hissed under his breath, frustrated and annoyed with his aching body for having the audacity to be such a whiny baby. He was only thirty-nine, but after the grueling morning, he felt as old as Methuselah. He grabbed two Motrin from one of the desk drawers nearby and dry-swallowed them. Back in the Army, he used to pop them like candy. But today, hell, the last two weeks, he’d been feeling more like a new recruit, and it sucked.

Griffin peered over at his boss, Carter Dominick, curious as to what thoughts were running through his head. He was leaning against the ATV they used to travel through the tunnels when in a hurry to escape what Griffin liked to joke was Batman’s lair.

Their new base of operations was hidden inside the Pocono Mountains near Bushkill Falls. The bunker was constructed during the Cold War as a nuclear fallout site by some tycoon back in the day.

Griffin lifted his gaze, wondering if there had ever been stalactites above him before the bunker had stamped out nature altogether, and there were only clean lines and hard man-made surfaces from wall to wall. Well, until you reached the exit tunnels, and then it felt more like they were inside a network of caves.

He didn’t bother to ask his boss how he could afford this place or who he’d acquired the bunker from, especially at the last minute. Carter kept everything close to the vest and on a need-to-know basis, and he never talked about himself. He also refused to acknowledge the rumors that he had piles of cash tucked away in about every pocket of the earth as if he were saving up for a Noah’s ark-sized rainy day.

Since Carter’s life had been splashed all over the news years ago, he was somewhat of an open book in that regard. That is, if the media stories were to be believed, which Griffin wasn’t so sure. So, he opted not to bring up the man’s painful past. It wasn’t like Griffin wanted to talk about his own life or the ghosts that haunted him.

“Are we done making sure these boys can hang with us?” Griffin asked Carter, hoping for an affirmative.

Carter stroked his dark beard, eyes carefully tracking the other three men inside the bunker. “They weren’t required to undergo and survive the navigation phase of selection like we were. I have to make sure they can hack it.”

The navigation phase, designated the “stress test” of selection into the Army’s most elite unit, meant carrying a too-damn-heavy rucksack through the Appalachian Mountains using an old-school map and compass to complete a forty-mile mission. The test required you to make it to the rendezvous point by a specified time. One minute late and you were out. It was a hell of a lot harder than it sounded, and ninety percent of the guys quit before moving on to the psychological evaluations, where more would drop like flies. Landing a position with the Unit, commonly known to the public as Delta Force, was considered next to impossible.

“And you had to drag me along for the ride, huh? I was twelve years younger than I am now when you and I qualified back then.” Griffin turned his attention to the other three team members Carter had somehow acquired at a Navy SEAL’s wedding of all places.

“Well, I need a massage. Or maybe an ice bath. Or both,” Oliver said around a yawn. Oliver Lucas was basically the reason why Carter began working with the two other men, Gray Chandler and Jack London.

Oliver had had some shit luck this year while working a bodyguard gig in Dubai, and Griffin and Carter had assisted a group of SEALs in what amounted to a rescue mission to ensure Oliver didn’t wind up executed by the Saudis for a crime he didn’t commit. Being a good ol’ Army boy and in need of a job, Carter had offered him one. But Gray Chandler, who ran a security firm out west, also wanted Oliver on his team.

From what Carter told Griffin, they’d argued over Oliver in the midst of the wedding reception, and in a bizarre turn of events, the men had decided, then and there, to join forces.

And although Gray was going to co-run the new team with Carter, Carter liked to be a serious pain in the ass to new recruits.

He’d been one hell of a hard-ass to Griffin last year when he’d recruited him despite the fact they’d gone through selection together twelve years ago. Carter hadn’t had an official company per se when he’d offered Griffin a job, but apparently, during the years since Carter had left the CIA, he’d been handling missions of his own choosing with men from all over the globe.

And now the plan was for his people to work alongside Gray’s, but based on the last two weeks of training, Griffin wasn’t so sure that would pan out.

Gray and Jack were more old-school Army, and Griffin assumed the rest of their men back in California were of the same garden variety. Whereas Carter was the definition of a wild card, which was what had drawn Griffin to working with him. That and the six-figure income.

“Now that we proved we can, uh, hang with you fuckers,” Jack began, winking at Griffin just to be an ass, “when do we spin up on our first job? My trigger finger is itchy.”

For some reason, he and Jack had been butting heads since the moment they began training together two weeks ago. He couldn’t imagine working alongside Jack out in the field, considering he’d wanted to kill him more than a few times while running practice missions and field training with the man.

Gray wasn’t so bad. And damn, for a guy who’d lost part of his leg in a helo crash while serving, he kept up with everyone. Passed a few of them on the trails too.

“We’ll be back at this again tomorrow,” was all Carter said as he pushed away from the vehicle and twirled a finger in the air, signaling for them all to get the hell out.

“So, that’s a no on being done with training, then?” Jack asked with a touch of humor to his tone.

Carter took a knee when Dallas, his Alaskan Malamute, headed toward him after jumping off the leather couch at the center of the place that was loaded with enough artillery to weaponize Philly.

“I don’t think we’re meshing all that well based on what I’ve seen in the field,” Carter explained, which was an understatement. They weren’t jiving together at all. “We can’t operate until we can learn to trust each other.”

Oliver unstrapped his vest full of mags as he said, “Well, I don’t have any trust issues. But I think these two boys do.” He stored the vest in its place and waved a finger between Jack and Griffin.

“We should probably divide into teams. East and West Coast. We’ll head back to Cali and stick with our other team members out there,” Jack suggested, ignoring Oliver’s comment or maybe speaking up because of it. “You guys stay here in your Batman bunker.” Jack shot Griffin a lopsided smile. “How about we divide into the Spartans and Trojans?”

Griffin lifted his palms in the air and stepped closer to the comedian. “I’m not a condom company, and based on that smart mouth of yours, you probably don’t have any use for them. Doubt you’re getting laid.” Even if the ass did look like Ryan Reynolds, the actor everyone seemed to love. Well, not me. Not anymore.

Jack barked out a laugh and locked eyes with Griffin, then said, “Projecting much, Griff?” Yeah, there was something simmering behind his eyes. Griffin had hit a nerve, hadn’t he?

But Carter wanted them to work together, so he’d back off out of respect for his boss.

“Military call signs, then?” Oliver proposed, and now they were all standing around Carter and Dallas.

“Nah, twenty years in the Army, bro, and I’m done with all the acronyms.” Griffin was a bit more polite this time since he was speaking to Oliver, and there was no tension between them. Not that he knew what Jack’s beef with him was, but it was there-there-fucking-there. Maybe I should ask? He thought about it for a hot second. Nah.

Jack snapped his fingers and nodded. “I think Oliver’s right.”

“Okay, how about three teams. And you can be a one-man show.” Griffin returned his attention to Jack. “Let’s go with whiskey, tango, foxtrot. Because what the fuck, man.” Griffin shook his head, remembering how many times he’d repeated those words over comms during his years in service. Back then, there was a constant stream of WTF moments, especially when the brass ordered the Unit to do some dumbass shit they often disagreed with.

“We’re not dividing into teams,” Carter spoke up, taking command of the room while rising to his feet, and Dallas hurried back over to the couch. “Gray and I agreed we’d stick together as one unit. I have plenty of other men positioned around the globe if we need backup, but the five of us should—”

“Get our heads out of our asses and start acting like we’ll take a bullet for each other if need be,” Gray finished for him in a serious tone.

Jack peered at Griffin from where he stood next to Oliver a few feet away, giving him the stink-eye as if he were about to pop off a smartass answer instead of Roger that. “If I survived years of marriage to my ex, I guess I can survive this new, uh, situation.” He turned and went to one of the desks set up in the space, and a second later, music began to play from the computer speaker.

“We still need a company name, too, right?” Oliver asked as he strode over to the couch, sat next to Dallas, and began scratching him on the head. “Not splitting into teams works for me. Call signs are probably going to be needed. But what is the company name? We sticking with Chandler Security?”

This had Carter flashing a smile, which came across as slightly menacing, considering the man rarely smiled. “No. Gray and I are still negotiating the whole fifty-fifty thing, and since I’m funding this team, I’ll be damned if we call our organization Chandler Security.”

Gray’s eyes fell to the ground. He was resisting getting into an argument with Carter, wasn’t he? “We’ll figure it out.” He turned in Oliver’s direction. “What’d you go by when you were in the 82nd?”

Oliver had been Airborne, which meant Griffin and Oliver most likely crossed paths at some point at Ft. Bragg in the past, but it was a big damn base, so he didn’t remember him.

“Kodak.” Oliver held his palms to the sky as if it were self-explanatory how he’d earned the nickname. “I have a photographic memory. Well, as close to one as possible.”

Gray motioned to the comedian. “Jack was Ace.”

“Play poker?” Oliver asked him. “I’m down for a game whenever.”

“Nah, it’s because I always have an ace up my sleeve.” Jack’s eyes remained steady on Griffin, though.

What the hell is that look about? “Midas,” Griffin offered. “Got the golden touch. Always get my guy.” He smiled. “Or woman.” And damn, speaking of women, he needed to get laid. It was only two p.m., so maybe he’d drive into Philly, which was a little over an hour and a half away and hit up the bars. Try and get lucky before his balls turned blue, and he developed a new nickname. “What about you?”

Gray scratched his head as if he didn’t want to share, his eyes flitting around the room before he reluctantly said, “Romeo.”

“Ah, mm-hm. Enough said.” Griffin clapped his hands together, ready to get on the road. Well, maybe a shower first. He’d have a better shot at meeting a woman if he didn’t smell like roadkill.

“What about Carter?” Oliver asked as he stood and went to the desk.

“The Devil,” Griffin answered for Carter, knowing the man had scored that name for becoming a legend in Iraq, a man their enemies feared even before his boots stepped off a bird.

“I’m not using that. I’ll think of something else,” Carter replied in a clipped tone, eyes lifting for a brief moment to the ceiling as if his prior legend status weighed on him instead. “And what the hell are we listening to?”

“Bieber. The TikTok version of the song,” Jack said before Oliver could answer.

“You’ve got Bieber on your playlist?” Griffin lifted his brows in surprise. “Well, you just get better and better by the second.”

“What’s TikTok?” Oliver asked, and had he been living in a cave? Pretty much everyone knew of the app that Griffin abstained from using, worried about the safety of his personal information and privacy.

Jack strode up to Dallas and sat on the other side of him. “It’s an app that offers some decent advice, actually. Lots of people that are divorced and now single use it and—”

“And you want me to take a bullet for this man?” Griffin asked Carter, and Jack flipped him the bird.

The Unit leaders liked to say they didn’t always pick the best guy for the job, but they picked the right one, and Griffin sure as hell hoped Carter was right about Jack.

“You’ll need to delete that app,” was all Carter had to say on that matter just as Gray’s cell phone began ringing.

“It’s A.J.,” Gray announced.

Griffin remembered the SEAL from their op together on the Sudanese and Egyptian border that summer when they took down a terrorist who’d decided he wanted to make the world rain with drugs in order to “infect” Western society. A.J. wasn’t active duty from what Griffin had gathered, but according to Carter, his team ran off-the-books ops for the President. Not so retired, then.

From the sounds of this new team Griffin and the guys were currently forming, would their missions be all that different? They just wouldn’t be taking orders from the Commander in Chief. In actuality, they wouldn’t be answering to anyone and had zero red tape to cut through. And that was the beauty of it, which was how Carter had won Griffin over and convinced him to leave the Army after twenty years serving.

“Wait, what? You’re serious,” Gray said into his phone, and now he had Griffin’s attention. “Yeah, of course. I’ll talk to the guys.” He lifted his wrist and checked his watch.

And shit, I’m not going to get lucky, am I?

“Yeah, I think we can get in tonight. See you soon.” Gray ended the call and looked around the room, setting his attention on Carter last. “A.J. needs us for a job. His team works with my sister, Natasha. I can’t say no.”

Gray’s sister was also CIA, and he hoped they’d be able to rely on her from time to time for intel if needed for a job. His father was an admiral . . . and also the Secretary of Defense. A good man to have in your corner if push came to shove and shit ever hit the fan overseas on an unsanctioned op.

“Where are we going?” Carter asked, no hesitation in his voice.

“Birmingham, Alabama,” Gray said, already on the move.

“Well,” Jack said while smiling, “looks like training is over, boys.”

Chapter Four

Walkins Glen, Alabama

“Five more minutes, right?” Savanna asked from where she stood at the kitchen sink, silently congratulating herself for sounding calm when she felt anything but. She looked over at A.J., who’d stationed himself by the two French doors that led to Jesse’s back patio, thumbs hooked in the front pockets of his jeans and a cowboy hat perched on his head.

Jesse lived in Walkins Glen, a thirty-minute drive from her place in Birmingham. In her mind, Walkins Glen was a storybook town. The kind of place you’d see on the show Hart of Dixie or in a cute Hallmark Christmas movie. Everyone knew each other, and there were only two bars in town, the most popular one being the Drunk Gator.

“Yeah. Five guys on the team will be arriving,” A.J. answered, squaring his shoulders back.

At one time, Savanna had considered relocating to Walkins Glen, but she was concerned the small town wouldn’t be able to support her business. And she didn’t want to compete with Liz’s place, the only bakery and coffee shop already there, so she’d stuck to Birmingham.

“Five is a bit much, don’t you think? We have your three brothers and this wonder boy over here.” The memory of Jesse in action last night flashed to mind, and she swung her gaze to where he sat on a barstool at his kitchen island with his head in his palms. A heavy heart for killing that man? Or was something else bothering him?

“I’m not a wonderful anything,” Jesse commented grumpily without looking up. Savanna was tempted to joke that the “grump” status in this town was already taken by the sheriff, Beckett Hawkins, but decided she’d best not. Jesse had killed a man to save her from, well, she wasn’t exactly sure what, and now wasn’t the time for wisecracking.

Jesse lifted his head and began wordlessly drumming his fingers on the handmade red oak top in an almost soothing rhythm.

Savanna stepped over to the island, opposite Jesse, and returned her focus to the ingredients she had assembled for baking cookies, an activity she always found therapeutic. Jesse didn’t have a stand mixer, but she’d made do with the old-fashioned method for the first couple batches, chocolate chip and then oatmeal. Her arm muscles were definitely feeling the workout, but it was a nice distraction. Now she was ready to make her signature butter cookies. There was no time to let the dough rest overnight in the fridge for a better bake, but oh well. Butter-anything in the South was a sure bet.

“No sifter. No mixer. No rolling pin.”

“I don’t bake,” Jesse cut her off while lifting his head, his light blue eyes fixing on hers. “You seem to be doing just fine without all the equipment.” He winked, and his foul mood was temporarily gone. She’d take that as a win.

If anyone should be in a bad mood, shouldn’t it be her? Last night, there’d been three men waiting inside her home for her. If Jesse hadn’t been there . . .

And now, blood had ruined the floor of the townhouse she was about to get evicted from, and—

“You sure you’re okay?” A.J. sat next to Jesse, and now she was under scrutiny from both of them. She’d rather be back in Hilton Head with her grandmother, learning how to bake cookies for the first time when she was seven, than think about blood and bad guys.

Her grandmother had lost her husband at an early age, and sadly, becoming a widow was something Savanna could relate to.

She closed her eyes for a second, remembering her grandmother’s lessons.

The secret to making delicious cookies is to put a little of your heart into them, she’d instructed earnestly, a hand over her heart. Then she’d smiled and dusted Savanna’s little nose with a flour-covered fingertip. Abuela had a beautiful smile and lovely hazel eyes, and Savanna felt lucky to have inherited both of those features.

“I’m doing much better than the both of you. You’re the ones acting as nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs.” She added sugar to the softened butter in the silver mixing bowl and began the process of creaming them together with a wooden spoon, an arduous task that would have been much easier with a mixer. But again, anything to take her mind off the current mess she seemed to be in.

She needed to act like everything was business as usual, play this whole thing off like last night was some kind of mix-up, that she hadn’t been the target because what was the alternative? Living in fear? Going down a rabbit hole of what-ifs?

She’d fallen down that rabbit hole when Marcus was killed. What if he’d never joined the teams? What if they hadn’t gotten called on that op? What if he’d killed the terrorists first?

But the two what-ifs that plagued her to this day, because his body had never been recovered, were What if that hadn’t been Marcus I saw on TV? What if he isn’t really dead and one day he’ll walk through my door?

A sharp stabbing pain hit her ribs at that last thought, one she couldn’t deny crossed her mind on a regular basis.

When she glanced at A.J., he was adjusting his hat for what seemed like the tenth time in as many minutes, as if his head had somehow grown since she’d started on her butter cookies. It was probably nerves. And a nervous SEAL didn’t sit well with her.

She didn’t need a handbook to understand a Hawkins man. She knew all four of them through and through. And well, hell, she was familiar with Shep a bit better than the others. And that was a mistake.

“Let me guess, you’re disappointed you missed out on the candy-and-cookie-eating competition today.” Deflection attempt number two, but could she even lighten the mood when it felt like a dark cloud was hovering over their heads with no blue skies in sight?

She looked around the quaint kitchen, always impressed by Deb’s handiwork. A.J.’s mom pretty much had a hand in decorating everyone’s place in town, now that Savanna thought about it.

Jesse’s 2,000-square-foot one-story gray brick house would make the perfect place for him and Ella too. Savanna could totally see them having two little girls with blonde pigtails running around in their fenced-in backyard, as well as a son pulling their sisters’ pigtails, because why not? Boys. Enough said.

“I don’t like leaving you,” A.J. admitted. “Even with five capable guys, and my brothers and Jesse here to watch out for you. But moving you to another location worries me as well. Doesn’t usually go as planned whenever we’ve, uh, tried that with people in the past.”

Hm. She honestly had no clue how much Jesse really knew about what A.J. did for a living. But he wasn’t a fool. Surely, he had his suspicions. Savanna had signed an NDA—non-disclosure agreement—a requirement by the President when Marcus joined the clandestine unit in 2013. It was her promise never to reveal the secret, and she was forever tied to that document too.

“I’ll be fine. And don’t you dare lose your focus while overseas and make Ana a . . .” Widow. Her stomach dropped.

A.J. stood abruptly, and Jesse did the same. But they both remained quiet as if unsure what in the hell to do. She didn’t really know what to say, either, so she turned away from the island and set her sights out the window over the sink that looked out at the backyard. The sun would be setting soon, and A.J. needed to get on the road to the airport within thirty minutes.

And of all songs to come on the radio from the other room—damn. If she hadn’t already known Jesse had turned his sound system on in the living room, she’d swear Marcus was there and sending her a message.

Savanna set her palms on the counter and bowed her head as Thomas Rhett’s “Die a Happy Man” played. Had Marcus been happy before he died? She liked to think so.

Tears fell down her cheeks as she listened to the song, and then a pair of large hands braced the sides of her arms from behind.

But she was already lost in her memories.

Page by page.

Starting with the first chapter when she’d met Marcus in Tampa while he’d been attending a meeting with some admirals at SOCOM—the United States Special Operations Command center, headquartered there.

At the time, Savanna had been attending The University of Tampa and waiting tables part-time. One afternoon at the bar, Marcus passed her a note asking her on a date.

He had to leave the next day, so they’d had their first sort-of date over the phone and spoke every day after that through email or by phone until he returned a month later.

She’d fallen in love with him through his words like she was a character in a Nicholas Sparks novel, which her romantic heart had loved. He was sweet and caring. Strong, with the heart of a lion, as well. The most amazing and decent man she’d ever met.

And although they’d only spent maybe five days together in person over the course of their year of courting, such as it was, she accepted his proposal, and a year later, they married in Alabama in 2011. But in 2015, his life was taken, leaving hers ripped apart.

The epilogue of their story really was one for Sparks’s tragic books, wasn’t it? Often, there was no guarantee of a happily-ever-after with that author, and before she’d met Marcus, that hadn’t bothered her. But ever since Marcus was stolen from her, she refused to read any story that didn’t end with a happily-ever-after.

“Savanna?” A.J.’s voice was in her ear. “They’re here.”

Savanna sniffled and swiped the backs of her hands beneath her eyes, wiping away a few tears, then pulled herself together like she’d learned to do over the years and looked up to see five guys heading toward the French doors.

One of them seemed to notice her watching, and he paused for a second, freezing like a buck that realized someone had a scope on him.

Their eyes remained locked for a moment longer, but at the sound of the doors opening, she flinched and turned away from the window to check out her new crew of protectors.

But what exactly are you here to protect me from?

She recognized two of them, but just barely. Grayson Chandler, Wyatt’s brother-in-law, had come in first, followed by Jack London, whom she’d met once or twice at gatherings after Wyatt and Gray’s sister, Natasha, had married.

The other three, especially the guy she’d noticed outside, were question marks.

“Gray. Jack,” A.J. greeted. “You remember Jesse and Savanna.”

“Something burning?” Gray asked as he sniffed the air.

“Oh, shit.” Savanna ran over to the double ovens, and Jesse was on her heels helping to pull out the burning cookies. Thank God, because the last thing she needed today was to have to call A.J.’s firefighter brother, Shep. She’d prefer A.J. leave town before seeing Shep, too, just in case A.J. really did want to punch him for their oops-moment.

After tossing the ruined cookies in the garbage and the baking sheet in the sink, she rested her palms on the edge of the sink and took a deep breath—could she be any more embarrassed right now?—then she slowly turned to face the room, only to come nose to chest with someone. Her hands flew up and went flat against that chest, which was amazingly hard and muscular, and felt really, really good. It was as if her fingers were on autopilot when they slowly climbed up the planes of his chest and to his shoulders, leaving a faint trail of sugary powder in their wake.

She looked up to find a pair of dark brown eyes staring down at her.

“Griffin,” he said, his lips twitching in amusement.

The “buck” had a name. A sexy name. And a deep, sensual voice to go along with that firm, muscular frame and killer eyes she could lose herself in.

His granite jawline (that’s what authors would call it, right?), masculine nose, and great overall bone structure were . . . well, hot damn. No full beard at the moment, but he was rocking a few days’ worth of facial hair.

His dark brown hair was artfully styled at the top and faded a bit at the sides. Savanna figured him to be about an inch or two over six feet tall.

She swallowed, but it was more like a loud gulp. “Hi,” she squeaked. And then, to her horror, she giggled. She didn’t usually act like a tongue-tied teenager, so what the hell was going on?

“You have a little something on your face.” The pad of Griffin’s thumb swiped over her cheek, then he leaned back a little and licked his thumb. “Mm. Sugar.”

Why am I still clinging to this man?

“Ahem. Savanna, want to let go of him?” That was A.J. adding fuel to the fire, blowing this moment up into something even more awkward.

Thanks, sailor. I’ll remember that.

“Take your time, Sugar.” Griffin flashed her a cheeky grin, tipping his head to the side a little.

Cheeky again? Woman, focus.

Savanna lifted her hands and backed up, bumping into the counter behind her, catching Jesse’s eyes in the process as he stared at her with curiosity.

She was a bit curious too. When was the last time a man had stirred such an intense reaction outside the pages of her favorite novels?

Before she had a chance to even try to decipher her feelings, she spotted Shep and Ella heading toward the back doors. Shit, incoming. “Shep and Ella are here.”

“Jesse McAdams,” Ella said the second she burst inside, her hands going to her hips with dramatic emphasis.

“What?” Jesse eyed Griffin on his way to intercept Ella while Shep hung back by the door.

“Why’d you bring Ella here?” A.J. asked. “She doesn’t need to be caught up in this. What if someone were to show up?”

“You try telling our sister not to do something she sets her mind to do,” Shep quickly returned before scanning the five strangers in the kitchen, appearing to quickly size up the other men.

Shep was tall, well-built, and had muscles for days. From the looks of the five guys there to assist Savanna, they did too. And she’d already felt the ridges of muscle beneath Griffin’s shirt to verify that fact in regard to him.

“Why’d you say my name like I did something offensive?” Jesse spun his black ball cap around on his head like he was preparing to go argue with a ref during a football game.

“You killed a man.” Ella unglued her palm from her hip to swish it through the air as if she were going after an irritating fly. In this case, a fly named Jesse.

“So?” he casually remarked. “Not the first time.”

Ella’s lips parted, but she remained quietly staring at him.

“Give us a minute.” He reached for her elbow and guided her outside, shutting the door behind him.

“Girlfriend troubles?” one of the men, whose name she didn’t know, asked.

“Oh, they’re not together,” Shep replied, which drew A.J.’s attention. He made a beeline for his brother, fists locked and loaded at his sides.

Shep tipped his head and caught Savanna’s eyes. “He knows?” he mouthed. She grimaced and nodded, then watched in surprise as Shep stuck out his chin and let A.J. punch him in the jaw.

“This is not how I was expecting y’all to roll out the welcome mat for us,” Griffin said, obviously trying hard to suppress a laugh, which distracted even A.J. to look away from Shep and over to Griffin.

A.J. shook out his hand and winced. “He had it coming. Trust me.”

Somehow, she could have sworn Griffin knew why, too, because those brown eyes ping-ponged back and forth between her and Shep. But then, he was probably an operator, good at reading a room and people.

Savanna went to the freezer and grabbed two bags of frozen peas—these boys worked hard and played harder, so ice packs of some sort were a staple in everyone’s freezer, including Jesse’s—and handed one off to A.J.

When she offered the other to Shep, their hands brushed for a quick moment, and he flinched. “Thanks,” he said softly. “Sorry about that.”

Her gaze journeyed up to his face, finding Shep’s eyes narrowed. Maybe I’m losing my mind?

“I’m Oliver, by the way. Didn’t have a chance to say hello,” one of the strangers piped up, another attempt to reset the tone of the room.

“Carter,” said the guy with hair the color of midnight and eyes like bittersweet chocolate. Everything about him screamed villain rather than hero.

“Nice to see you again, Savanna,” Jack said, and she couldn’t help but return his captivating smile.

And wow, what is wrong with me? These guys were there to help her, and for some insane reason, she was cataloging every detail about them as if she were the Bachelorette with her very own season and suitors. But damn, these men were smoking hot. And if they were all single—

She usually thought it was a load of BS that so many of the men in romance novels just happened to be insanely handsome. And that every hero who was in the military was a hot badass with, at minimum, a six-pack. Looked like she needed to reconsider that opinion because hello to the men in the room. Fiction meets reality?

“Well, thank you all for coming.” She felt the need to kick things off since they were there for her, and she had a few things she needed to get off her chest. “But I have no idea what happened last night. Or why those men were in my place. I also can’t afford to pay you. And I can’t afford to close my café for another day. I don’t have any employees. It’s just me. So, please don’t ask.”

“I told you not to worry about money.” A.J. tossed the bag of peas on the kitchen island, shot his brother an irritated look, then focused back on Savanna. “But you can’t operate the café until we’re certain all threats have been extinguished. Whoever may be after you might target the café next.”

Her shoulders fell at the bad news A.J. laid out for her. If she closed Savanna’s, even for a few days, she might lose her townhouse. On the other hand, she would never put anyone in harm’s way.

I’m not touching that money under my bed, either. No, no, no.

“You don’t need to worry about paying us. I can cover any loss of profits while you’re closed as well,” Carter said.

Savanna shook her head, but it was Griffin her eyes fixed on. And her romance-novel-addicted self promptly jumped headfirst into a fantasy of the many repayment options a heroine in a book might offer the hero. And why did she have the desire to pay this man back in naughty, naughty ways? Oh. My. God. Savanna, stop.

Sex. I need it. It’s been . . . well, since . . . She shot Shep a quick glance and hid her face in her palm for a moment, worried it was beet red and everyone would instantly become aware of her dirty thoughts.

But did it end there? Nope. Her lustful thoughts hijacked her vocal cords, and she blurted, “Well, don’t expect me to trade orgasms for protection.”

She was sure Shep and A.J. were having mild heart attacks right about then.

But it was Griffin she was unable to rip her gaze away from when she looked up. He had his palm flat on the kitchen island off to his side as he observed her with an amused and slightly cocky expression on his face. Like he was picturing just such a repayment plan playing out in his head.

Now her cheeks were really on fire.

“Savanna,” Jesse barked out like a dad chastising his daughter.

“She was kidding,” Ella softly said, prompting Savanna to tear her eyes from Griffin and turn toward the French doors. It seemed her best friend had finished lecturing Jesse outside.

“I don’t like not paying for your time and help,” Savanna explained, hoping her faux pas would quickly be forgotten. “There might be a way I can pay you back.” Although, if she wouldn’t use that money to pay her bills, why would she use it to pay these guys?

“I’ve got you covered, and that’s all you need to know.” Carter’s voice was firm and deep, and she found herself not wanting to argue with the man. There was a slightly dangerous gleam to his eyes.

Well, glad you’re on my side.

“We took my private plane, so I brought everything we might need,” Carter added, diving back into the business of why they were there.

“What types of things might you need?” Savanna asked.

Ella planted herself alongside Savanna and crossed her arms as they stared at the eight men crowding the kitchen.

Jeez. Eight? Four short of a sexy calendar. “What is it that you aren’t telling me?”

“We’re still working on identifying who may have sent those men,” A.J. began, his tone low and deep, and she recognized the look in his eyes. He’d flipped that operator-mode switch in his brain and was “Just the facts, ma’am” like Marcus used to do whenever he engaged in work talk. “These types of guys usually operate under someone else’s orders, which means their boss, whoever he or she may be, wants you. Or something you might have.”

“Might have?” What in the hell would I have? Who would want me? It made no freaking sense.

“My sister sent a secure email transmission on everything she found, but Natasha will be going off-the-grid for a bit, so I hate to say that’s the extent of the help she can offer,” Gray spoke up.

“What’d Natasha find?” Savanna turned her gaze to A.J., wondering why he hadn’t shared Natasha’s info earlier while she was baking up a storm. Surely he knew what Natasha had provided to Gray.

Her attention moved back to Gray as he folded his arms over his black tee and focused on her. “Natasha ran the dead intruder’s photo through the CIA’s facial recognition software,” Gray began, “and she tracked him to the airport in Birmingham. He was using an alias. Fake passport. After a little more digging, she identified the man as Greek. He took a flight from Athens. We’re under the assumption the other two men with him were Greek as well.”

“Natasha was also able to determine the hotel he stayed at using her software, but the men stayed off local CCTV footage in and around the city,” Jack added. “Well-trained to know how to avoid almost all cams.”

“Beckett and I went to that hotel earlier,” A.J. dropped the news on her.

What the hell? She hated being in the dark. But they were only trying to protect her, she supposed.

“From what we can tell, the men didn’t return to the hotel after what went down at your townhouse. They most likely emptied the room before they ever went to your house,” A.J. told her, which set her heart pounding against her rib cage.

“Also, as far as we know, the men were only in Birmingham for one night before they came after you, so they didn’t spend much time stalking you to learn your patterns,” Gray pointed out.

Stalking? This was becoming too much. “They wouldn’t have needed to do any stalking. I work and sleep. Pretty simple to figure out.”

“We’re monitoring all airports, and they’ll get flagged if they try to leave the country,” Jack said. “Our next step is to figure out who the hell they really are, who they work for, and why they might have come after you.”

Yeah, a pretty important next step. “But you don’t think they plan to give up? They still want me.” A million thoughts swirled through her mind as she turned away from the men. She wanted to burst into angry tears, but when Ella set a comforting hand on her shoulder, she calmed down. Thank God for her friends.

Savanna’s eyes focused on the flour-and-sugar-covered island, then to the floor when a pair of black boots appeared in her peripheral vision. She shifted to the side and slowly pulled her gaze up. Dark denim, black button-down shirt open to reveal a black tee and then on up to Griffin’s tan throat before settling on his piercing brown eyes.

“We’re fairly confident they’re going to connect the dots to your friendship with Jesse, and they’ll come here looking for you too. It’s not a matter of if,” Griffin said in a low voice, “it’s a matter of when.”

“You trying to scare her?” Jesse bit out, the brother she never had, but she’d always wanted. Now she had more than she could handle. She’d basically been adopted by A.J.’s teammates as well as the entire Hawkins family.

“Savanna needs to understand the danger she’s in. And that if she stays here much longer, she’s basically offering herself up as bait,” Griffin said, turning his attention away from her and to Jesse on approach.

She faced both of them, and Ella lowered her hand from her shoulder.

“I’ll stay here and wait for them,” Jesse offered. “I’d like a second chance at those bastards.”

“No way.” Ella’s worry for the man she claimed she was done, done, done with surely wasn’t done.

“You know I’d never put Savanna in harm’s way.” A.J. strode closer, and some of the other guys fell back and out of Savanna’s line of sight as if sensing this was a family matter.

And yet, Griffin remained firm. He didn’t appear to be going anywhere.

Why was there a little jump in her pulse when her eyes met his again?

“If the remaining two guys from last night are as good as you say they are, you sure you can protect Savanna?” Ella tossed out, and Griffin’s brows lifted in insult.

“Jesse singlehandedly wiped the floor with them. But I don’t think that was because those men lacked skills. It’s just that Jesse’s are, well, superior,” Griffin responded, his gaze cutting to Jesse for a moment, then back to Savanna’s best friend.

“Would you rather her stay at some hotel an hour away with just one guy? Or here with us?” Carter joined the conversation.

“Savanna’s not going to be bait,” Shep intervened.

Ugh. Too many men in here. Too many guys gearing up to butt heads. It was her life. Shouldn’t she have a say?

“Over my dead body,” Shep added, and ouch, those words hurt. The idea of losing him, or anyone because of her, was too much to handle.

“I’d still like to know why anyone from Greece is after you,” A.J. addressed one of the main issues at hand.

“That makes two of us,” Savanna said softly, and then a lightbulb went off in her head, and she squeezed her eyes shut. There was one possibility. A weird one, but still a possibility.

When she opened her eyes again, she found a room full of onlookers staring at her with curiosity as if they sensed she’d had an ah-ha moment.

“What is it, Savanna?” Griffin spoke first, and for some reason hearing him say her name had goose bumps scattering across her arms.

“We need to go to my place. There’s something I want to show you,” she confessed, hating that she’d kept this secret from everyone, and she was worried how A.J., in particular, would handle the news.

But didn’t he have a flight to catch?

“Fine,” Carter said. “We wait for sunset. Jack and Oliver will clear your house, then keep an eye on the front and back streets to ensure it’s safe to arrive. Griffin and I will escort you.” He pointed to Jesse. “Shep and Jesse, you stay here. Keep an eye out in case we get visitors sooner than we expect.”

“I still have one more question,” Savanna said, her brows tightening. “Whatever happened to the dead body, and are we telling the police?”

Chapter Five

“So, Griffin. Is that with a Y or an I? I’m Savanna without the H, so I was just curious.”

Before answering, Griffin glanced over at Jesse from where he sat shotgun. The man was driving his gray Dodge Ram on I-65 into the city, checking the rearview and side mirrors every few seconds. With A.J. leaving, Jesse had demanded to stay by Savanna’s side, even for a short trip to her townhouse. Considering how he’d handled the three intruders last night, Carter and Gray had given in to his demand.

Griffin turned to address Savanna in the back seat. “I didn’t know there were any Griffins with a Y.” He gave her a slow smile. “But my first name is actually James. Not that I want you calling me that.”

“James?” she repeated as if the word were foreign to her, and she needed to roll his name around in her mouth a little.

“Yup, James Griffin Andrews.”

Her tongue peeked out between her lips, and heaven help him, why’d that have his dick waking up?

Was she gorgeous? Absolutely. He’d studied her dossier during the flight to Alabama, so he was already aware that she was a beautiful woman even before meeting her. He just hadn’t been prepared for the up close and personal version.

But she was their team’s new client. And then there was the fact that her husband, a Teamguy buddy of A.J.’s, had been brutally murdered by terrorist bastards who’d broadcast it on live television for the world to see. So yeah, there was that. A big, huge THAT.

He sure as hell didn’t need any below-the-belt reaction to her. But he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t gotten a semi when she’d had her hands on his chest in Jesse’s kitchen. Or when he’d swiped the pad of his thumb across her smooth cheek and imagined running his tongue along the same path.

She looked casually sexy in her dark skinny jeans and short brown ankle boots, with a loose-fitting white tee tucked in just at the front. When she’d removed her Roll Tide apron, he’d spied a few thin gold necklaces dangling around her neck instead of her late husband’s dog tags, which he half expected.

“So, Griffin with an I, why do you go by that instead of James?” Was she nervous and trying to make small talk?

“Well, Savanna without an H, my mom always preferred my middle name to my father’s, which is James. So, she called me Griffin.” He caught Jesse side-eyeing him with a disapproving scowl on his face. Shit, he was acting borderline flirtatious, wasn’t he?

“Oh, I see.” Savanna scooched back a little as if feeling the need to add distance between them.

Even though the sun had set, there was still enough ambient light from outside to see that she was assessing him like a sudoku puzzle she couldn’t quite figure out. Good luck with that.

He honestly had no clue why he’d divulged that bit of personal information. He never told anyone his first name was James, especially not a gorgeous woman.

She tucked her wavy, shoulder-length hair behind her ears, revealing two small gold studs he hadn’t noticed earlier. Probably because he was distracted by the glimpse of cleavage he’d gotten when he’d dipped his chin to look down at her while she’d walked her fingers up his chest.

Being a sniper, as well as a red-blooded man, he was always grateful for a clear view and a perfect angle. And her scooped-neck top had provided just that. Was he an ass? Affirmative. So, that was another reason he ought to behave himself. He had a feeling A.J. wouldn’t hesitate to punch him in the jaw if he found out Griffin had so much as looked at Savanna sideways. He hadn’t held back on socking his own brother, so Griffin wasn’t eager to find out what A.J. would do to him.

And what was the story with her and Shep? There was a story, right?

Am I on one of Mom’s soap operas? Shiiiit.

“I heard you were in the Army.” Griffin faced forward while redirecting the conversation to Jesse. He wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to tolerate Savanna staring at him with those gorgeous hazel eyes, and if she licked that pouty bottom lip again, he might launch himself into the back seat.

“Ranger.” Jesse’s answer still didn’t quite square up with what Griffin had heard happened last night and how he’d handled three trained men. Most likely, hitmen or mercenaries. Sure, they may not have had guns, but three to one while Jesse also had to keep Savanna safe wasn’t an easy task.