Nobody's Hero (53 page)

Glancing across the room, he caught sight of
Staff Sergeant Anderson. Adam scanned the room looking for Marc.
Luke and Grant were tending bar, and Angie and Cassie were serving
cake. Finally, he found Marc pouring champagne at a table in the
corner of the dining room. Damned if he wasn’t serving bubbly to
Marc’s Gramps and Karla’s grandma, the two of them with their heads
bent toward each other as they shared a toast and a laugh. Love was
in the air for more than the bride and groom today. Age didn’t
matter. It was never too late to love. He squeezed Karla’s hands,
so blessed that he had her.

But he needed to do something right now
without her. “Excuse me for a minute, kitten, but I need to make
some long overdue introductions.” He bent down to kiss her lips—big
mistake. After a few moments, he broke it off while he still could
and sent Karla off to talk with her parents. When Marc looked in
his direction, Adam motioned for him to come over.

Marc grabbed a couple champagne classes and
came over to them. “Yes, sir.”

“Cut the sir crap.”

“Sorry, sir. It's the uniform. Old habits and
all.” Marc grinned. “Where’s your wife? Surely you haven’t ticked
her off already.”

“No, she’s not tired of me yet.” He glanced
over at her and saw she was looking at him. Her smile just about
did him in, but he forced himself to turn back to Marc. “There’s
someone I want you to meet. From Kandahar.” He could tell from
Marc’s sobering expression he knew who it was.

“I’d like that very much.”

They walked over to Anderson who stood with
his petite Filipino wife and a little girl who must be almost ten
now. After a few social pleasantries, he indicated Marc.

“Anderson, there’s someone who’s been wanting
to meet you for a long time, but the opportunity just never arose.
This is a Navy Corpsman who served in one of my units in
Fallujah."

Marc extended his hand. “Marc D’Alessio. Adam
tells me you were with my brother, Gino, when he was killed.”

Mrs. Anderson gasped and tears came to her
eyes. She placed a protective arm around her daughter. Anderson
shook Marc’s hand. “Your brother saved my life. I can’t tell you
how sorry I am that he was killed. I think of him every day and the
sacrifice he made.”

“When Adam told me what happened and about
you having a wife and baby back home,” Marc smiled at the little
girl and her mom, “I know my brother would have made the same
decision ten times over.”

Adam felt Karla slip up beside him. He didn’t
really want her to have to hear this conversation, but couldn’t
very well tell her to shove off. He introduced her to the
Andersons.

“Mrs. Montague, your husband was a hero to
the men caught in that ambush in Kandahar. Knowing him, he probably
never told you anything about that.”

Fuck
. He really didn’t need her to
hear this. “Anderson, it was good to see you and your family and
thanks for coming, but I think Karla and I need to…”

“Tell me more, Staff Sergeant Anderson. I
always want to know more about my husband’s military service.”

Adam drew more and more uncomfortable as
Anderson recounted his actions that day, saving all but two of the
men in the unit who had been ambushed and that he’d taken shrapnel
to the back.

“So, you’re confirming what I’ve known all
along.” Karla turned to him and smiled, pride shining in her eyes.
“My husband is truly a hero—and I’m not the only one who thinks
so.”

Adam shook his head. There’d be no convincing
her otherwise, but he could at least distract her. He took her by
the arm, “If you’ll excuse us, I think my wife and I need to be
thinking about shoving off soon.” Marc quickly excused himself, as
well, and hurried off in the direction of the foyer.

“Kitten, if I hear one more thing about
heroes, I’ll take my belt—buckle and all—to your soft ass.” She
giggled.
Damn her.
He felt his balls tighten. “Run upstairs
and change. But bring the harem costume with you. You’ll need it
tonight.”

Fifteen minutes later, after Adam had quickly
made the rounds, thanking everyone he knew had played some part in
making this wedding day special for Karla, he realized a number of
his buddies had disappeared. He grinned. Of course. He went to say
goodbye to his mother and to make sure she didn’t go out in the
cold for the final ceremony.

Minutes later, in the foyer, he looked up and
saw Karla coming down the stairs, wearing a black cocktail dress
and carrying a small suitcase. He ran up the stairs to take it from
her. “You shouldn’t be lifting that.”

She rolled her eyes. “Adam, there’s hardly
anything in it. I’m not an invalid, you know.”

“You just promised to obey me, so you’d
better start now. New rule: No heavy lifting.”

She sighed. “Yes, Sir.”

“Let’s go.”

“But I haven’t had a chance to say goodbye to
my parents or your mother or…”

“You’ll see them soon.”

She quirked an eyebrow, but turned for him to
wrap a cape around her, pulling her hair corset out and letting it
lay against her back. He wrapped his arm around her, picked up her
suitcase, and they headed toward the front door. Adam put his cover
on his head and managed to get his gloves on his hands before the
command was given.

“Center face!” The officers and NCOs who had
been gathering at the front of the house formed to facing lines.
“Draw swords!”

“Oh, my!” He looked down at his bride, whose
eyes were open wide. She looked up at him. “Did you know about
this?”

“I had my suspicions.”

Their friends and family were sprawled on the
lawn, with snow flurries flying around them.

Chaplain Brown, who had been giving the
commands, then announced, “Ladies and gentlemen, may I present
Master Sergeant and Mrs. Montague.”

“Ready, tiger?”

“Ready and willing, Sir.”

The two of them walked side-by-side,
arm-in-arm under the saber arch. As the approached the fourth and
final pair, the swords were lowered, blocking their path.

“Price to pass—a kiss!”

Adam stopped and turned Karla toward him. She
giggled until he lowered his face to hers. As his lips pressed
against hers, she locked her arms around his neck, her mouth
opening beneath his as he assaulted her senses. He knew he should
cut this short. Hell, they had the rest of their lives together and
people were freezing out here. But he enjoyed kissing his wife too
much.

His wife. Damn, he liked the sound of
that.

When he pulled away, he heard her moan in
frustration and she gave him a smoldering look. As the swords were
lifted, they walked under the final pair and Richardson tapped
Karla on the ass with his sword. She squealed in surprise.

“On behalf of the United States Marine Corps,
welcome to the family, ma’am.”

Everyone laughed and he proceeded to guide
her toward the driveway.

Karla stopped short again. “What the f…heck
is that?”

Adam looked down at her and smiled. “My
wedding present to you.”

The new white vehicle in the driveway,
decorated with red balloons and streamers, sported what he hoped
was washable paint proclaiming the couple inside was “Just
Hitched.” He turned to Marc and Damián and glared. They just smiled
back, proudly.

“Adam Montague, if you think I’m going to
drive around in that…that…tank, you need to have your head
examined.”

He turned his attention to his bride again.
His very ungrateful bride. What was the problem? He’d thought she’d
be pleased to see how far he’d go to protect her and the baby.
Besides, didn’t she know how hard it was to get one delivered on
such short notice? He’d had is shipped from New York. What was
wrong with the woman?

“There’s no safer vehicle I can buy you as a
civilian. You’re not going to be driving anything that’s not safe.
I’m thinking of the kids, too.”

“Kids?”

“Well, one at a time, of course, but I
thought we’d have maybe half a dozen or so.”

Karla’s draw dropped and he fought the urge
to take her mouth with his. The moment ended when her gaze returned
to the Hummer, then back at him. She smiled sweetly, but the smile
didn’t reach her eyes.

“Adam, dear, it was very nice of you to get
me my own vehicle.” Her gaze grew steely. “But there’s no
fu…freaking way I’m driving around in a Hummer.”

“You’ll drive whatever I tell you to
drive.”

“I’m not your slave. We’re not TPE. And I am
not driving that…that thing.”

Adam was speechless. They’d been married a
couple of hours and already she was defying him. “What happened to
the part about you obeying your husband?”

“Well, if my husband makes unreasonable
demands, I reserve the right to disobey—respectfully, of course.”
Again, the saccharine smile.

Holding her hand tightly in the crook of his
elbow before he gave her a wedding day spanking in front of her
family and friends, he led her to the passenger side of the vehicle
and opened the door. “I’m driving tonight. Tomorrow, we’ll share
the drive to our destination, or you won’t have your honeymoon
anywhere but our bedroom at the club.”

He could almost see the wheels turning in her
head. After a few moments, she pulled the cape to herself and got
into the Hummer, making sure the cape wouldn’t get caught in the
door. He shook his head and, as he walked around the hood of the
tank, as she called it, then heard Marc’s laughter. Adam refused to
look at him and give him any satisfaction.

Clearly, his wife needed to learn more about
obedience and respect. Starting tonight.

Damián climbed the external stairs to his
apartment in the renovated motel building and unlocked the door.
He’d left Rosa, Teresa, and José at Marc’s. Lots more room there
than in his one-room apartment. Besides, Marc had promised to
outfit them at his shop and take them up on the slopes for ski
lessons tomorrow morning. None of them had ever been skiing.
Neither had Damián, for that matter, and he didn’t think he ever
would be.

His family planned to stay a couple more
days, and then fly back. Without him. Rosa insisted she was okay
now, although he wasn’t so sure. But Savi had gotten her started in
therapy sessions with a colleague and, with Julio in custody, Rosa
wasn’t as scared.

Time for Damián to start job hunting Monday.
Good thing he’d managed to save up some money, so it wasn’t as bad
as when he lost his job at the hotel after he got fired for
rescuing Savannah. As an amputee, he sure didn’t have the Marines
to fall back on this time.

Maybe he’d go by the bike shop where he’d
worked until Teresa was raped and see if they'd take him back. If
not, he could put in his application at some other shops in town.
Maybe someday he’d have his own shop.

Yeah, right after pigs start flying.

The money he’d been saving had gone to help
Rosa and the kids, so he was back at square one. He went to the
fridge and pulled out a Dos Equis bottle. With the remote in his
other hand, he sat down on the couch and flipped through the
channels until he found the cable show on Harley Davidsons and
leaned back. Mid swig, the doorbell rang.

Who the hell would be coming over here
tonight? He never had company. Maybe something was wrong with Rosa
or the kids. With a sigh, he laid his bottle on the coffee table
and hauled himself up out of the couch.

He looked out the peephole, but only saw the
back of someone’s head. A redheaded-female, someone he didn’t
recognize. Sliding the deadbolt, he opened the door. As if in slow
motion, Savi Baker turned around to face him. She wore sunglasses,
which was odd, considering it was nighttime. But he recognized her
slender, perfect nose and those sexy full lips.

His heart jumped into his throat. “Did
something happen to Teresa?”

“Teresa? No.” Her eyes opened wider. “No! I’m
sure she’s fine.”

Then what the hell was Savannah—Savi—doing in
Denver? A blast of cold air made him aware she wasn’t wearing a
very substantial coat. “Come in.” He stood out of the way and
motioned her inside.

“No, I can’t. I…” She turned and looked down
at the parking lot, then back at him. Her eyes were filled with
pain and worry. What was wrong? His protective instincts went on
red alert, but first he needed answers.

“Why are you here? How did you find me?”
What’s wrong?

She closed her eyes and tried to compose
herself, then looked up at him. “I looked at the next of kin info
in Teresa’s file.”

Wasn’t that against some code of ethics or
something? Not that he’d complain. He’d dreamed of her finding him
like this many times. Well, maybe not in this exact scenario,
but…

“We need your help.”

“We?”

She looked back down at the parking lot and
he glanced down over the railing to see what or who she was looking
at, but didn’t see anyone. When he looked back up at Savi, she’d
removed the glasses. Her right eye was swollen and puffy. Someone’s
fist had slammed into it.

“Who hit you?”

“I can’t say, but we need a place to hide out
for awhile, until I can figure out what to do.”

Oh, shit, of course. “Marisol? Is she
okay?”

Savi nodded. “She’s asleep in the car. We
drove day and night. I was afraid to fly or stay in motels. I
didn’t want to leave a trail.”

What the hell was going on with her? Who was
chasing her? And why?

“Look, that car’s going to get cold PDQ. Why
don’t you get Marisol and come inside to warm up?”

She held her arm to her side and admitted in
a husky voice, “I can’t lift her.” Did she have other injuries?
Maybe he needed to get Doc over here to check her out.

“Give me your keys. I’ll get her.”

She seemed reluctant to turn her keys over to
him at first, but when another blast of cold air hit her in the
face, she looked down at the parking lot and pulled the keys out of
her jacket pocket. “Follow me.”