Sweet Recovery (Ex Ops Series Book 4) (14 page)

“Uncle Sam, I hadn’t expected to hear from you while I was on vacation.”

Translation:
What the hell are you doing calling me while I am still on a mission?

He was silent for a moment, his brows furrowed, and then he frowned. “That package isn’t due for another month. Are you sure it’s about to be delivered?”

The look on our Commander’s face wasn’t good. I just hoped we weren’t going to have to turn around and go back to bust another sick bastard. There was only so much shit I could hope to un-see in one day.

“Understood. We’ll rush back so we can be home to sign for the delivery.”

Jaxon flipped his phone shut then tapped on the small, tinted window that separated the back of the van from the cab. The window slid open, a few clipped Russian words were exchanged, and then the sliding window slammed shut again.

Unexpectedly, the van sped up, and we had to grab the edge of the benches to avoid sliding into each other when the driver took a sharp right turn.

Obviously worried over the sudden change in both our commander and the speed the van was traveling, Baker leaned toward the man in charge.

“What’s going on, Jaxon?”

“It’s time to get you home, Baker.” The matter-of-fact statement, paired with his deadly serious expression, made my stomach sink. Then a slow smile spread across his face until I didn’t think he could possibly grin any wider. “Apparently, your baby girl is on the way.”

The color drained from Baker’s face, and he stopped breathing.

“I think he’s gonna pass out,” Arturo murmured next to me, about as pale and shaking as Bobby Baker.

Riley gave Baker a congratulatory slap on the back, but the man still didn’t say a word.

“Nah, he’s not gonna faint until he sees his baby girl comin’ out of his woman’s hoo-ha. Once he gets a good view of that and realizes just how far she was stretched to push that little girl out, he’s never going to look at gettin’ laid the same way again,” I joked.

“And just how do you know that, Young?” Jaxon asked.

“My father warned me and my brothers never to look when the time came for us to have children. Said he made that mistake with my oldest brother and was so worried about what he saw he asked the doctor if he could put a couple of extra stitches in my mom when he sewed her up.”

Baker didn’t laugh at my joke, too lost in his head. “My baby girl’s due date wasn’t supposed to be for another month. Why in the hell is she coming so early? Is there something wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Baker. Well, nothing except the fact that your daughter apparently inherited your impatience.” Jaxon snorted.

Baker looked at our commander in a daze and asked, “Did I say that out loud?”

Jaxon rolled his eyes. “Yes, dumbass, you did. And you still are. Now snap out of your shit and get ready to unload. We should be at the airport any minute now. We’ll load up on our bird and make our way back stateside so you can get home in time for the big event.”

It took another ten minutes before our van came to a screeching halt at the airfield. Not waiting for the others, Baker threw the back doors open and leaped out the back with his gun in his hand and hauled ass to the private jet used to ferry us around.

The plane’s door swung open, and the steps dropped down just as Baker reached them. He took the steps two at a time then pushed past our pilot who watched his mad dash with wide eyes.

The rest of us also double-timed it into the plane so we could support Baker in the only way we could—by helping him get back home as fast as possible.

Our pilot, an Air Force veteran, was alert because of our entrance. “Is there trouble I should know about, Mr. Baker?”

“No bogies behind us, Captain. Just fly this bird out of here the second you get those bozos on board. I’ve got some place to be, and you’re damn well going to get me there!” Baker barked back.

“Ignore his bad attitude, Captain Burke. He just found out his fiancée went into labor, so he’s anxious to get stateside,” I informed our pilot with a smile as I moved to my seat, sat down, and buckled up.

Baker tried to lunge at me but was held back by the buckle he had forgotten was secured already. He pointed a finger at me in warning and snarled, “I’ll show you bad attitude, asshole, when I shove my size twelve up your ass. One day, it’ll be you with a baby on the way, and I’m going to laugh my ass off.”

The words brought the image of Ginny round and heavy with my child to my mind, and a fresh wave of heartache and anger consumed me. It took everything I had to make my face go blank so the men around me wouldn’t see my bitterness. “Not likely, bro.”

With those three words, the conversation ended.

Long moments later, Riley broke the tense silence. “You’ll never believe what I walked into the other day when I visited Declan at his temporary house.”

“He was doin’ the nurse?” Baker joked.

Riley shook his head. “Nope. It was the opposite. The nurse was trying to do him, and he was telling her no. Can you believe that shit? The biggest man-whore we know was trying to fight off a chick who was trying to wrap her lips around his cock while he was all but defenseless in a wheelchair.”

I snorted. “Since when did he become Saint Sullivan and take a vow of chastity?”

Riley looked contemplative. “I think that explosion took out more than Declan’s back. I think it might have knocked some sense into him, as well. He hasn’t even so much as flirted with a woman since he woke up in the hospital, asking for one feisty redhead.”

Baker’s jaw dropped open in shock. “You’re shittin’ me, man. He’s asking for Teagan?”

Riley nodded.

“Man hating, ball busting Teagan who uses men like they’re a real-life dildo and is my wife’s best friend? That Teagan?”

Riley nodded again. “Yeah. You know, I’ve always known there was something different about her when it came to Dec. He doesn’t do repeats like that, but whenever she slipped in to see him, he dropped whatever he was doing. He always got a little broody after he’d wake up to find her gone, too.”

“Those two are a match made in Hell; you know that, right?” Baker asked him.

I watched the exchange, still silent but noting the displeasure on Baker’s face. Perhaps he didn’t like the idea of his wife’s best friend hooking up with a man on our team. It made me wonder whom he was trying to protect, though: Declan or his wife’s friend.

Riley shrugged. “I’m not so sure, Baker. There’s something about Teagan that gets to my brother, a feat no other woman has ever pulled off. For that reason alone, she gets my vote until she fucks it up.”

Something inside of me didn’t like the way Baker was shooting down the idea of the couple. I was sure some suited up shrink would probably tell me it was because they still had a chance at happiness, whereas I knew mine was long gone. One way or another, I wished they would change the fucking topic. I didn’t want to hear about their love lives when mine was down the drain.

“Don’t be so worried about Sullivan. He’ll either win the woman over, or he won’t,” I muttered.

Bobby looked at me somberly. “And if he doesn’t win her, what does he do then, Lucas?”

I had this funny feeling that Bobby wasn’t just talking about Declan anymore. The man saw too much, and none of them had bothered to hide how worried they had been about me since Miami.

I shrugged, doing my best to ignore the pain in my chest. “He moves on, Baker. Life is what it is, and sometimes, you don’t get what you want. The world doesn’t end, so he’ll learn to move on with the world.”

Baker’s mouth opened as if he were going to say more, but then the plane started to move, bringing his attention back to what was waiting for him across the ocean.

Taking advantage of his distraction, I laid my head back and closed my eyes. It was a copout, but I didn’t give a shit. I didn’t need them poking around in my love life or lack thereof.

While the plane was loud, I heard Jaxon walk out of the cockpit and inform Baker, “Flight time back to the States is almost twelve hours. Captain Burke says he’ll have us there in eleven. It’s the best he can do.”

The statement was followed by a heavy sigh, and then Baker said, “Right. Eleven is better than twelve, so I won’t bitch.”

I continued to sit there silently as I heard Jaxon give an amused snort. “You know—”

“Sir, you’re not about to tell me some shit about Confucius, are you? Because, frankly, right now, Confucius can go blow it out of his ass,” Baker snapped back, quick as lightning.

Jaxon laughed. “I’m not a Confucius fan, Baker. Sun Tzu, on the other hand …
The Art of War
should be a mandatory read for every soldier, in my opinion. But, since you bring up Confucius, this reminds me of something he said. ‘
It does not matter how slowly you go as long as you do not stop
.’ ”

“With all due respect, sir, if you’re going to spend eleven hours quoting dead guys, I might duct tape your mouth shut and stuff you in the bathroom.”

I didn’t say a word, but I was totally with Baker on that one. If Jaxon didn’t shut the fuck up, I was going to give Baker the damn duct tape.

Afraid our commander wouldn’t take the hint and shut up, though, I tuned them all out and tried to take a nap. Flashbacks were better than listening to Jaxon’s history lessons … unless they were flashbacks of Ginny. Then I think I would rather listen to the commander tell me every fucking history lesson he knew.

~~~

Why the fuck was I here?

Two hours after landing back on US soil, Chase had somehow talked me into going out with him. He failed to mention that we would be going to the Coochie Castle. Didn’t I learn my lesson the last time I went to a strip club? And everywhere I looked, every woman I saw just reminded me in some way, somehow of the woman she wasn’t. Not to mention, being at anything that constituted a bar was not a good idea for me right now. Ever since the day Chase had shown up at my apartment and dumped my drunk ass in the shower, I had been trying to cut back, as in not drink at all.

The thought of fucking up a mission and costing one of my teammates their lives had been the best reason ever to give up the whiskey bottle. Having a good reason to quit didn’t mean it was easy, though. That was why I was sitting here, at the front of a side stage where Chase had parked his ass, trying to keep my mind active and off the temptation of booze.

I was probably the only guy in this place who had his back turned to a stripper on the stage as I leaned against it and watched the crowd.

Looking over at my teammate, I found him drinking a beer and watching the woman dancing in front of him like she was a steak and he was starving. Only, his face wasn’t tilted up to see the bare breasts I knew she was playing with. I could see her reflection in the mirrors on the wall. No, his gaze was focused on the long, slender limbs in stiletto high heels she was dancing on.

“Why are you staring at her legs?”

“Because I’m picturing them wrapped around my head as I eat her pussy,” he replied without hesitation.

I snorted a laugh. “Do you ever not think about sex?” Picking up my soda, I took large gulps.

“Shh … don’t talk.” He used his hand to wave me off like I was a pesky fly. “Hearing your voice ruins the fantasy. Plus, it brings back bad memories of that time I was drunk and made out with a chick for thirty minutes before I figured out she was really a dude.”

Shocked, I choked on the soda and almost spit it back out.

Still coughing, I croaked, “Only you. Only you would do that, man.”

Chase pointed the opening of his bottle toward me in accusation. “You would have, too, if you’d seen this broad. She had an ass I could have played drums on and tits big enough to be my pillows at night.”

The earnestness on his face made me laugh. “You’re an idiot. It never crossed your mind that they could be implants?”

He shrugged. “Silicon doesn’t bother me … but finding a dick bigger than mine between her legs sure freaked me the fuck out.”

Completely caught up in Chase’s ridiculous tale, I couldn’t help asking him with a laugh, “What bothered you most? That she had one at all or that it was bigger than yours?”

He set his beer bottle on the bar along the stage and looked at me as if I were the dumbest person on the planet. “Dude, when does any man like finding out his dick isn’t the biggest in the place? I don’t give two flying freaky monkeys what she likes or needs in the bedroom; it’s just not my thing. She got me all worked up, showin’ me that she put the ass in sass while she was gyrating on my dick on the dance floor. There I was, drunk and ready to fuck her brains out, and then”—he snapped his fingers in my face—“BAM! I find her schlong is like King Kong’s. Sobered me right the fuck up, I tell ya!”

I was laughing so hard my eyes were watering, because honest to God, I swear shit like that only happened to Chase. Declan might have been the man-whore of our squad, but Chase was just as wild when it came to chasing skirts. Maybe after that incident, he would be a little more reluctant about sticking his hand up the next skirt.

Ignoring my laughing, Chase smacked my arm and motioned to the stage behind me. “Look, she even comes with an ‘oh, shit’ handle.”

Glancing back at the stripper, I scanned her from head to toe, looking for random handles or car parts attached to her outfit, but I found nothing.

Confused, I stopped laughing and looked over at him. “I thought ‘oh, shit’ handles were what you called the grab holds in vehicles. Last time I checked, that chick doesn’t look like a car.”

Chase smirked. “They are, and she has the perfect handle in that ponytail on the top of her head for when I yell ‘OH, SHIT’ right before I come down her throat.”

Shaking my head while I rolled my eyes at him, I turned back around to people watch again. Perhaps finding random giant dicks under chick’s skirts hadn’t quite cured him yet. Of course, if it meant he might have to go through the sort of shitty ass luck I’d had with Ginny, then I wasn’t so sure I wanted him to learn anything at all.

A shoulder jammed into my own, jarring me.

“Stop thinking about her,” Chase commanded.

Annoyed at the intrusion on my thoughts, I snapped back, “How the hell do you know what I’m thinking?”