Unchained (2 page)

Read Unchained Online

Authors: Suzanne Halliday,Jenny Sims

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Military, #Literature & Fiction, #Contemporary Fiction

BOOK: Unchained
11.62Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Daniel began to stir in her arms. His morning catnap was running out of steam. Soon, her mother would be at the door full of smiles and a joyous enthusiasm for life. She could talk to her, she supposed.

It took her less than a second to nix that idea. Her mom was in deep, deep happy land at the moment, and Tori didn’t want to do anything to rock the boat. It was a rare pleasure for an adult child to watch while their widowed parent, who raised her alone and whom she loved like crazy, got swept off her feet and fell in love. Calder Dane somehow managed to turn her powerhouse mom into a giggling, blushing schoolgirl. Seeing the lovebirds together was pure pleasure. Her mom deserved to be happy, and Tori wasn’t going to do anything to encroach on that.

So where did that leave her? Meghan was on the other side of the world. Her mom was knee-deep in love. There was Lacey, of course. Lacey would always be her first sister. They were both new moms and shared practically everything. But whining to her about Draegyn’s birth control bullying felt wrong.

The sound of Daniel working his binky like a champ signaled he was waking from his short snooze. She rubbed her hand up and down his little back and breathed him in again. When his head popped up like a jack-in-the-box, she had to chuckle. His sleepy eyes and goofy grin with the camo-themed binky hanging from his mouth was the cherry on top of the whipped cream of her day. When he yawned and a shiver rippled through his body, she hugged him tight.

Her son’s warm brown hair with the honey-dipped highlights curled around his face drawing her fingers to the soft waves. “Well, hey there, sleepyhead,” she cooed. “How’s Mama’s big boy?”

Gray-blue eyes that sometimes looked silver crinkled at the corners when he grinned like only a baby could. Slapping a hand on her chest, he quickly bent and rubbed his face on her shirt. He stayed there a few seconds while Tori snuggled him tight. She hoped they were always like this as the years went by.

And then his head popped up again; she saw the devil twinkling in his eyes, and just like that, the catnap was over. Big D was up and would soon be raring to go.

A warm, dry breeze blew through and got the wind chime clanging. Daniel’s head swung to check out the noise.
I want another baby
, she thought. Maybe not tomorrow, but soon. Tori trembled slightly—shocked by her drifting thoughts. Coming out of nowhere, the yearning for another child hit her hard, quickly followed by concerns about her husband’s unsettling behavior.

Did Draegyn want more kids? Sheesh—it wasn’t as if they had ever talked about it. Hell, communication skills weren’t exactly their forte. No, not them. From the second she and the notorious womanizer first set eyes on one another, they snarled and threw fire bolts at each other. Tori thought him an arrogant butthead despite his swoon-worthy good looks. And him? Well, he caught her red-handed hiding behind a dowdy nerd-girl performance that enraged the holy hell out of him.

After that, it was off-the-charts sex—whenever and wherever—which inevitably led to them waking up one morning in Vegas after an alcohol-fueled night of fun to discover they were married. Being Mrs. St. John came in second for shock value after she learned their antics resulted in a pregnancy.

And him? Jesus lord. Draegyn was almost the death of her. The man could fuck up a well-rehearsed scene like nobody’s business. Where women were concerned, all his instincts were just wrong. Getting some sanity back into her life had seemed like such a grand plan back then.

Tori wiggled in the rocker when she remembered how awful it was to leave him. But she had to. He had behaved like a dick—publically—and she simply refused to live life forever looking over her shoulder for whichever horny female had him in her sights.

The knot in her stomach tightened. Women flocked to her husband like bees to flowers. His badass swagger and that double-oh-trouble thing he had going on meant heads turned wherever he went. And not just with the ladies. Tori wasn’t completely ignorant of the guys who made no secret of their feelings either.

The man also wasn’t going to be less attractive as he got older. On the contrary—he was on the climb to forty, and if the drooling behavior of some of the female recruits at the agency was any indication, age didn’t matter when it came to Draegyn.

She wanted to spend her life with this man. Flaws and all. But between the whirlwind way they got together, her bailing, him moving heaven and earth to get her back, a grueling pregnancy, and a less-than-simple birth, plus the ups and downs of life on a daily basis, they’d never once discussed the future. She had no idea if he wanted more kids.

Daniel was working the binky, pulling it out of his mouth with his chubby fingers and trying to put it back. His aim wasn’t always the best, though. He was sitting up on her lap now—mimicking the chair’s movement by rocking his bottom. “Ma,” he gurgled happily. “Ma-ma.”

Her heart exploded with love. Finding the whole ‘mama’ thing irresistible, she’d adopted her mother’s endearing Southern twang, which seemed to be rubbing off on her son. How damn funny was that?

“Ma-ma,” he babbled over and over. Eventually, the binky went sailing through the air, landing in the dirt at the foot of the patio steps. Her boy had quite the pitching arm.

Not even sitting in the shade was enough to keep the intense summer heat at bay. Having almost twenty pounds of baby plastered to her wasn’t helping either. Time for them to move inside and start getting ready for the day. Their morning respite was over.

Shifting Daniel’s body, she slung him on her hip as she stood and walked toward the doors. “Mom Mom’s coming,” she exclaimed brightly. “Let’s get you dressed, big guy, and sunscreen slimed.” Her son laughed and smiled. Above all, she and Draegyn created a magnificent child. Daniel Alexander St. John was going to change the world someday. She was sure of it.

All of a sudden, Raven came bounding around the side of the house and scrambled up the patio. Stupid dog. The second Daniel fell asleep, she’d snuck away—not that Tori had to wonder where she went. If the baby was awake, the golden Labrador was on duty nearby. Heaven help the poor fool who didn’t pass muster because the overprotective canine was a force to be reckoned with.

But when Daniel was offline, asleep, or out of the house, the ornery mutt pretty much stalked the front driveway waiting for Daddy to come home. Like every other damn female on the planet, even their dog was enamored and made stupid by the St. John charm.

Tori opened the door and kicked it wider as the dog swept by. It reminded her of the guys when they were on assignment. How they checked for safety and security first. Raven scooted about the first floor, and when she satisfied that no threats lurked, she joined Tori in the kitchen as she sat the baby in his seat and set about washing his face and hands.

Reaching down, she stroked the dog’s head. “Good girl.”

And then, fuck. Two simple words were enough to send her into a downward spiraling funk. Good girl. Draegyn used to say that to her. His husky growl invaded her mind.
“That’s my good girl. Just a little bit more.”

What the hell was up with her husband? Why was their lovemaking so restrained? Was he bored? Unsatisfied? Unhappy?

None of that seemed likely. He’d proven himself a wonderful father. He was present, engaged, and involved. Shit, sometimes she had to push him to go to work instead of spending his days immersed in daddy duty.

Outwardly, his commitment to her and their family hadn’t changed. He was loving and concerned about her all the damn time.

But the man in her bed wasn’t the man she yearned for. She was sick and tired of the paint-by-number sex and the way he kept himself in check. Enough was fucking enough. She had to find out what the hell was going on before the worry and doubt ate her alive.

D
RAE SWITCHED OFF
the music and tossed the remote control aside. He wasn’t in the mood to hear Bon Jovi singing about going home. The truth was he wasn’t in the mood to hear much of anything these days.

“Did you tell the Major about any of this?”

Cam looked up and shrugged. “No.”

Sneering as he raised a single eyebrow, Drae considered choking his friend for being so wordy. “A conversation pause is when you elaborate, dickhead. Stop making me ask.”

Watching Cam rise from his chair and amble slowly to the fridge, Drae shook his head and sighed. And they called him the calm and collected one. Joke. No one knew better than he and the Major what the expression still waters run deep really meant. The man called Cameron Justice was the fucking poster boy for the sentiment. Complicated, passionate, and a profoundly deep thinker, his old friend might say very little, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t feeling quite a lot. It was the pulling it out of him that made it all so interesting. And at times, tedious as fuck.

After slugging down half a container of water, Cam capped the refillable bottle and leaned his hips against a worktable. When he finally said something, it was a doozy.

“Y’know, when we were spitting the dirt and grit of that fucking war out of our throats every damn day, so many threats and so much scary shit were coming at us twenty-four-seven that I figured once we were out of that hellhole, I’d never feel any of that crap again.”

A nod was all he managed. Drae didn’t like to talk about the war. He didn’t want to think about all the fucked-up shit they did and the horrors they faced.

“But let me tell you something, man. Nothing is scarier than a mother—make that two mothers—going up one side of you and down the other with a finger-wagging performance and a raft of threats that leave you shaking in your shoes.”

Ah. He got it now. The two moms. Drae snickered. Ashleigh Marquez was someone they’d had plenty of dealings with over the years, but Maggie O’Brien?
Holy Irish shitballz.
That lady was one hell of a ballbuster. Getting to know Alex’s new mother-in-law while the O’Brien’s lingered at the Villa after the wedding, he had no doubt where Meghan got her grit. Cojones should be Maggie’s middle name.

“Oh geez,” he muttered. “That’s not good.”

“Tell me about it,” Cam drawled. “They sandbagged me. The lot of them. Even Parker’s fucking parents got in on it. Seriously, Drae,” he muttered. “Maybe you should have locked up the wine cellar while the AARP squad was in residence.”

He bit off a laugh. Cam had a point. Since neither of them had any meaningful parental experiences, forcing them to deal with three powerful families had been a dumbass move. Cristián Marquez said jump, and he and Cam asked how high.

Throw the equally impressive Paddy O’Brien into the mix, as well as Matthew Sullivan, and whatever alpha swagger he and Cam had diminished a thousandfold in the face of some original badassery.

“So, what? We say nothing, and when they get back and realize Finn O’Brien got left here in a timeout, we act like it’s no big deal?”

Cam growled. “That kid’s a fucker. If he weren’t Meghan’s little brother, I’d have knocked his damn teeth down his throat on day one.”

Pfft.
“Word.”

They looked at each other. What the fuck were they supposed to do?

Cam heaved forward off the worktable and came back to the project they’d been working on. Lacey wanted an old-fashioned wooden rocking horse for Dylan, so Drae searched the Internet for the perfect one, downloaded the plans, and got them set up.

“Those two can’t get back here quick enough.” Cam studied the pieces they’d cut earlier and moved them around on the table. “I’m not cut out for surrogate Big Daddy shit.”

The statement was so right on and hilarious that Drae barked out a laugh. “I know, right?”

“Did you see what Finn and that guy from Pete’s got into out in the desert? I mean, come the fuck on.” He shook his head dismissively. “What those boys need is an extended boot camp. Kick their fucking asses into shape.”

Snickering, Drae drawled, “They shot up half a dozen targets. Shitheads have piss-poor aim. They wouldn’t be able to hit a seven-forty-seven parked right in front of ‘em. Calder threatened his ass. Did you know that?”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. And it wasn’t pretty. From what I gathered, he and Stephanie were riding with my son when an M-80 went off close to the barn.”

Other books

Sealed in Sin by Juliette Cross
The Golden One by Elizabeth Peters
Breakfast with a Cowboy by Vanessa Devereaux
Love Me to Death by Sharlay
Tidal Wave by Arend, Vivian
Southpaw by Rich Wallace
Night Chills by Dean Koontz
Love Struck by Amber Garza