Warnings and Wildfires

  She sighs. “He kind of had to. I’m a bit of a momzilla and voiced some opinions on what you might have dragged my son into. But he set me straight,” she says, barely taking a breath. “I’m sorry, honey.”

  Is she apologizing to me?

  I glance at Sully again. He stood up to his mom. For me? When I’ve caused him so much trouble?

  I can’t even be upset with her. She’s just looking out for her son. Because that’s what a good mother does.

  “That’s okay, Mrs. Wallace. I’d have some questions too, if I were you.”

  She hugs me tighter and over her shoulder I see Sully sigh with relief.

  “You must be hungry,” she says, running her hand over my hair.

  “A little. I think that’s what woke me up. Something smelled good.” I glance around the kitchen as she releases me. “Where’s Celia?”

  “She ran over to the apartment,” Sully explains.

  “Do you need help, Mrs. Wallace?” I ask as she retreats to the stove.

  “No. You stay there. Let me feed you.”

  Sully watches his mother for a second before taking the chair next to me. “Are you okay?”

  I flick my gaze to his mother and back to him. “I think I’m going to be just fine.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  “You sure that’s the one, Maddy?”

  “Yup.” She presses her finger against the glass right over the vintage-style red garnet ring we picked out for Aubrey. “She’ll love that one.”

  The cushion cut stone has a halo of tiny diamonds surrounding it and more set into the slim band. It’ll look perfect on Aubrey’s hand.

  “Yes?” the saleswoman asks.

  “That one.”

  “Are you nervous, Dad?” Maddy asks while I’m paying for the ring.

  “Nope.” Well, I’m concerned Madison won’t be able to contain her excitement and will spill the beans before I propose.

  But I also wanted her to feel included, which is well worth the risk of Aubrey learning about my plans.

  “Pack your bikini, baby!” Sully shouts when he comes in the door.

  “Uh, what?”

  He strides into the kitchen, wearing a big smile, eyes full of mischief.

  “We’re going to the beach for your birthday.”

  “Where? What beach?” Excitement bubbles up inside me. “I have—”

  “No classes until Tuesday.”

  “But what about your classes?”

  The gym’s back on track and doing well since the re-opening. We’re busier than ever. Not really a good time for Sully to take a vacation.

  “Murphy’s covering. Tickets are paid for. Hotel is booked, so don’t try to talk me out of it.”

  Excited, I throw my arms around him for a kiss. “Thank you.”

  He pats my ass a few times. “Come on, go get ready.”

  “We’re leaving now?”

  “In two hours.”

  “Sully,” I scold. “I can’t pack that fast.” But I’m laughing and already running to the bedroom as I say it.

  Two hours later we’re waiting to board our plane to Tampa.

  “I’ve been checking the weather all week. It’s actually pretty chilly down there right now,” Sully says.

  I glance at the wide plate glass window at New York’s frozen winter sky. “Is it warmer than negative two degrees?”

  “Yup.”

  “Then I can’t wait.”

  The next morning, Sully has me up early to watch the sunrise on the beach. The sand is so soft under our feet, it feels like flour.

  It’s January, so we’re one of only a few people walking along the surf. We’re probably the only ones in shorts and T-shirts.

  The sunrise happens both gradually and fast, breaking the dark blue night sky with bursts of yellow and orange.

  “It’s beautiful,” I whisper.

  Sully must be as awed as I am because he doesn’t answer. I turn and find him down on one knee.

  “Looking for shells?” I tease.

  He holds up a small black velvet box. “Nope, try again.”

  With shaky fingers, I reach out and he takes my hand. “I never knew what my life was missing until I met you. Your kindness and creativity inspire me every day. You’re the only person I want to watch all my sunrises and sunsets with. Will you marry me?”

  Tears roll down my cheeks the second I realize what he’s doing. I blubber out, “Yes.” Then fall to my knees in the sand beside him.

  “What are you doing?” he asks.

  “I love you.”

  “Good, because you just said yes and you can’t take it back.” He grins as he plucks the ring out of its box. “Careful, I don’t want to drop it in the sand.”

  My left hand won’t stop trembling as he takes it and slips the ring on my finger. “It’s so beautiful. How’d you know I wanted a—oh my God! Maddy. I’m such an idiot.” I frown.

  He grins even wider. “I’m shocked she managed to keep it a secret for so long.”

  “But that was months ago.”

  “I knew I wanted to propose at the beach. It’s been killing me. I wanted to do it that night we went to lights in the park. And then I thought maybe New Year’s Eve—”

  I dive at him, knocking him back against the sand and pepper his face with kisses. “This is perfect.”

  His arms wrap around me, warm and secure.

  “Can we get married on the beach too?” I ask.

  He leans up and presses a kiss to my lips.

  “We can get married anywhere you want.”

  EPILOGUE

  Strike Back has finally reached two-hundred and fifty thousand subscribers on our YouTube channel. A quarter of a million people in record time.

  Sully also scored a lucrative sponsorship deal. They’d outfitted the gym with tons of new equipment after we fixed the place up.

  And tonight Strike Back is throwing a party to celebrate. We’re live-streaming parts of it on the channel.

  “Congratulations, man,” Griff says, shaking Sully’s hand.

  Sully’s arm tightens around my shoulders. “All her, Griff. This is Aubrey’s doing.”

  Griff nods at me. “You gonna turn this into a full-time business?”

  “Maybe.” I tip my head in Wrath’s direction. “I’ve been working on a plan for Furious Fitness. I just haven’t sold him on the videos. Trinity’s supposed to help me convince him.”

  Griff chuckles. “Good luck with that.”

  “Go, circulate,” Sully says. “But see me later, I have something I want to discuss with you.”

  “Got it.”

  Sully turns to me, cupping my face and rubbing his thumb over my cheek. “I need to see you in my office.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Not a thing.” His simmering stare and lowered voice suggest exactly what he has in mind.

  “Oh.” My gaze darts around the room. “You think that’s a good idea when it’s so crowded?”

  “I think it’s a great idea.” He steers me toward the office and slowly twists the knob. “What the fuck?” He shoves his shoulder against the door, pushing it open enough to get an eyeful.

  Sully and I stand there, mouths open, staring at the sight in front of us.

  Jake glances over his shoulder, shielding my sister from our view. I’m pretty sure that heap of cloth on Sully’s desk is her dress.

  “Can’t you take a hint?” Jake jerks his chin at us. “I shoved the chair against the door for a reason.”

  Slowly, we back away and shut the door.

  We stand there and stare at each other for a few seconds.

  “Let’s never speak of this,” I finally say.

  He chuckles and leads me away from the door. “What are we going to do?”

  I shrug. “About what?”

  “Aubrey, I’m serious. I love my brother, but commitment isn’t in his vocabulary.”

  “Uh, I’m pretty sure my sister’s allergic to relationships so I wouldn’
t worry about it.”

  His gaze strays to his still-closed office door. I rest my hand on his arm.

  “Not our problem, Sully. Whatever goes on between them, won’t impact us. Promise.”

  “Promise,” he echoes.

  I glance back at the office again. “Boy, that’s going to make Sunday dinners awkward. Not to mention our wedding.”

  His gaze darts around the room and lands on the back door. His mouth slides into a sly smile. “Come on, I have something I want to show you outside.”

  Skeptical, I squint at him. “Is it in the backseat of your Jeep?”

  He flashes the impish smile that warms me from head to toes and makes me love him even more each time I see it. “You’ll have to come with me to find out.”

  If you’re in the mood for a fiercely protective alpha hero, please continue reading for an excerpt of Slow Burn.

  CHAPTER ONE

  It wasn’t love at first sight when I met her. Lust? Definitely. I don’t think I believed in love at the time, but one look at her beautiful face, and all the bad stuff around me melted away. Not an easy feat for a guy in handcuffs.

  Someone as innocent as her should never have gotten involved with a man like me. By innocent, I don’t mean she was some breathy, eighteen-year-old virgin ingénue. No—when we met, she was a thirty-one-year-old married lady. When I use the word innocent, it is in terms of never having killed someone. Never seeing someone die in front of her. Never breaking the law.

  True violence had never touched her life.

  Violence and I had been close personal friends for a large part of my life. Along with crime. And death. I used violence as a tool to keep order in my often chaotic world, just as she used the law to keep things orderly in her black-and-white one.

  She was a lawyer. I was a criminal. She was married to a decent, hard-working, honest guy. I fucked any willing girl who hung out in my club, and made my living in less than honest ways.

  She was kind. I didn’t know any nice women. Hadn’t known one since my mother died shortly after my eighth birthday. I don’t have many memories of her, but the ones I do have are warm and pleasant.

  None of the tramps my father brought home after her death had an ounce of compassion for a motherless brat. The strippers that danced in my club seemed younger every day. A lot of them were bitchy drama queens, and the older I got, the less patience I had for emotional scenes. The girls who attended to the members of my motorcycle club were down to fuck, but not much else. That’s how I liked them.

  We met in a courtroom. I sat in the area designated for prisoners. Shackles laced my hands and feet together. I shuffled into the room wearing a spiffy orange jumpsuit, the county correctional logo stenciled across my back in big white letters—just in case anyone thought I suffered from bad fashion sense.

  She sat in the front row. I didn’t hang my head when I entered. I stood proud and tall looking over the entire room. Some of my brothers stood along the back wall, waiting to see if I’d get bail.

  I couldn’t find my attorney in the sea of people. His big, shiny, bald dome should have been easy to spot. My gaze wandered back to the girl in the front row. Long, straight, reddish-brown hair flowed down past her shoulders. Straight bangs across her forehead framed brilliant green eyes. Even from where I sat, I spotted freckles splattered across her nose. The deep green suit she wore emphasized the creaminess of her skin. The banister separating the criminals from the common folk blocked my view of anything below her shoulders, but that angelic face hooked me right away.

  The sheriff leaned over and whispered to me, “Your attorney called to say he’s running late.” I nodded and mumbled a “thanks” without taking my eyes off the girl. Was her old man locked up? Was she a witness to a crime? Would my asshole lawyer get here so I could get free and talk to the girl?

  “Any other message?” I asked Deputy Brown. He was a decent guy as far as pigs went. He’d treated me with respect, hadn’t tried to bash my head into anything, and even brought me a donut before leading me upstairs to court. He didn’t get a chance to answer, because the bailiff made a big show of telling me to shut up. Arrogant prick wasn’t good enough to even be a cop, but he sure acted like one. I’d dealt with him before.

  My eyes returned to the girl. She sat patient and attentive, waiting her turn. Once or twice, she looked at the clock. Only a slight twitch of her lips indicated her annoyance.

  After what seemed like an eternity, the bailiff called the next case, and the girl stood up. She hauled a battered briefcase over her shoulder and stepped through the swinging gate up to the table across from where I sat.

  Holy shit.

  If I’d been anywhere else in the world, I would have whistled long and low to express my appreciation for the soft curves of her body. The skirt she wore fell to her knees, but it clung to all the right spots and showcased a fantastic set of calves. Her modest heels clicked over the wooden floor, calling my attention to her slender ankles. I was so busy drooling over her I missed it when she stated her name.

  The dickhead bailiff brought over a chair and actually smiled at her. She thanked him politely. The judge made some chit-chat with her, and she let out a girlish giggle. People seemed to know her. Like her.

  “Attorney Kendall?”

  “Yes, your honor.” She stood up. Ah, she was a lawyer. That explained the chit-chat. She argued some civil matter I didn’t understand or care about. I listened to her make her case, then watched her sit down. Her opponent didn’t have a lawyer. He bumbled around and generally made a fool of himself. She listened with a passive expression, then argued her position again. The judge ruled in her favor.

  I wanted her. In more ways than one after her performance. The courtroom was almost empty. My guys still occupied the back row, but that was it. If my lawyer didn’t show up soon, I’d be screwed.

  I nudged Deputy Brown with my elbow. “Can she represent me?”

  “I don’t think she’s a criminal attorney.”

  “Just for the arraignment. To get me out.”

  “I’ll ask.”

  The deputy motioned to the bailiff to watch me and went to talk to the clerk. She nodded, and when the judge had a moment, she whispered in his ear.

  Fuck. The girl was putting her stuff away and getting ready to leave. I really wanted her. I mean, I wanted to fuck her, of course. But I also wanted her to represent me. People seemed to like and respect her. I’d been in and out of the criminal justice system long enough to know getting out of trouble was sometimes less about what you knew and more about who you knew. If I’d gotten picked up in a different county, I could have used my connections to make this go away. Here, I was kind of stuck. I needed her.

  “Attorney Kendall, could you stay and do an arraignment, please?” the judge asked off the record.

  Her jaw dropped, and the color drained from her face. “Uh, I’m not a criminal attorney, your honor,” she stammered.

  “It’s pretty simple. Mr. North’s attorney got delayed. Don’t make me appoint you,” he teased.

  “Well, um, just for the limited purpose of this arraignment?” she asked with a hopeful lilt to her voice.

  “That’s fine.”

  The judge waved me over next to her. Her big eyes widened in shock as I lumbered over. I was mildly insulted. Had she really not noticed me the entire time I’d been sitting there?

  “I can pay you,” I whispered down to her.

  She looked startled. “It’s okay. What are we dealing with?”

  I liked the way she said “we.”

  “Weed.”

  She gave me a blank stare.

  “Marijuana. Got caught with a couple blunts.” Acting on a bad tip from one of the club’s many enemies, the cops had been hoping to pin a whole hell of a lot more on me. This was why, instead of ignoring the weed like most cops did these days, I was standing here in shackles and the orange jumpsuit.

  “Oh geez.” She rolled her eyes. At me or the charge, I wasn’t sur
e.

  “Do you have a record?”

  “About a mile long.”

  That stopped her. She stared up at me, searching my face for the truth. Apparently deciding no one would joke about that, she nodded her head.

  “Can you post bail? Do you work? Have a family?”

  “Yes, yes, and yes.”

  She didn’t ask what kind of work. Or what kind of family for that matter.

  “Your honor, I’ve had a chance to confer with my client.”

  “Very well. Let’s call it.”

  His clerk stood and read out, “The People of the State of New York versus Rochlan North.” Look at that—the old gal even pronounced my first name right.

  My girl looked up at me again. My manners were shit. I’d never bothered to introduce myself, I guess.

  The judge slammed his gavel down. First time I’d heard him do it all morning. The sharp thwack broke the staring contest my pretty lawyer and I were engaged in.

  “Do you wish to hear the reading of the charges, counselor?”

  She hesitated for a minute, and the judge covered the microphone with his hand. “Usually the attorney waives the reading, Miss Kendall.”

  “I know, your honor. Thank you. Yes, I’ll waive the reading. May I have a copy of the charges for my file, though?”

  “Yes, of course. Do you wish to be heard on bail?”

  “Yes, your honor. My client assures me he can pay a reasonable sum. He’s a hard-working family man, so it would be in society’s best interest to allow him to continue to work and provide for his family while he waits to address these false charges.”

  I’m proud to say I kept a straight face during all of that. She impressed me with her quick thinking, though. Criminal attorney or not, she was clever. I had a fondness for clever. Clever kept you alive.

  Cute and smart. I should get arrested more often.

  “Very well. Bail is set in the amount of five hundred dollars cash. If your client is able to post it now, he can be processed downstairs instead of going back to county.”