Hard to Hold on To

  But now that they’d gone there, Easy couldn’t get Jenna out of his head. The feel of her soft curves against all his hardness. The taste of her tentative kisses. The sounds of her throaty little gasps and pleasure-filled moans.

  Jesus. He could live on what she’d given him and die a happy man.

  I don’t want to die.

  The thought took him by the throat and froze his feet to the floor.

  He was so deep into his own head that he didn’t even notice the Rixeys’ apartment door opening right in front of him until it nearly smacked him in the face. He caught the edge of it with his hands and reared back.

  “Damn, sorry, man,” Nick said, as he walked out onto the landing, his brother Jeremy right behind him. Two pair of pale green eyes settled on him, and he could almost hear the questions rattling around in their brains.

  “My fault,” Easy said, throat still tight.

  Nick clapped him on the shoulder. “How’s Jenna doing? Shane said you hung out with her last night so Becca could get some sleep. Appreciate that.”

  “Yeah, well,” Easy said, shrugging and trying to put his thoughts into some kind of order. “Doing better. She thinks maybe she can finally eat, so I was coming down to see what I could scrounge up.”

  “I heard about the drugs they forced on her. Fucking scum bastards.” A scowl on his face, Nick crossed his arms. Easy couldn’t have agreed with him more. Damn it felt good to have someone understand so fundamentally where he was at, how he felt. Easy didn’t have that at home. Not with the way he butted heads with his father—and always had.

  You haven’t told Nick everything about how you’re feeling though, have you?

  No, he hadn’t. And the longer this mission went on and the more dangerous it got, the more problematic the lie of omission became. A key factor in keeping everyone on a team alive was understanding and compensating for each team member’s weaknesses. But the guys had no damn idea just how weak Easy was.

  “Wait, what?” Jeremy said, yanking Easy from his thoughts. Jer looked between them. “They forced her to take drugs? No wonder she was so hyped-up this morning.”

  Nick frowned. “What’d I miss?”

  Easy scrubbed a hand over his hair. “Jenna’s had a couple of panic attacks. She’s okay, but she gets anxious when she’s alone. Speaking of which, I want Sara to go hang with her while I find some chow.”

  “Last bedroom on the right,” Nick said with a smirk. “Might want to knock first.”

  Jeremy rolled his eyes. “Dude, you are so not one to talk right now.”

  Straight-faced, Nick popped Jeremy in the arm with a fist.

  “Dude,” Jeremy said, rubbing his arm. “Maybe you aren’t doing it right ’cause sex is supposed to chill your ass out.”

  Easy managed a smile. “I really like your brother, Rix,” Easy said, looking at Nick.

  Throwing an arm around Easy’s shoulders, Jeremy grinned. “You have good taste in friends, Nick. Gotta give you that much.”

  A hint of a smile playing around his lips, Nick pointed at Easy, then Jeremy. “Fuck you. And fuck you.” And then he crossed the hall and punched a code into the keypad next to the gym door.

  “Aw, don’t be that way, bro,” Jer said. Nick flipped him the bird over his shoulder, making Jeremy laugh. “Annnnd such an easy mark.”

  “Amazing how easily you get under his skin,” Easy said. “I’ve always thought of Nick as letting everything just roll on off.”

  “I have special powers. It’s coded into my DNA.” Jeremy waggled his eyebrows. “Seriously, is Jenna okay?”

  “She will be. Thanks for helping her before.” Easy thought about all the ways that Jeremy had stepped up the past few days where the Dean sisters were concerned. First by extending them an open invitation to live in this building when he’d learned how Sara had been abused by the Church Gang. And second by putting the building up for collateral with the Raven Riders in case they hadn’t nabbed the guns or there weren’t enough of them to pay the MC off after last night’s ops. Finally, by helping Jenna this morning. And those were just the most recent examples. Easy held up his hand, and Jeremy clasped it. “Thanks for everything you’ve done since we invaded your space. Above and beyond.”

  “Just wanna help any way I can,” Jeremy said, and Easy could see the depth of the sentiment in the guy’s eyes.

  “Roger that. Okay, lemme go find Sara.”

  “Good luck,” Jer said, starting down the steps to the tattoo shop.

  Inside the Rixeys’ apartment, Easy went straight back to Shane and Sara’s room and knocked.

  “Come in,” Shane called from inside.

  Easy cracked open the door and peered in. Shane and Sara were stretched out side by side on the bed looking at a laptop screen.

  “Hey, E? What’s up?” Shane asked.

  Easy looked from Shane to Sara, suddenly a little uncomfortable. Because he’d spent most of the day asleep with Jenna. It hadn’t occurred to him to wonder what Jenna’s sister would think of that until this very moment. “Uh, I came down to get Jenna some dinner, and I wondered if Sara would go hang with her. She’s still a little shook-up.”

  Sara was off the bed before he’d even finished asking. “Of course,” she said, and it was clear she was dying to help. Boy, did Easy understand that. She came up to him in the doorway and placed a hand on his chest, allowing him to register that Sara was taller than Jenna. “Thank you for taking such good care of her, Easy. It seems like you two have some kind of connection and, well, I’m happy she has someone who’s making her feel better through all this.” Sara pushed onto her tiptoes and kissed his cheek.

  And that was the second time a Dean woman had taken him by surprise today.

  Not exactly sure how to respond, Easy nodded. “I’m happy to do it.”

  “I’m glad,” she said. Looking over her shoulder at Shane, she said, “I’ll be back in a bit.”

  Shane winked. “Take your time, sweetness.”

  When Sara left, Easy said, “Sorry to interrupt,” then he tapped the doorframe with his hand and made to leave.

  Shane closed the laptop and got up. “Jenna needs anything twenty-four/seven, just ask. It’s not an interruption. I feel almost as protective of her as I do Sara,” he said, raking his hand through his hair.

  “Yeah,” Easy said, wondering whether Shane intended any secondary meaning to his statement. Easy headed for the kitchen. Shane followed and took up a perch on a stool at the breakfast bar as Easy poked his head in the fridge. Looking at food made him realize he was nearly starving and, unlike Jenna, he’d eaten breakfast. After a few more minutes of foraging, he settled on chicken soup and a plain toasted bagel for Jenna and a roast beef sandwich for himself. “Think this is okay?” Easy asked. “You can’t imagine how many times she threw up. I don’t wanna make her sick again.”

  Shane surveyed everything Easy laid out and nodded. “Bland is good. She really needs to get back on the antiepileptics tomorrow. Getting some food into her will help her system soak up whatever they gave her.”

  Easy threw the bagel in the toaster and dumped the soup into a bowl for the microwave. Just the thought of what had been done to her filled his head with a red-hot rage. Little as she was, they could’ve easily overdosed her. And from what Easy understood, Bruno fucking knew she was on meds, so he would’ve had to know there could be drug-interaction implications and not cared. Christ, they could’ve killed her.

  And then he would’ve never seen her again, never held her, never received her kiss. Damn, it might be twelve kinds of wrong, but he wanted all of that. He wanted more.

  Blowing out a breath, Easy stretched his neck. No sense in getting himself all spun up before he went back upstairs.

  Another thought popped into mind—thankfully, this one wasn’t at all angsty. The milk shake she’d fantasized about having. Not bland, but if even a small taste made her happy, it would be worth it.

  Opening the freezer, Easy smiled. God bless the Rix
eys’ ice-cream addiction. There were so many containers, it seemed entirely plausible that they’d robbed an ice-cream delivery truck. He sorted through the tubs until he found a container of chocolate.

  Bingo.

  Next, he grabbed the milk from the fridge. And then he opened a bunch of cabinets until he found a blender at the back of one of them. The layer of dust on its surfaces told of how long it had gone unused. He rinsed and wiped it off, then brought the detachable pitcher to the other counter, where the ice cream lay waiting.

  Shane’s expression was two seconds away from amused.

  “Not a word, McCallan.”

  He held up his hands and shook his head, but he couldn’t hold back the smile. Fucker.

  Scoop, scoop, scoop, milk. Lid on, Easy placed the container on the blender and hit mix. Two minutes later, he had something approximating a very thick milk shake. He spooned it into a glass, then gathered the bagel and soup. Next he built his sandwich, sneaking pieces of beef and cheese as he worked.

  “Damn, that looks good,” Shane said, pushing off the stool and grabbing a plate for himself. “Think I’ll make some food for me and Sara, too.”

  Easy suddenly felt less self-conscious with Shane making food for his woman, too.

  Whoa. He froze with a piece of rye bread in his hand. Jenna was not his woman.

  But maybe she could be.

  Slapping the bread on top of the lettuce, Easy’s thoughts spun—he came up with lots of reasons why it probably wasn’t a good idea, but that didn’t make him want to consider it any less. He sighed as he cleaned up his mess.

  Mid-sandwich-making, Shane spoke in low, even tones. “We don’t have to do that thing where I tell you to handle Jenna with care if you’re thinking of starting something with her, do we?”

  For. Fuck. Sake.

  Not that Easy was particularly surprised by the question. Hadn’t he been half expecting it? And, his brain noted with interest, it wasn’t a warning off.

  “Nope.”

  “I didn’t think so,” Shane said in that same casual, even tone. “I see how protective you are of her, Easy, and I’m glad for that. I know you’ll treat her right. But you should know that her birthday’s next week.”

  Easy’s gaze flashed to Shane’s. “And this is relevant how?”

  “She’ll be twenty.”

  Easy had to grab the counter. “Say again?”

  Twenty? Jesus, he’d known he was older, but he had a full decade on her.

  “You heard me.” Shane sucked a bit of mustard off his finger. “Sara’s only twenty-three, so I’m not saying a thing about it, except handle with care.”

  Nodding, Easy concentrated on making the floor stand still under his feet. Twenty. He blew out a long breath. “I like her, Shane,” he finally said, echoing the conversation he and Shane had had a few nights ago about Shane’s growing feelings for Sara. And, well, hi, how ya doin’, Mr. Hypocrite, Easy had told Shane he had to come clean with the team. Despite the fact that Easy hadn’t done so himself. Still.

  “Yeah,” Shane said, clapping him on the back of the neck and squeezing. “I know.”

  Twenty. Wow.

  Staring at the plates and cups he had to take upstairs, Easy shook the whirling thoughts away and recalled seeing exactly what he needed. From the thin cabinet next to the oven, he retrieved a baking sheet to use as a tray. Improvisation he could do. He loaded it down with everything he thought they’d need and lifted it into his arms.

  “She not ready to be around everyone yet?” Shane asked.

  Easy paused and looked his friend in the eye. Shane McCallan was a good guy through and through, and the fact he implicitly understood where Jenna was at right now meant a lot. “No. The bruises are filling in pretty good. I think she’s feeling self-conscious. She’ll come around, though.”

  Shane nodded. “All right. Tell Sara I made us something to eat?”

  “Yup,” Easy said, and then he was all about getting back to Jenna.

  JENNA SMILED WHEN Easy walked into the bedroom, carrying what appeared to be half the refrigerator on a bowing cookie sheet. Not only had he made and delivered dinner, he’d sent Sara up to keep her company. How much more thoughtful could he be?

  He glanced between her and Sara like he was unsure what to do next. Jenna pulled the covers back so the surface would be flat and patted the bed next to her. “Put it anywhere.”

  Easy set the makeshift tray down and rubbed a hand over his head. “I tried to think of things that would be gentle on your stomach,” he said in a low voice. “But if you want something different—”

  “No, this looks perfect.” Her gaze settled on a tall glass of . . . She gasped. “You made me a milk shake?”

  At that, Sara patted her on the knee. “Okay, I’m gonna go. Let me know if you need anything?”

  “Oh, uh, Shane was making you all something to eat,” Easy said.

  Sara smiled. “Good timing. This is making me hungry,” she said, gesturing to the tray.

  Jenna grabbed up the milk shake and hugged the glass against her chest. “Get your own.”

  Holding up her hands in surrender, Sara smiled. “All yours. Besides, Nick and Jeremy have the world’s biggest sweet tooths. There’s an endless supply of ice cream downstairs. I’m not even joking. So there’s more where that came from.” She squeezed Easy’s arm. “You know where to find me if you need me,” she said.

  And then they were alone.

  Jenna was glad. Not because having Easy here warded off her panic and fear but because she just wanted to be with him.

  She fished a spoon out from between two plates and took a taste of her treat. Freaking heaven. “Oh, my God,” she said, scooping another big bite. “This is so good. I can’t believe you made me a milk shake.” Even when her father had been alive, Sara was the one who’d really taken care of Jenna. So maybe Easy’s thoughtfulness wouldn’t have been so earthshaking to someone else, but to her, it meant a lot. She peered up at him, which made her realize he was still standing. Crisscrossing her legs, she pointed at the foot of the bed. “Come sit down. Some of this has to be for you, too, right?”

  “Yeah,” Easy said. “You sure this is okay?”

  “It’s great, really. I can’t even remember the last time I ate, so this is like filet mignon and Maine lobster rolled into one. Seriously.” She exchanged the milk shake for the bowl of soup, and the warm, salty broth tasted every bit as good.

  They ate in silence for a while, then he asked, “So, what are you studying in school?”

  “International business,” Jenna said around a spoonful of soup. “I always wanted to travel.” And, to put it more plainly, she’d always wanted to get the hell out of here. Which made her break her promise to Sara—it was really hard not to feel bad about wanting to leave Sara knowing everything she’d been going through. Jenna was going to be a work in progress on that, it seemed.

  “Sounds ambitious,” Easy said. “Did you have to learn languages?”

  Jenna nodded. “I minored in Spanish, and I’ve taken some French, too. What I’d really like to learn is Chinese since there are so many new markets opening up there. But I’ve heard it’s really hard. Do you speak any other languages?”

  Wiping his mouth with a napkin, Easy nodded. “Hablo español, árabe, y Dari.”

  Grinning, Jenna reached for her bagel. She’d thought him hard to resist just being his usual sexy, thoughtful, protective self. If he was going to throw speaking to her in a foreign language into the mix, she’d be a goner. “What is Dari?”

  “One of the main languages in Afghanistan,” he said.

  “Oh. Guess that makes sense. Are Arabic and Dari hard to learn?”

  “Yeah. Where I grew up in Philly, there were a lot of Hispanic kids, so Spanish was like a second language. But coming to languages as an adult about kicked my ass. Cultural training is a big part of Special Forces training, though. We’re not out there just trying to win battles, but hearts and minds, too. So . . .” H
e frowned. “Or, we were, anyway.”

  “Sounds like you liked it,” she said, unsure why he seemed suddenly sad.

  “It was the best thing I’ve ever done.” He put down the sandwich half he’d been holding and brushed off his fingers.

  Jenna was suddenly filled with the certainty she needed to tread carefully. “So, why did you get out?”

  He tilted his head and stared at her. “Sara didn’t tell you?”

  “No. But you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

  “You’re in the middle of it now, Jenna, so you deserve to know.” He took a long drink from a bottle of water, drawing Jenna’s eyes to the way his throat worked as he swallowed, which made her remember how that very skin had felt against her lips. Soft. Warm.

  She blinked out of the memory and focused on what he’d said. She was in the middle of it? Of what?

  Easy lowered the bottle and played with the cap for a minute. “Remember how Sara said we were running an investigation?” When Jenna nodded, he continued, “Me and my guys, we were discharged from the Special Forces about a year ago. The five of us were the only survivors of an ambush, and we were blamed for the rest of the team’s deaths.”

  Jenna’s mouth dropped open, and her stomach fell in sympathy.

  “We didn’t do anything wrong,” he said with a whole lotta edge in his tone. “Turns out our commanding officer was involved in some sorta criminal activity on the side. We didn’t know about it, but after he died, someone arranged for a cover-up that hung us out to dry. Trying to get to the bottom of all that? That’s what we’re investigating.”

  Jenna dropped the last of her bagel to the tray. “I’m so sorry, Easy. About your team. About what happened to you and the other guys. All of it. That’s so unfair.”

  His lips pressed into a tight line. “Yeah.”

  “How did that lead you to Baltimore and the Church Gang, though?” she asked, thoughts whirling.

  “Some of that’s still unclear. Our commander’s kids live here, and the Churchmen came after them looking for information related to their father. Two weeks ago, Charlie went missing, and his sister Becca came and found Nick, who was our team’s second-in-command, here at Hard Ink. After we rescued Charlie, he told us he’d found a number of links between his father and the Churchmen. We’re guessing it has something to do with the heroin trade, which would paint a pretty direct line between Afghanistan and a gang like Church’s. But that’s about as much as we know. It’s a fucking mess.”