Chapter Twenty-Nine

Smacked up against Billy, Angela’s head rested on his shoulder and one arm draped across his chest. A tuft of hair tickled his nose. But the more important matter at hand was the leg she’d flung over his thigh. With her foot tucked under his good leg, her knee rested dangerously close to the family jewels.

Together they had agreed when the best time of the month to conceive came around, she would pack a small bag and come spend a few days at his house. Under the same roof, they could have sex often enough to increase the odds of conception. He’d also realized that for a few moments before discussing his plan, she’d worried he had changed his mind about helping her conceive. That this happened after they’d slept together made him damn unhappy. No one had ever questioned his honor before. And that the possibility he would use her to get his rocks off had even occurred to her at all really bothered him. A lot.

The decision made about staying at his house, she had awkwardly climbed out of bed, dragging the sheet with her to the bathroom. The careful movement told him he needed to do more to reassure her. Once he made a promise, a commitment, he could be counted on to stand by his word. Duty was second nature to breathing for men like him. There was one small problem. This wasn’t about promises and duty anymore.

Softly, careful not to wake her, he brushed the stray strands of her silky hair away from his face, briefly letting his fingers linger. He’d never cared for the clingy type. Sex had been designed for mutual gratification. Lovey-dovey morning afters were for other people. Not him. Not even in the few sporadic short-term relationships he’d enjoyed over the last decade had he truly enjoyed languishing in the snuggle stages of afterglow. But how he felt now, he would gladly hold Angela this way for as long as she was willing. Everything about her felt right. Even the knee.

Waiting for her to reappear from the bathroom last night, he had turned on the TV to one of his sisters’ favorite chick flicks. Pretty Woman. Fully dressed, Angela had sat down beside him to watch, and by the time Richard Gere faced his fears and climbed the fire escape to win the hand of the fair Julia Roberts, Angela had fallen fast asleep.

Right now he wanted her more than he’d thought possible. Not the warmth of any female body. But Angela. And not just the sex. Like this. Sharing. Comforting. Looking forward to making babies. Teaching children. Everything Joe had and lost. Everything Billy no longer deserved. Damn. What had he gotten himself into?

* * *

Billy’s phone sounded off. He vaguely remembered taking it out of his pocket at some point and setting it on the nightstand. Opening one eye, he crashed into the full morning light. Crap. What time was it? Somehow during the night, he and Angela must have done a gymnastic performance. She now lay by the edge of the bed, and he was in the middle, spooned around her. Lifting his head to look over her shoulder, he spotted the seven o’clock hour and bit back a curse.

“Angel.” He brushed her hair away from her face and kissed her cheek. “Angel.”

Angela purred like a contented kitten and burrowed her backside into Billy. Just what he didn’t need. He eased away before he succumbed to the urge to roll her underneath him and bury himself inside her until she screamed for more. Damn.

Crawling off the bottom of the bed, he moved to the night table and stood over her. “Sleepyhead. Time to wake up.”

She mumbled a groggy, “Mm-hm” but made no effort to move.

Squatting, he balanced against the bed and leaned in for a good-morning kiss. When her arms snaked around his neck, tugging him forward, he knew he finally had her attention. “Good morning,” he whispered against her lips.

She blinked at him once, twice, and then a her cheeks bloomed a rosy red. “Oh, dear. Is it morning?”

“Seven o’clock.” Billy pushed off the bed and made his way to the bathroom. When he came back out, Angela sat on the bed awake, adorable, and waiting for him. “It’s all yours. I’m going to check my phone.”

She nodded and walked into the bathroom.

Hitting the button for return missed call, Billy waited for someone to pick up.

“Okay, we’ve landed,” Doug Hamilton announced. “Where do you want us to go, Chief?”

“One of you needs to relieve Jim. The others meet at the shop.”

“Any more news on who’s behind this?”

“None.” And now that he had called in four of the best special forces guys to ever serve in the Unites States Navy, he had to wonder if he’d lost his mind. In the time Magnolia Maplewood and the Deluca kids had been in Kona, nothing had happened. Not a hint of anything suspicious. He and Nick could have handled an easy security detail like this. “I’ll meet you in fifteen.”

“Roger. Fifteen.”

“What’s the plan?” Angela stood behind him, hair neatly in place, her cheeks still tinted pale pink. Her hands clasped in front of her, her fingers twisted nervously.

The urge to pull her into his arms and reassure her all would be fine overwhelmed him. Fisting his hands at his side, willing them to remain still, took the same effort as learning to tread water with his hands tied behind his back. “Some more friends have flown in from Oahu. I need to be at the shop in fifteen minutes.”

Her fingers stilled. “Your old team?” He nodded.

“What about Adam and the boats?”

Shit. He’d forgotten. He’d told Adam he could tag along to the marina first thing this morning to look for a new boat. Wanting to do something to help the kid get over his aversion to the water and anything to do with diving like his dad, Billy thought getting the boy on any boat would be a good start. Even though Billy would have preferred Nick pick out the larger replacement for the smaller Island Girl dive boat, Billy agreed to go if it might help Adam.

What he hadn’t counted on was learning that someone wanted Tom Deluca dead or that Billy and his former teammates would be gathering this morning at the shop to plan keeping Adam and his sister from suffering the same fate.

Raking fingers through his hair, his hand fell to rest at the back of his neck as though it were the only thing keeping his head on his shoulders. “I’ll call Magnolia. Tell her I’ll be picking Adam up later instead of her dropping him off. I don’t want him at the shop when we’re talking about what happened to his father.”

“Good plan. Little boys can have really big ears.” Her eyes lit with humor. God, she was beautiful when she smiled. “I’d better get going. You have a busy day planned, and I’m not really needed.”

Not needed. Then why did he want to stop her from walking out of his room and beg her to come with them? Especially knowing that setting foot on a new boat, even one in dry dock, was going to challenge the crap out of him, and having her there would make everything…better.

Angela’s smile remained in place, though the light in her eyes dimmed. With a nod she turned to leave the room, and like a besotted puppy, he couldn’t do anything but follow.

When she hefted her purse over her shoulder and stood by the front door, he nearly bit his tongue to stop from inviting her to stay. To share breakfast, share conversation, share boat shopping, share everything. Shit. He definitely needed her. Too much.

* * *

Angela slid the key into the ignition, heard the engine roar to life, and without a look back pulled away from the curb. When she reached the corner, her bravado gone, she slumped over the steering wheel and drew in a long, deep breath.

Lifting her head, she gazed out at the community before her. Filled with larger homes, this was a strong family neighborhood. The sort of place a young family stepped up to after a few years in a starter home and a second or third child on the way. Billy was probably one of the few single people on the block.

A horn tooted softly behind her. With an apologetic wave, she turned right, toward the main road. The street ahead dropped downward, revealing a breathtaking view of the ocean. Billy had this view from his house. His room. When she’d been sitting on the bed waiting for him, she’d looked out the picture window. Two thoughts tumbled over each other: how wonderful it would be to awake every day with that view, and if this were her room she’d turn the bed so she could lie in bed and see out the window without turning sideways.

Except she had no right to be turning furniture and no business longing to awaken in Billy’s bed every day. She had a killer view of her own. And that was going to have to be enough. Turning at the bottom of the hill, she tossed a quick glance up toward Billy’s house. This had nothing to do with houses, views, or beds. She liked falling asleep and waking up in his arms. She liked the rumble of his voice last thing at night and first thing in the morning.

A picture of last night filled her thoughts. Not of them alone in his house, but of his hand on her shoulder, and then, slowly, sliding onto hers. Offering his strength for the news he saw coming. How could she not fall a little in love with a man like that? Oh hell, who was she kidding—how could she not fall a lot in love with a man like that?

* * *

“Chief.” Doug Hamilton slapped Billy on the arm.

“Glad you called.” Billy nodded.

“Hey, Chief.” Two more voices echoed as the others moved up close. Everyone was all smiles.

Except him. He bobbed his head, having a hard time looking these guys in the eye. Especially Doug. Making his way across the compound to help rescue Billy, a secondary explosion had triggered, sending fragments into his chick-magnet-handsome face. Over time the small scars had faded, but time couldn’t do a damn thing to restore the vision in Doug’s one eye.

Nick walked in the door, and Billy made quick introductions. By the time Nick had made the rounds, Jim pulled into the drive. Within minutes the five men were gathered behind closed doors around the two desks in Billy and Nick’s office.

“How sure are you of the info?” Jim asked.

“As sure as I can be,” Billy answered. “Luke Chapman is on it.” 

Jim looked to Doug, who nodded. “I’ve worked with Brooklyn. Heard he’s got an A-class operation going now.”

Nick added, “He did some work for me a little over a year ago. Can’t imagine anyone better.”

“If he’s okay in your book, then that’s enough for me,” Jim agreed.

“What I have no idea about is who is behind this or if the kids are in any danger. Odds are, if they’ve not bothered them for the last few weeks, there’s no danger.”

“But…” Jim added.

“Exactly. Someone could just be biding their time, and until we know what everything is all about, I’d feel better having proper surveillance.”

“I’ve often wondered how the Secret Service felt, stuck with brat duty.” Doug smiled.

“Now you’ll know.” Jim slapped him on the back.

Billy filled them in on everything Brooklyn had sent him on Tom Deluca’s company and family, then gave them a copy of the actual accident report.

Jim blew out a whistle. “This was not a scare tactic. This plane was meant to go down in unsalvageable pieces. You say his wife survived?” Billy nodded.

“Damn.” Jim tossed the report back on the desk. “He’d have made a great jet jock.”

Lexie knocked lightly and popped her head in the door. “Excuse me.”

“Come on in,” Billy called.

“This was just delivered.” She handed Billy a small box. “It’s from Brooklyn Security.”

Cutting open the tape with a key from his pocket, he popped the box open. All eyes in the room glanced at each other before focusing on the box.

Billy pulled out a cell phone.

“Secure?” Jim asked.

“Probably.”

Village People’s “In The Navy” sounded, and

Billy pressed the buttons setting the ringing phone to speaker.

“Finally,” Brooklyn’s voice bellowed.

“Hey, it’s not my fault you live on the east coast.”

“I’ve got confirmation. It seems three years ago Mr. Deluca took on one Damien Ziegler in his employ. Mr. Ziegler and Mr. Deluca were acquainted in prison.”

All eyes in the room remained fixed on the phone.

“Deluca’s been known to give an ex-con or two a chance. Ziegler’s rap was mostly small-time dealing. Finally got his act clean and came to Deluca. Late last year Ziegler put together a sweet transaction with a new development company. All cash. Global Assets.”

Nick glanced at Billy. “I didn’t think big business did cash anymore.”

“They don’t. Dig deep enough and the man behind the strings is Cristobal Restrepo.”

“Oh shit,” Jim mumbled.

Billy looked up.

“Yeah,” Brooklyn affirmed. “Drug cartels in Mexico are looking for new and shiny ways to launder their money. Ziegler was found dead in an alley almost four months ago. Looks like they tried to muscle in on more of Tom’s operation. His way of getting out from under them was to take Deluca Land and Development public.”

Jim leaned forward. “And Mr. Restrepo’s organization didn’t want that.”

“Apparently not.”

Doug reached for the file. “How was killing Deluca supposed to help their cause?”

“If both Tom and his wife had been killed, probate would have derailed the public offering. Guardians and executors aren’t known for being anywhere near as stubborn as men like Tom Deluca.”

“What happens now?” Billy asked.

“According to Annette Deluca, she’s going through with Tom’s plans to go public to save the business from the sorts of Restrepo. She’s one tough lady. And smart. She could have sent her kids to her mother in Ohio. Instead she sent them to you two. All you have to do is keep those kids safe a few more days and this will all be behind them.”

“How’s that?” Lexie asked.

“Once the initial public offering is done, there will be no turning back, and the company will be of no interest to Restrepo. Men like him want sole proprietors they can control. I’m sending you some pictures of known henchmen in Restrepo’s organization.”

Everyone in the room nodded. “And Billy?” Brooklyn added. “Yeah?”

“Stay safe.”