Page 89 of Peace Under Fire

Alaska unlocked the door and sent him a four fingered wiggle-wave as she led the women into the cabin. Mandy ignored him until he followed them inside.

“We already told you—” down went her palms on her hips.

“Sorry princess,” he broke in. “The place needs to be cleared before you can sit your pretty ass down.”

A cute little furrow dented her forehead. “Cleared? Alaska has as much right to this place as Brick.”

“He means cleared of boogiemen,” Alaska chimed in. While her voice was straight, sparkles danced in her eyes. “He’s going through the cabin to make sure nobody’s hiding inside.”

The furrow disappeared from Mandy’s forehead. “He does take this whole protection detail thing seriously.”

It only took a few minutes to sweep the cabin. The place was small. Two bedrooms, two baths, a kitchen, and a living room. The women were already in the kitchen, the blender screaming, when he walked back out on the deck. If Mandy said anything to him, he didn’t hear it over the chaos engulfing the kitchen.

Once the door closed, muting most of the noise behind him, he pulled out the cell phone Tex had overnighted to the Refuge.

“Squish,” Tex said as soon as the call rang through. “How’s the good life treating you?”

“If you mean going deaf…” Squish grimaced. “It’s just hunky dory.”

“Deaf?” Tex’s voice turned serious. “Brick never mentioned this. What happened?”

“The women decided to have an afternoon of cocktails and gossip. Who knew women could raise the decibel level to DEFCON One? I think the space station can hear them.”

Tex laughed. “I’m surprised they let you join in. In my experience as a married man, women are pretty possessive over their girl time.”

“So I discovered.” Squish’s lips twisted. “I’ve been banished to the deck.”

A low chuckle traveled down the line. “Can’t say I’m surprised.” He paused, then his voice turned serious again. “If you’re calling to get an update on Mandy’s sisters, I’ll have to disappoint you. No news there.”

Squish grunted. He twisted to glare at the window as the women let loose with shrieks of laughter. Jesus Christ, he hadn’t thought they could get any louder. Shaking his head, he shifted to scan the forest edge and the path leading to Brick’s cabin. Everything sat still and silent around him.

“Hey, dude,” he settled into one of the chairs on the deck, “did you know there’s a whole mess of romance books out there with SEALs as the heroes and love interests?”

Tex offered a surprised cough. “Sure, dude, everyone knows about that. It’s a huge industry.”

Squish’s spine straightened. Everyone knew? Seriously? He hadn’t known.

And then Tex dropped the big bomb. “You should ask Mandy for recommendations and read what she suggests. Her suggestions will tell you exactly what your woman is looking for in a man.”

Jacob stiffened. “I don’t have a woman.” Although he knew exactly who Tex was referring to.

“Brother,” Tex scoffed. “I have to say, it’s damn embarrassing how hard you’re playing ostrich. Trust me, marriage is not a death sentence.”

With a jolt, Squish jackknifed to his feet. “Who said anything about marriage?” It startled him how…panicked…he felt.

Marriage? No way. Granted, if Mandy was determined to scratch a sexual itch, then he was determined to be the guy she scratched it with. But that was a physical and fleeting relationship. There was no way he was drawing her into a long-lasting commitment and swallowing her soul.

As Tex droned on about marriage and happiness and finding that special woman that would enrich his life, Squish scanned the encroaching forest again. This time he straightened, instantly alert. Some dude was walking down the path toward the cabin, and it wasn’t Brick.

“Gotta go.” He disconnected the call while Tex rambled on.

Squish walked to the top of the steps. Their visitor had closed on the cabin quickly, but without looking like he was in a hurry. The dude was tall, a little over six feet, muscular, maybe early forties. He had the hard face and flat eyes of someone who’d seen and participated in horrific situations—which marked him as some kind of special forces.

The stranger stopped at the foot of the stairs and sized Squish up as thoroughly as Squish was eyeing him.

“And you are?” Squish asked.

“Name’s Pipe.” The guy said in a crisp, British accent. “Alaska called, asked me to come over. Said someone named Mandy had an ugly bruise on her head. Asked me to check it out.”

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