Page 3 of Lone Star Target

She sighed, shook her head, and in a gesture he knew all too well, she raked her fingers over the side of the long auburn hair, tucking it behind her ear. Kit probably would have responded to his snapped question, but Ruby did before she could.

“No, it’s not a joke,” his boss said. “Kit has requested the services of a Maverick Ops’ bodyguard, and she specifically wants you.”

Jace nearly laughed. Nearly. Then, he locked gazes with Kit to see if her expression would give anything away to let him know what the hell was going on.

It did.

She wasn’t gloating. Wasn’t savoring his obvious discomfort or confusion. There was something in her green eyes he’d never seen before.

Fear.

Until this moment, Jace hadn’t thought anyone or anything could cause Kit to be afraid, so this was a first. Then again, she was here at Maverick Ops’ headquarters asking for a bodyguard.

And not any old bodyguard either.

But him.

Why?

Jace was certain he would soon learn that. Certain, too, that he wasn’t going to care much for the answer.

“So, how do you two know each other?” Jericho asked, breaking the tense silence that had settled like an icy fog in the room.

Kit cleared her throat. “Jace and I were once married. I’m his ex.”

That caused some surprise to flash on Jericho’s face. “Married? That wasn’t in your record when you applied to Maverick Ops,” he was quick to point out.

“Because the marriage was annulled,” Jace supplied. “A lifetime ago,” he tacked onto that.

Kit nodded, and Jace thought her mouth went a little tight. But it was true. It’d been nearly two decades ago, and during that time, Kit and he had both gone their separate ways.

Well, mostly.

He mentally sighed when he remembered running into her about five years later, and they’d landed in bed for ex-sex. It’d happened two more times. Again, years apart. And each hookup ending the same way.

With Kit running away.

Not literally.

But she sure as hell hadn’t issued any invitations for them to have a second chance. Just the opposite. She’d left his bed—or hers, depending on where they’d ended up—and gone straight home to Daddy.

Daddy, AKA Ramsey Barclay, who ruled his daughter with an iron hand. And Kit let him do it. All the while ignoring that Daddy was a slimeball criminal who’d managed to skirt the law because of his deep pockets and equally deep connections to VIP slimeballs.

Kit had helped the law skirting, too.

By becoming one of Ramsey’s own personal attorneys.

With that reminder, Jace decided that he’d done some running, too, after the ex-sex. While the sex itself had been damn amazing, he hadn’t ever thought he could stomach turning a blind eye to Ramsey the way Kit had.

So, no second chances suited him just fine.

“Jace and I were nineteen,” Kit continued with her explanation to Jericho, “and the marriage was, uh, impulsive.”

For some reason that riled Jace. Then again, just about anything she said was going to do that. Still, impulsive wasn’t the word that he’d use since Kit and he had dated, secretly, for nearly a year before heading to a Justice of the Peace for that short-lived I do.

Short-lived because Ramsey had stepped in and exerted his will over Kit. The annulment had gone through, and Ramsey probably hoped his pretty princess of a daughter never crossed paths with the likes of scum like Jace.

There was another round of silence, and Ruby was the one to break it this time. “Why don’t we sit and Kit can explain why she’s here?” She motioned for them to follow her to that sitting area that had clearly been designed to meet with guests and clients.

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