Page 69 of Too Guarded to Love

Nic watched Olivia sleep from the doorway. He’d hoped to be headed out by now to apprehend Natalie Durham, but they hadn’t had any luck finding her. Instead, he’d come from a long-ass brief about a reconnaissance mission in Europe. All systems were go for a sunrise departure.

He should climb into the single bed next to Olivia’s and grab some much-needed rest. Instead, he stared at the rise and fall of her breasts. She wasn’t wearing a bra and her nipples poked against the thin cotton of her tank top in delicious invitation. The view settled something in him after learning about Natalie and Arrow’s Revenge.

Could the girl he’d sent to juvie really be behind so many deaths? If she was, that meant his actions had started this shitstorm. He feared there would be more consequences once they connected all the players in this deadly game.

Tugging off his boots, he placed them by the door and stepped farther into the room. Smiling, he leaned against the desk where he’d had his first sample of Olivia. She’d tasted like dark temptation and pure lust. The heady combination had burst on his tongue like smooth moonshine—addictive and dangerous, yet he couldn’t stop himself from wanting more even if he’d pay the price the next day.

She moaned and opened her eyes. “What time is it?”

“Around ten.” He perched on the edge of the narrow bed and brushed a curl from her cheek. Her scent calmed the beast that needed to find Natalie. Female or not, she’d get what she deserved if she had anything to do with hurting Olivia or the other women he loved.

Wait. He didn’t love Olivia. He cared about her because she was Kane’s sister. Liked her wit and strength. Kept finding reasons to respect her, even if his growing feelings made his neck buzz like he was about to walk into a mercenary camp.

“Go back to sleep.” He turned to leave.

She gripped his arm. “Where are you going?”

“To rest. We deploy in the morning and won’t be back for a couple of days.”

She shifted to her knees. Concern etched her brow as the sheet slipped. His gaze tracked its descent down to the expanse of toned, delectable skin between the hem of her silky blue tank top and…

Fuck, she wasn’t wearing anything over her matching panties.

Olivia snapped her fingers. “Eyes up here, Captain Casanova.”

He licked the corner of his tilted lips. “I like my eyes just where they are, thank you very much.”

She leaned forward and swatted his chest. “Does where you’re going have to do with Arrow’s Revenge and Natalie what’s her name?”

“No, it’s an entirely separate matter, but I wish we were headed out to apprehend her.”

Olivia trailed a finger down his cheek. He’d showered and shaved, and her touch felt like silk on his skin, soothing the ache from Linc’s punch earlier.

“Natalie’s the reason you stopped playing baseball, isn’t she?”

“It was just a game.” He shrugged. “I didn’t like it that much anyway.”

“Bullshit.” She sank onto her ass and crossed her legs in front of him. “I heard the sadness and the joy in your voice when you talked about being the catcher. I figured you’d stopped playing because you'd hurt yourself, but you didn’t.” She entwined her fingers with his and brought them to her lips. “You stopped because of what she did.”

Even though only a night-light lit the room, he couldn’t miss the understanding in her eyes. Nobody had ever seen through the fences he’d built around himself, but she’d looked beyond each post he’d staked deep around his heart.

She placed her hands on his chest. “I’m so sorry you were kicked off the team because of her. You didn’t deserve that.”

The sympathy in her voice snapped his control over the years of resentment he’d managed to keep in check. “I wasn’t kicked off. And I didn’t always love baseball. I was good, and there were advantages if I played well, like invites to weekend clinics, so I didn’t have to be home while my mom and her boyfriend got high. And when I didn’t perform up to par and my mother didn’t get compliments about her talented son, there were consequences.”

The horror in Olivia’s beautiful face mirrored the harsh reality of his youth. Yeah, he knew plenty of kids in the system who had been worse off than him, but once he’d gone to West Point and learned the true meaning of support and respect and family and friendship, the injustices he’d endured cut deeper.

Olivia shifted her hands to her lap and held his gaze. With a nod, she granted him permission to let what had been simmering to boil over.

Curling his fingers into his palms, he stacked his fists like he held a bat. He could feel the cool aluminum in his grip. Feel the weight. Feel the anticipation of success and the fear of failure.

“If I got on base…” He swung the imaginary bat. “I got pizza after the game. If not, I got hunger pains. If I struck out, I got a whole other kind of pain I had to hide so nobody questioned the bruises. My mom couldn’t snag the rich coach if I wasn’t on the team.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, well, they say baseball teaches life lessons. I learned that if I went willingly when the state took me from my mother each time she was arrested, I was placed in a decent situation. If I sucked up to the staff, I got more food. Good grades assured I could play baseball and avoid bad shit like drugs and gangs.”

Olivia stood and stepped up to him. Tears welled in her eyes. He didn’t want her sympathy, but fuck if he didn’t feel it in places he shouldn’t.