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Chapter One: Sailor
Leaning back in my chair, I suck on a lollipop and think about Maddox. I don’t want to be picturing his golden-green eyes. Or wondering if his military-short, cropped brown hair is as soft as it looks. And, trust me, I don’t want to see the tantalizing stretch of his t-shirt across his muscled chest the moment I close my eyes. Or feel the little flutters that start swooping around– completely against my will– in my lower belly any time he enters the room and his stupid cedarwood smell with a hint of cherry tobacco teases my nose.
It annoys me.He annoys me.Stupid Kane Maddox, the bane of my existence. So big and tall and built like a freaking Mack truck. Sitting up straighter, I suck hard on the cherry-flavored sweet, bite down and crack it off the stick.
We would never work out. Not in a million, trillion, bazillion years. Not that I’d ever want to have a relationship with the man. He’s a giant brute who grunts the majority of the time and we’re complete opposites in every sense of the word. He’s a carnivore while I’m a vegetarian. He swears like a sailor while I refrain from vulgar obscenities. He guzzles beer on a daily basis while I enjoy the occasional white wine spritzer. And he’s Navy, I’m Army.
The differences are endless.
I sigh and crunch the lollipop, gaze drifting over to the small candy bowl on the edge of my desk. Maddox is always stocking it for me, even though I’ve never asked him to. Somehow, he’s even figured out my favorite flavors so he only puts those in the bowl. I’m not sure what he does with the yucky lemon and orange ones. He probably saves them for himself.See, complete opposites.
Fallon and Eden say it’s a sweet gesture, but I’m not entirely convinced. I’m sure he has ulterior motives.Don’t all men?I have trust issues with the opposite sex that I can easily trace back to my absentee father. After knocking my mom up, he was pretty much all set. He took off not long after, and she told me he never even wanted to meet me. It’s not the nicest thing to hear growing up, but my mom always keeps it real and I can appreciate that. Luckily, we have a good relationship and would do anything for each other.
Not having a father figure didn’t stop me from playing with the boys. I’m a strange hybrid who has always enjoyed extremes. Growing up, one day I’d be brushing my doll’s hair and the next I’d be wrestling in the mud with the neighborhood kid. I refused to be put in someone else’s box because of how I looked, or what was– or wasn’t– between my legs. And I had a stubborn streak 10 miles long.
Growing up in a single-parent household, my mom and I always struggled to make ends meet. I started working when I was fourteen, making pizzas at a local chain restaurant. By sixteen, I was delivering pizzas and by eighteen, I was promoted to night manager. After graduating high school, I continued to work the low-paying, dead-end job for almost another year. Some people would say I had staying power. It was less that and more like I wasn’t a quitter, and I did what I had to do. Trust me, I was highly unsatisfied, my options were limited and I didn’t have enough money for college.
And it sucked. So I made a decision that changed my life forever– I traded my pizza dough for MREs.
If you think about it, it’s no surprise that I wound up joining the military. When I set my mind on something, I give it my all and go in 100 percent. I saw the Army as my way out, so I gave them everything I had. Army life proved to be very interesting and, in many ways, rewarding.
The Army is only 14.4 percent female, and while that may have been daunting to some recruits with ovaries, I loved it. It was full of grit and challenge, and my training was on par with the training the male officers received. It made me feel like my efforts were seen as comparable, without the typical “girl” judgment or lowered expectations. I wasn’t “little Sailor,” I was just another recruit, just one of the guys.
Training alongside the men was a plus for me. I’ve always gotten along especially well with men. Maybe because I’m a bubbly, happy person by nature. Or maybe they just like my blonde hair and the fact that I’m barely 5’1” with a very bodacious, size C rack.
Honestly, it doesn’t bother me. I don’t care what people base their initial impressions of me on. When people underestimate me because of my size, hair color, or sparkly personality, I use it to my advantage. And in my line of work here at Slater Security, it has proven quite useful on several occasions.
My nickname is Deadly for a reason. And it’s not because of my lethally perfect ta-ta’s.
I separated from the Army two years ago after the continuous relocations far away from family and friends got to be too difficult. Luckily, I met Fallon, also former military, and she connected me to Dash.
Fallon and I meeting was pure kismet. We were standing at the counter at West Coast Survival, and I was buying bullets for my Glock while she was debating between two different knives. I recommended the Spyderco Yojimbo 2 because it’s lighter, comes to an aggressive point and is ideal for stabbing strikes. She agreed and we ended up talking and bonding instantly.
It isn’t every day you meet another woman who understands the importance of having a good tactical knife in your toy box. From that point, I knew we’d be friends forever.
Fallon told Dash about me and that I needed a job so, instead of starting school, hello GI Bill, I decided to try working at Slater Security. Best decision I ever made. These people have become my family, and I don’t know what I would do without our dysfunctional little circle of badasses.
I reach for another sucker, pull the wrapper off, and lick the watermelon-flavored sweetness. My Maddox daydreams kick into overdrive and, as my tongue swirls, I imagine him standing in front of me wearing his typical t-shirt and cargo pants.
No one wears cargo pants quite like Maddox,I think, smirking around the sucker. His thighs are the size of tree trunks, knotted with clearly-defined muscles beneath the cotton material. So, of course, I can’t help but wonder what other impressive attributes are hidden from my curious eyes.
Blushing, I grab one of my pigtails and twist it. Lately, my thoughts have been turning more dirty when it comes to the big, former Navy SEAL. I hate to admit it, but he’s starting to have this strange effect on me. As in, making me all hot and bothered whenever he’s around. The problem is, we work together. And we can’t cross that line.
Because the moment you do, things inevitably get awkward. Idated a guy I worked with at the pizza place and when we broke up, everything changed. I dreaded going into work because I was forced to not only see him, but also deal with him, and it was miserable. I’ve always said an ex is an ex for a reason.
If things didn’t work out with Maddox and me– and the chances are pretty flipping good we’d implode after a month– then everything would turn into a huge mess and that would have repercussions on the people I love most in this world. I’d never want to put my girls and Dash in a position where they felt they had to choose sides between people they care about.
There’s no denying he drives me crazy. If we were locked up together for any significant amount of time, we’d end up killing each other. No doubt about it.
As if his ears are burning, Maddox pops his head in my doorway.
Speak of the devil.
My gaze drops to his thick, hard thighs straining against his cargo pants.Mmm, yep. They always look so good.
“Dash wants to see us,” he grumbles in that deep, gravelly voice of his.
Pulling my reluctant gaze back up, I push up from my chair and walk toward him. He waits for me so we can walk down to the conference room together and, as I sashay past him, I twirl the sucker in my mouth, trying to ignore how small I feel whenever he’s near.
