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“Mercedes.” A man in a high-dollar, perfectly-tailored, black suit stepped into the office. He was tall, built, with longish blond hair and piercing blue eyes. A Thor wannabe. The guy had missed his era; he would’ve been a Viking warrior for certain.He didn’t even glance at Cash, though Cash was certain he knew exactly where Cash was standing, how he was standing, the level of training he had in sparring and shooting, and the fact that he was carrying a 1911 and two knives.
This had to be Shawn. Cash was relieved to actually see her security, though the guy should’ve swept his office and removed his weapons before allowing Cash to speak with her.
There was something about the Viking Cash didn’t like. Maybe because he was another alpha male, definitely retired military. Cash instantly wanted to prove he was tougher than this bodyguard or whatever the man was to Mercedes. Not that he was interested in Mercedes romantically, but he felt protective and responsible for her and he was used to proving he was the top dog. He’d thought he was past all those ego plays, had put that life behind him … most of the time.
“Two minutes,” the man continued, focused on Mercedes.
“Okay, Shawn. Thanks for being my everything.” She winked at him.
The man’s face transformed as he smiled at her, and she responded by flirtatiously trailing her tongue along her bottom lip. These two were obviously involved, and Cash felt like an interloper watching their exchange.
The blond Viking glanced at Cash. His smile disappeared, and a look of distaste and challenge filled his gaze. Cash folded his arms across his chest and tilted his chin up in invitation.
“I’ll be right out,” Mercedes said. “Give us one more moment, please.”
Shawn was surprisingly obedient. He nodded to Mercedes and strutted back out the door, taking up a more visible position where he could keep an eye on Cash, it seemed.
“I don’t have much time left and neither do you,” Mercedes reminded him again. “And I’m not talking about the two minutes until I need to leave for lunch with Governor Roberts.” Shearched a perfectly sculpted and painted-on eyebrow. “So what’s it going to be, Captain Trapper? Are you going to make a huge difference in this world before you leave it, or be satisfied with what you’ve been able to do through sheer grit, building gym equipment in your garage, and cleaning out your own savings account?” She gestured around at the bare-bones gym outside his office door.
Cash studied her. This was an insane opportunity for him, his gyms, and six other vets. Men he could hand pick for the opportunity. Men who would most likely turn it down just like he wanted to.
How could he turn this down? He loathed the idea of being on a reality television show and could only guess that most of the men he’d suggest to Mercedes would feel the same. Could he convince them to be Mercedes Belle’s dancing monkeys if he couldn’t convince himself? Those who had known Grayson would be easier to convince.
Ticking time bomb.
He and Mercedes were two soldiers watching the timer count down on their personal nuclear bombs.
Cash didn’t like her ‘Shawn,’ but he did respect Mercedes and he owed a debt to her, her father, and Grayson. He was impressed that she was trying to make a difference before she died, and honestly, she seemed to be dealing with her death sentence better than he had. He’d simply pushed it away, ignored it, and worked harder. The only concessions he’d made were the doctor’s appointments, taking the pills, and being ultra-strict with his diet.
Could he drop his pride completely and go on some reality show?
Was it worth spending one of his last weeks on it?
What else did he have to do besides build gym equipment, beg businesses to donate to his cause, work out untold hoursevery day, befriend and cheer up wounded vets who sometimes felt they had nothing left to live for, watch out for some at-risk youth who trusted him, and crash in his apartment alone every night?
It would at least be something different, something to look forward to, a way to leave a mark.
At the same time, he could only imagine scores of friends and former team members chortling when they watched him on a reality television show hosted by Mercedes Belle. Nobody knew about his diagnosis, and he would never tell anyone about hers.
Some of his buddies had made fun of the SEALs who’d taken part in theSurvive the Romanceshows, but Axel Dexter, a renowned Army Ranger, hosting it had given the show a lot more clout. Though dedicating it to Grayson would help, an ultra-wealthy ‘influencer’ blonde bombshell host wouldn’t have the same effect. He’d really have to drop his pride.
Cash dropped his pride every time he picked up a phone, sent an email, or walked into an appointment where he asked for money. This opportunity would change all of that.
But it would be hard to hold his head up in the gym after the show aired.
Luckily, he probably wouldn’t live much past the television debut.
He smiled at that thought and nodded decisively at Mercedes. “What do you need me to do?”
She rushed him and kissed his cheek. Cash could’ve stopped her, but he felt a kinship to her, so he forced himself not to flinch or shove her away. He wasn’t opposed to women, but he rarely spent much time around them. With no family left, a kiss on the cheek was an unexpected occurrence. He catalogued it as a slap on the back from a fellow Green Beret. Grayson’s huge grin after a successful op came to mind, and his sister’s smile was similar.
“This is going to be so epic! Thank you, thank you!”
“Mercedes.” Shawn’s voice was a low growl.
She released Cash. He stepped back, folding his arms across his chest and giving the bodyguard a challenging stare.
The man’s eyes narrowed, and his hand went to the Hellcat on his hip.
