Loose and Easy (27 page)

CHAPTER
THIRTY-SIX

“Hey, baby.”

“Hey.”

“This is your idea of fun, right?”

“Not quite,” Esme admitted, feeling the mud and the rain soak into her pants where she and Johnny were huddled together under a makeshift shelter he’d lashed together out of sticks and branches in the middle of the woods. “Actually, I’m kind of a city girl at heart.”

“You don’t like playing Army Ranger?” He sounded surprised.

She shook her head. “I like playing
with
Army Rangers. I don’t like playing at
being
an Army Ranger.”

A gust of wind sent another showering of rain into their shelter, soaking her where she was already double soaked.

“Hoo-yah,” he said.

And she punched him, hard, right on the arm.

“Does this mean you don’t want to cook up our MREs and eat dinner out here?”

“Roger that, Ranger boy.”

“You look cute in camo,” he said, and she hit him again.

“I look cute in Vera Wang.
You
look cute in camo.”

“The hot tub looks nice and warm from here,” he said.

Yes, it did. Quinn and Regan Younger had offered them their home up in the mountains west of Denver, in Evergreen, for a week, while they were in Hawaii, and she and Johnny had jumped at the chance. From where he’d been teaching her survival skills, his specialty, along with a whole lot of weapons skills, demolition skills, communications skills, and even some newly acquired medical skills, they could see Quinn and Regan’s back deck, and the hot tub was definitely steaming.

“If we go back to the house, we could play doctor again,” he suggested. “Or we can stay out here and weather the storm in real Ranger fashion.”

“If I freeze to death, you’re going to have to play by yourself.” It was a warning, nothing less.

“Last one in the hot tub gets to take the other one’s clothes off.”

More rain blew into the shelter, and she started to shiver.

“You always cheat, when that’s the bet,” she said, not really minding the cold too much, not when the mountains smelled so good, so green, and the hot tub was only a hundred feet away, and not when she was in love.

Five months of flying back and forth between Seattle and Denver; trying to maintain a long-distance relationship was taking its toll. When he was gone, he was really gone, incommunicado, and he was never anyplace he could tell her about, off on some mission he couldn’t tell her about, add the distance part of the long-distance relationship, and she wasn’t sure how much longer they could keep it going. And yet, the more she was with him, the more she wanted to be with him. She wasn’t even close to getting enough of Johnny Ramos, so she’d started looking at making some changes, starting with location, location, location, starting with taking over her dad’s office. She’d talked to Robert Bainbridge, and the lease was hers, if she wanted it, if she wanted to go out on her own. Her dad didn’t need the Faber Building property anymore. After the disaster of the Bleak deal, he was finished, and so was her parents’ marriage. At least it looked that way to Esme. Some lines, once crossed, couldn’t be uncrossed.

“Okay, babe, let’s practice our fireman’s carry,” Johnny said to her, scooting out from under the branches and offering her his hand.

“What? You’re quitting?” she said, really starting to shiver now. “You wimp. I was just getting warmed up.”

She took his hand, and just by leaning down, he was able to swing her up onto his back.

“You were just starting to get really cold, sweetheart,” he said, starting down the trail to the house. “It’s hot tub time.”

“And steak. You promised me a steak.”

An hour later, soaking in a steaming hot tub with the rain turning to snow and drifting down around them under a night full of stars, Esme finally pushed her plate away.

“I’m stuffed.”

“You’re gorgeous. Come here,” he said, taking her hand and pulling her over onto his lap.

She straddled him, and his mouth came down on hers in an instantly drugging kiss.

“I love you, Esme,” he said against her lips, pulling back from the kiss just enough to speak.

“I know.” And she did. She felt his love with every call, every e-mail, every letter and gift that arrived in her mailbox. She felt it with every text message that blinked onto her phone, and she felt it every time they made love, but she wanted more.

He was already so hot and hard, and with the warm water lapping against their skin, he held her close and pushed up inside her.

“Johnny…”
She melted against him, his name feeling like a benediction, his body feeling like heaven.

He moved inside her, and she leaned back so she could see his face. He was so beautiful, his hair much longer than it had been last summer, dark and silky. She ran her fingers through it, and his eyes came open, his gaze holding hers. She loved watching the pleasure in his eyes, how every move she made on him was reflected in their depths. Sliding down on him, she leaned forward again and took his mouth with hers, her kiss so hot.

His hands moved to her hips, and he held her to him, guiding her in the rhythm of their joining.

She leaned back again, watching him. He was so hard everywhere, his body like a slab of granite to the touch. She dreamed about him at night. Every time she lay down to sleep, her thoughts drifted to this, to him being inside her, rocking into her, and some nights she thought it would drive her crazy not to have him.

“Ironheart,” she whispered, sliding her hand over the tattoo on his chest. He was the angel Nikki had painted, the dark angel, the warrior angel with the bloody knife in his hand. He never talked about his work, but Dax knew, because he’d done it, and Dax talked to her, telling her things without ever telling her too much.

This warrior code, it ran so deep, and it ran deep in her lover.

She bent over him again, taking him in another kiss as he slid in and out of her. This bond ran deep, too, this lover bond. He was such a part of her.

She had to tell him she wanted more.

He kissed her, and he teased her, and he made sweet, hot love to her, until the fire lit deep inside her, and when she came, her soft cries of pleasure in his ear, his arms locked around her, he pushed into her one last, hard, deep time, and came undone with her.

Sex in hot tubs, right, that could kill a guy, if he wasn’t careful, and yet Johnny had never seen that in any of his training manuals. Of course, other guys weren’t having sex with Easy Alex, and she was just so freaking hot. He’d never had a woman like her, and he never had her enough. Some changes needed to be made. Five months of hit-and-miss hot sex, and missing her way too damn much, just wasn’t cutting it.

He needed her close more, needed to taste her more, smell her more, be with her more. She was such a safe harbor for him, and God, sometimes he needed a safe harbor, especially when he was home.

She’d gone to Cheyenne with him last August and helped him deliver that letter, and it had been so good to have her there, good for Lori Heath. The other girl had been harder to face, Cassie McAllister. When a guy was injured so badly that he turned away from people he loved, it was a hard thing to explain, even to himself. What had happened to John Paul Cooperman, Johnny’s best friend through three tours of combat, could happen to any soldier—the debilitating injury, the deeply scarring wounds—and Johnny hadn’t had any words of solace for the young woman going it alone out on the Wyoming prairie. He’d check on her again, though, and let Cooperman know how she was doing. He’d promised.

He had managed to keep his name out of the paper, with Lieutenant Loretta’s deep understanding and help, and what he’d learned over the last five months was that no matter how long he’d lived at Steele Street and the Commerce City Garage, no matter how much he’d thought he’d known about Special Defense Force, being on the inside was far, far different than being on the outside. The missions took everything he had and then some. Hell, keeping up with Creed was damn near impossible, and the guy had years on Johnny.
Years.
He hadn’t even worked with Red Dog and Travis yet, and quite frankly, he knew he wasn’t ready. Skeeter and he made a good team, because they’d spent ten years in each other’s faces. They could almost literally communicate telepathically. Hawkins and Dylan still intimidated the hell out of him, trying to meet their standards, but the two of them hadn’t been around much since he’d come on board, so a lot of his training had been supervised by Kid, and a lot of his missions had been with C. Smith Rydell. Johnny literally loved working with the guy. Rydell was like a wall of titanium, sixteen feet long, eight feet high, twelve inches thick. It didn’t matter how you washed up against him, he was so fucking solid, the experience was always the same. Not even Hawkins had that going for him. And because it was always the same, because Rydell was more consistent than an atomic clock, Johnny learned, and everything he learned from Rydell, he learned right, and every time he did something, he did it right, and that’s what made Rydell happy, and if Rydell was happy, a guy’s chances of surviving were damn good.

But this thing with Esme, this had to change. This was fluid, and growing, and becoming so important to him. She was his, and he wanted to make those ties that bound even closer.

“Baby?”

“Hmmm,” she sighed in his ear, her warm, wet body so soft and lovely in his arms.

“I’ve got something for you,” he said, reaching behind him into one of the cargo pockets on his BDUs.

She lifted her head from his shoulder, curious as he rummaged around in the pocket until he found what he wanted.

It always looked so sappy when guys did this on some reality television show, and it always sounded so sappy when some guy was talking about doing it, and it looked sappy when some guy put his big moment up on YouTube.

But when a guy was doing it himself, it felt, and looked, and sounded so profound, so different from what a guy had imagined. For one thing, he’d never imagined he’d be proposing to a naked woman in a hot tub unless there had been quite a bit of tequila involved.

Go figure. Here he was, stone cold sober, and she was as beautifully naked as a woman could get, which in his book was pretty well summed up by the word “completely.”

He pulled the small jeweler’s box out of the pocket and showed it to her, and his mind went blank. Just like that. Completely blank.

No, he thought, no, this couldn’t be right. He’d had it all worked out. He’d sweated over it, practiced it, memorized it, just the right words. Something about…about love, and life, and forever—sure, something about all that, except better, with a part about how wonderful he thought she was, more wonderful than anything else, and a small part about kids, maybe? What had that part been like?

“Honey? You look confused,” she said, and when he shifted his attention back to her, she was grinning at him.

“I had this all planned out.” It had been so perfect. “But I can’t quite remember how it went.”

“You mean your proposal of marriage, where you tell me you can’t live without me, and we’ll work out all the logistics, because in your heart you know we’ll both be happier if we’re together, even if certain sacrifices have to be made? That part?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, grinning back at her. “That part, but there was more.”

“You mean the part about how much you love me, and that you can’t imagine finding what we have together with anyone else?”

“Yeah. That part,” he agreed, settling back against the hot tub and just enjoying the view. “You’re pretty smart, aren’t you.”

“Valedictorian of my senior class,” she admitted.

“Smart enough to say yes?” He opened the box, revealing a one-of-a-kind Nikki McKinney creation, a gold band with platinum inlaid wings and a diamond set in a swirl of sapphires.

“Too smart to say no,” she said softly, taking the ring out of the box and slipping it on her finger.

“I don’t think we should wait, no long engagement or anything like that. I think we should just get married.”

She glanced back up from the ring, a small smile on her face. “Sounds like you got that part right.”

“Yeah.” He figured he did, and he kissed her again.

She pressed herself against him, getting even closer, her mouth so hot and sweet on his, and he could instantly see where this was all going to go, with her legs straddling him, and him being so much in love with her.

“I’m glad we’re not going to be on YouTube,” he said after a while.

“Yeah, me, too.” She kissed him again, with his ring on her finger, and it was all so perfect, cold snowflakes coming down, hot steam going up, and Esme the Wonderful on top.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

TARA JANZEN
lives in Colorado with her husband, children, and two dogs, and is now at work on her next novel. Of the mind that love truly is what makes the world go ’round, she can be contacted at
www.tarajanzen.com
. Happy reading!

CAN’T GET ENOUGH OF THE
STEELE STREET GANG?

Buckle in for more hot cars
and sizzling suspense with

BREAKING
LOOSE

BY TARA JANZEN

Coming from Bantam Dell in August 2009

Read on for a sneak peek inside…

Marsh Annex, Washington, D.C.

Elegant.

The woman sitting across from General Richard “Buck” Grant in his office absolutely, positively owned the word—lock, stock, and barrel.

It was impossible for a guy to keep his eyes off her, so Buck didn’t even try. What he did do, what he always did, was try not to let his gaze drop below her chin. If she was fascinatingly beautiful from the neck up—and she was—then she was nothing but trouble with a capital T from the neck down.

Dangerous, dangerous territory
—he let the thought cross his mind with just the slightest downward glance.

Hot damn.

She did it on purpose—a hint of cleavage, the curves of her magnificent breasts always draped in some kind of soft material, her clothing perfectly fitted to a waist he knew he could nearly span with his hands. Any further than that he never went, honest to God, not unless she was walking away from him. The last thing he could afford, under any circumstances, was to get mired in the fantasy land of Suzi Toussi’s hips. She was just too damned important, his secret weapon.

“Stargate?” she said, repeating the word he’d dropped between them like a small atom bomb. “Sure, Buck. I remember Stargate, the Defense Intelligence Agency’s experiments in remote viewing, the psychic spies, the ones trying to gather intelligence using ESP.”

She, at least, could say it with a straight face. That was the great thing about Suzi, her smooth coolness. She was always gracious, always unfazed, always somewhat imperious.

Okay,
he paused and backed up to his last thought. She was always
damned
imperious. She knew the effect she had on men—which was the point, the reason Christian Hawkins had recruited her five years ago to do a piece of contract work for SDF, Buck’s unit of black-ops shadow warriors based in Denver, Colorado. She’d done good, damn good, so they’d used her again, and again, and again, until information gathering had become a sideline for her, if not exactly a full-time job.