Jason (Kings of Guardian #4) (4 page)

“Momma, I wanna spray.”

Faith Collins smiled at her son’s demand. It was silenced by sudden shrieks of laughter as Tippy barked and then shook vigorously, sending soap and water everywhere.

Laughing so hard her sides hurt, Faith tried to hold onto a wet dog and the garden hose and keep her son, Reece, from falling face first into the slippery plastic wading pool they were using as a makeshift bathtub.

“Once we get him all soapy, I promise you can spray him, baby, but we need to hurry. I don’t think he wants to play in the bathtub anymore.” The dog shook again and attempted to climb out of the blue plastic pool. He sent the little boy onto his butt in a huge puddle of muddy dog water.

“Tiiipppyyy! You got my new ‘piderman swimsuit dirty!” The little boy held up his hands, his eyes huge as dinner platters.

Faith tried, but she couldn’t stop her laughter. Both she and her son were soaking wet, smelled like dog, and were probably dirtier than the darn animal. “Honey, we can… we can… run through the sprinkler to clean it off, okay? Here, stand up next to me. Hold onto Tippy’s collar and help Momma get him soapy.”

Wrestling to hang on to the energetic dog with one hand, she squatted down behind Reece. She surrounded him with her legs and arms and formed a backstop to keep him from falling into the mud again. They managed to soap up the small black-and-white dog as he licked at their faces with happy abandon.

“Alright, we’re going to spray him off now. Hold the handle with me and then I will give the hose to you and you can make sure Momma did it right, okay?”

“’Kay, Momma.” The dog’s thick fur made it nearly impossible to get the soap out and, in short order, Reece lost interest, as she knew he would. He turned in her arms and looked over her shoulder.

“Momma, does Superman live by us?” Reece’s questions were a constant. Without missing a beat, she answered, “I don’t think he lives in Savannah. Why? Do you want to grow up to be big and strong like Superman?”

Reece patted her chest with his small hand. Tippy lunged toward the side of the pool, his usually patient personality gone in a split second. Faith braced, catching her lurching dog, and pulled him back into the pool. She was almost done, and darned if Tippy jumping out before she wrapped a beach towel around him was happening.

Reece put his little hands on her face and cupped her cheeks, forcing her to look at him. “Do you know Superman, Momma?” Faith held onto the dog, which suddenly started acting like it was possessed, lunging toward the edge of the plastic pool barking.
Damn tree squirrels. They were always tormenting poor Tippy.

Faith flipped her wet hair out of her eyes. Taking a firmer grip on the spray nozzle, she hit the hindquarters of the dog with the stream and struggled to remember her son’s question.

“Uhhh… Superman? I don’t think so, baby. I know a lot of people, but I don’t think Superman is one of them. Why?”

Reece pointed behind her. His arm lifted up as he whispered almost in awe, “Superman is behind you, Momma.”

“Superman’s behind me? Is he wearing a red cape? Do you think he flew here from Metropolis, or maybe he is with the Justice League and Wonder Woman flew him down in her invisible jet?”

“Actually, I drove here in a rented Escalade and I own my own jet,” a deep bass voice directly behind her replied.

Faith jerked into a standing position and whipped around. The garden hose in her hand followed, drenching the man, now standing directly in front of her.

“Oh shit! Sorry! Oh God, I’m so sorry!” Faith pulled the hose away and fumbled with the nozzle, finally getting the thing to turn off. Slowly she looked toward the man she had drowned in a torrent of water. His light gray silk suit was utterly ruined. The thin, wet material clung deliciously to his massive, sculpted body. At five-foot-eleven-inches tall, Faith was by no means a small woman, but this man
towered
over her. A lock of his black hair curled over his forehead, just like Superman’s. His eyes were clenched shut, but when he opened them, his vivid green gaze seemed to sear right through her. He carefully took off his glasses and held them away from his wet body. Water dripped from his hair and off his nose. His free hand swept the remaining water off his face. He didn’t sweep away the look of utter disbelief.

“You are Faith Collins?”

“Yeah, I am. Who are you?”

The man whipped his hand back, sending droplets of water through the air.

“My name is Jason King. You really do know how to make a first impression. I’m not saying it was favorable, but I’m sure this is a meeting I’ll never forget.”

“Momma, you said a bad word!” Reece patted her leg to get her attention.

“Yes, pumpkin, I sure did.” What impressed her, though, was the man in front of her hadn’t.

Reece wrapped around Faith’s legs and pointed toward the massive man. “See Momma. Told’ja. Superman!”

Morbid embarrassment slammed her, tightening her gut to the point of pain. “I’m so sorry, sir, but why are you here? I mean in my back yard?”

The gorgeous man slid the silk jacket off and draped it over his arm in front him.
Oh. My. God.
The sleeves of his shirt molded to the man’s huge biceps. The clothes he wore probably cost more than the mortgage on her trailer for the year, but Faith would have to admit they put a very sexy frame on the man.

He looked at the water on his glasses. With economy of motion, he folded them and put them in his jacket pocket as it lay draped over his forearm. “I knocked on the front door. I heard you back here laughing. I work at Guardian. Your late brother, Theo, and I were deployed together…” The man glanced at Reece, who was still hugging her leg. “I have some documentation I need you to look over. I’d like to ask you some questions.”

Faith let a slow smile spread across her face. His dark, gravel-roughened voice would make James Earl Jones jealous. Of course, the man had to be from Guardian. It seemed they had one type. The men Faith had met, friends of Theo’s, were cut from the same cloth. Just like the one in front of her. Although Jason King was a much bigger version than the men Theo trained with.

“I usually let Scott Barnes handle all of the paperwork that Guardian sends down. Should I call him?”

“You can if you’d like. I’m assuming he is your lawyer?”

“No, he was from Guardian.”

“Then he was assigned to you as a Casualty Officer.”

“I guess. He showed up right after the chaplain and his associate left.”

“Momma?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Do you think Superman likes us?” His stage whisper was almost a shout.

She glanced at Mr. King. He’d frozen in the act of loosening the knot in his tie. From the shocked expression on his face, he looked at a loss for words. Almost as if it mattered to him what her baby thought of him. The guy honestly seemed decent. Massive, but decent.

“Baby, I’m sure he likes us. He probably just didn’t enjoy Momma getting him all wet. Why don’t you and Tippy go to Auntie Helena’s? Stay in the grass and keep out of the dirt and mud, please. I’ll stand right here and watch you.”

She kept an eye on her son as he went through the small gate in the fence and over to her best friend’s trailer. Tippy danced by his side the entire way. Helena answered Reece’s knock and expertly kept his wet BFF out of her home. Helena made eye contact with Faith. Faith gave her a thumbs-up and turned back to the very wet man in her back yard.

She ran her hands over her face, pulling her cheeks down as she blew out a puff of air. “I have to pay for your dry cleaning. Oh heck, who am I kidding, that suit is ruined
.
It has to be handmade, too, there is no way you could fit anything off the rack.”

His size, both height and, good God in heaven, those muscles, would prevent that. Faith pulled her bottom lip into her mouth and worried it as she tried to come up with a way to make amends to Superman.

Superman, no, it was… Mr. King, that’s right, she chuckled. She walked with him back toward her trailer. Faith looked down the front of her shirt and reached up to brush at dirt stains from the dog’s bath. “Oh, shit.”

Her exclamation brought the man’s eyes to her. His quick up-and-down told her he’d either already noticed the wet, clinging t-shirt and no bra, or he wasn’t interested. Was it bad of her for wanting it to be the former and not the latter?

She crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head. “Listen, Mr. King, how about we meet when we are both dry? I’m not sure why you’re here or for how long, but could we do this later? I’ll get a sitter for Reece so we can discuss whatever it is that you want to talk about.”

He raked a hand through his hair. The action released more dark curls. The effect? Breathtaking. Realizing where her mind was taking her, she glanced toward Helena’s trailer again. The woman had taken up residence on her small wooden porch and she and Reece were rubbing Tippy with a towel. Their peals of laughter put a soft smile on her lips.

“I’d like that. No matter how hot it is in Savannah, standing in wet clothes isn’t the most ideal when discussing business.” He lifted the jacket and fished around the inside breast pocket. He pulled out a pen and business card. He jotted a number across the back in dark bold strokes.

“My cell number. When you are ready to speak with me, please call. I’ll be in town until then.”

Faith watched Mr. King walk toward a silver SUV and leave before she headed across her yard to her friend’s porch.

“Who was the mountain?” Helena nodded toward the street where the SUV had been parked.

Reece looked up at the women. “He wasn’t a mountain, Auntie Helena. He’s Superman.”

Faith laughed at Reece’s comment. “Actually, his name is Mr. King and he used to work with Uncle Theo.”

“When Uncle Theo was an army man?”

“Yes, baby. Hey, why don’t you and Tippy go play on the jungle gym for a little bit? I’ll come down in a minute and push you on the swing.”

“Okay, Momma. ‘Mon, Tippy.” Faith watched her son go back into their yard and clamber on top of the small jungle gym her brother had made for him before his last mission. The one he never came back from.

“So…” Faith glanced at her friend, who was staring at her like she had grown three heads, two of which had warts.

“He’s with Guardian, the organization Theo worked for before he died. Said he had some questions for me and some documentation for me to look over, but I’m not sure that’s what he wanted to talk about. He implied he was with Theo when he died.”

“Wow. Okay, well that’s good.”

Faith’s skin crawled. Thoughts of Theo whispered across her consciousness. He’d pulled her out of hell. She owed it to his memory to keep those dark, ghostly shadows at arm’s length. Her father, and his addiction to that damn motorcycle club, skirted the edges of her sanity.

She pulled herself from those thoughts. “Yeah. Anyway, can you babysit tomorrow? I need to find out what he needs or wants from me, and I would like to do that when I’m not wearing a wet t-shirt.” Faith felt her face heat at the thought of that gorgeous man seeing her dog-washed wet. Oh well, that was water under the bridge now, wasn’t it? Not as if a guy like him would ever be interested in a recycled piece of motorcycle club trash.

“Sure. I have the early shift tomorrow at the diner. I’ll be home by two. Cal will be home all day if you need him to watch Boo.”

“No, he’s at daycare tomorrow while I work. I’ll be home about 5:30. I can get him fed and ready for bed and over here by 7:00. Would that be okay? I don’t think the meeting will last longer than a couple hours… if that.”

“Honey, take your time. Make that guy buy you dinner, and at a good place, too. He looked like he could afford it.” Helena walked her to the edge of the small porch.

Faith knew the man could probably afford a whole lobster dinner, but she’d never take advantage of a person that way. Having been used for the majority of her life, there was no way in hell she’d knowingly benefit from another. That was a vow both she and Theo had made.

“Freedom Aerospace, this is Faith. How may I direct your call?” The words flowed automatically. Faith’s job at the huge aircraft company had started in the distribution office. After a year, she’d applied for, and received, a lateral transfer to office automation. On a fluke she’d filled in for one of the receptionists and the supervisor was so impressed he’d petitioned for her move to his section. She’d been working as the lead receptionist for the last year.

“Miss Faith Collins, please.”

Faith stopped her typing. “This is Faith Collins.”

“Ma’am, this is Mindy at Reece’s daycare. I was instructed to call you. It seems Reece has developed a slight fever and is throwing up. The flu is making the rounds. I’m afraid you’ll need to come get him. He can return with a doctor’s note once the symptoms have passed.”

“Alright. I’ll be there in…” Faith glanced at the digital readout on her console. “…twenty-five minutes, depending on traffic.”

She disconnected the call and immediately hit her supervisor’s direct line.

“Maxwell.”

“Max, it’s Faith. Reece is sick. I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask for the rest of today and I might need a few more days, too. The daycare thinks it might be the flu.”

“Damn. That flu has been nasty this year. Give me a couple minutes to button up down here and I’ll be up to relieve you.”

“Thank you so much. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, honey. The last time you asked for a day it was to attend your brother’s funeral. I’ll be up shortly.”

Max’s portly frame waddled across the foyer about five minutes later. He’d donned his suit jacket. Faith assumed he’d bought it more than a few years ago. The dark tan jacket pulled horribly against the bulk of Max’s meaty arms and back. Although it had three buttons, the thread wouldn’t withstand the stretch needed to close the material over his well-rounded belly.

“Thank you so much, Max. I’m sorry.”

Max’s big hazel eyes held hers with a soft, warm comfort. “Go. Take care of your baby. I’ll cover until Monday. If you need more time than that, give me a call. You covered for me when Rudy died.”

Faith’s eyes watered at the mention of Max’s partner. The company hadn’t recognized same-sex marriages at the time, and when Rudy passed suddenly from a heart attack, Max didn’t get the bereavement leave everyone else would be entitled to. Faith worked extra hours and clocked in as Max so he could make ends meet. If she’d been discovered, she’d have lost her job. But she’d promised herself she’d always do the right thing, no matter the cost. With her past, it was either change or become one of them. She wouldn’t let that happen, not while she could still breathe.

“Love you, Max.”

“I love you too, hon. Call me and let me know how Boo is doing.”

“I will, and I’ll be back as soon as he’s able to go back to daycare.”

“I know, hon.”

Faith grabbed her purse and headed out of the building. Reece’s daycare was just over I-95, about five miles, but the lunchtime traffic in the Savannah satellite city of Pooler, Georgia, was insane. She headed for her car at a jog. Her baby needed her.

***

Faith pulled into her driveway an hour later. She carefully extracted Reece from his car seat and lifted him. He was getting so big. Tall and big-boned for a four-year-old. Her genes. She couldn’t say about his father. She didn’t know which of the men that had taken their turn with her had gotten her pregnant. Regardless, she’d make damn sure her boy would grow into a formidable man.

“I don’t feel good, Momma.”

“I know, baby.”

The unmistakable sound of a motorcycle engine revving made her jump and spin. She clenched Reece tightly against her and scanned the area. There was no movement in the little community that she could see. But the sound of the motorcycle engine fading into the distance did little to calm her terrified nerves.

Reece tucked his head and coughed against her neck. Dear Lord in heaven, she did not need to be freaking out now. She cast a glance to her left and breathed a sigh at seeing Cal’s patrol vehicle parked next door. The man was a cop in Pooler. The affluent city was building at a tremendous rate, but they still didn’t pay well enough for Cal and Helena to live within the city limits. Thankfully, Cal was permitted to keep his residence in the outskirts of Garden City next door to Faith and Reece.

Faith took a calming breath and let herself into her doublewide trailer. She quieted Tippy, who automatically turned into a whirlwind of energy when anyone entered the front door.

She got her baby into some clean Hulk pajamas and gave him some children’s Tylenol for his fever. Apple juice and graham crackers on the Captain America TV tray sat at the ready in case he could stomach anything. Faith made him comfortable on the big sectional in the front room and turned on the cartoon channel.

She peeked out the blinds, checking for movement down the street. The motorcycle had definitely been a Harley. The deep, throaty growl of the engine was unmistakable. She’d grown up around the bikes. She knew the sound.

She paced nervously for a couple minutes before she sat down and pulled Reece onto her lap. He snuggled close and closed his eyes. Faith ran her hand through his dark brown hair. There was nothing she wouldn’t do to protect her baby from that life. She cast a glance down the hall to the closet that held their suitcases. Theo had bolted a safe to the floor of the closet and put in a fake wall so it wouldn’t be noticed. Every penny she’d ever saved and the gun her brother had taught her to use was in that safe. No, those sadistic bastards would never get their hands on her or Reece.

Faith leaned back and let the cushions surround them. Tippy jumped up onto the couch and lay down beside Faith, laying his head on Reece’s leg. She patted the dog’s head and closed her eyes, chastising herself for overreacting.

A soft knock on the door woke Faith. She glanced down at her sleeping son and blinked, trying to push sleep from her consciousness. Carefully, she shifted and laid Reece onto the couch before she crossed the room and peeked out the blinds. Helena stood on the porch and was lifting her hand to knock again. Faith opened the door and put her finger over her lips.

“Shh… Reece is sick.”

“Oh. That explains why you’re home so early.” Helena returned the hushed whisper.

“Yeah. Come in.”

Faith shut the door behind her and they moved into the kitchen so they could talk. “What’s wrong with Boo?”

“The daycare thinks it’s the flu. He’s got a low-grade fever and he threw up at the center. Max is covering for me for the rest of the week.”

“He didn’t give you any problems about that, did he?” Helena went to the refrigerator and pulled out the ever-available pitcher of sweet tea. She lifted it and nodded toward Faith. Faith retrieved two glasses and watched Helena pour the southern staple.

“No, he is such a beautiful person. I’m off until Monday.”

“You going to put off Superman?”

Faith lifted the glass halfway to her lips and froze. She’d forgotten about Mr. King. Damn. No, she wasn’t going to go out tonight. Not with Reece sick and not after hearing that damn motorcycle.

“I’ll call him and explain. He said he’d be in town until we spoke. I hate to make him spend another night in a hotel, but hopefully he’ll understand.”

“If he doesn’t, you can tell him to hit the road.” Helena was a no-nonsense kind of woman. That’s why they got along so well.

“I have his card.” Faith went to the refrigerator and moved a magnet, freeing the thick card stock. She flipped it over and pulled out her cell phone.

“Don’t forget to block your number.” Helena sat at the island countertop that served as Faith’s dining table.

“I always do.” Faith hit *67 and dialed Mr. King’s number.

The phone rang three times before he answered it. “Good afternoon, Ms. Collins.”

Faith cut her surprised glance to Helena. “I blocked my number, how did you know it was me?”

“As I told you, I work for Guardian Security. We have all the cool gadgets.”

“Oh.” What do you say to something like that? Faith shook her head and got back on topic. “Anyway, I’m afraid I won’t be able to meet with you. Reece is sick and…”

“Have you taken him to a doctor? Do you have everything you need? Do you need assistance?” The man’s questions stopped her commentary.

“Ah, no. I mean, yes. I mean, no, I haven’t taken him to the doctor. We think he has the flu that has been going around. I gave him some Tylenol and he’s sleeping. I don’t feel right leaving him with a babysitter.”

“Completely understandable. I’ll pick up some dinner and be at your house in say… three hours?”

“You don’t have to do that. We could just wait until he’s feeling better.”

“True, but you still need to eat. I don’t know anyone in Savannah and I’d rather not spend the evening alone in a hotel. Why don’t we compromise, and you allow me to do what I want.”

“How is that a compromise? I mean if you get what you want?” Faith couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face. The man was charming. And that voice? She shivered a little every time she heard it. Maybe Superman was her kryptonite. The thought made her blush. She felt the heat in her cheeks.

“Hmmm… I’ll explain that over dinner. Any allergies? Barbecue?”

“None, and barbecue sounds fantastic.”

“Good. I’ll be there shortly.”

“Alright. Goodbye.”

“Bye.”

Faith pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and smiled.

“Oh shit, girl. He’s got you hot and bothered, doesn’t he?” Helena teased.

“Maybe. Is that so wrong? I mean did you
see
him?”

“I would have to be blind not to. You going to have a little ‘mommy time’?” Helena’s eyebrows rose at the question.

“With a sick baby in the house? No, that won’t happen. But it kinda feels nice to flirt.”

“Just don’t get hurt.”

“
Flirting
, Helena. Nothing is going to happen.”

“Uh huh.”

“Really.”

“Right.”

Faith laughed and cupped her hand over her mouth. Flirting and dinner with Superman. Her crappy day just got a little better.

***

Jason put the phone down, realizing he had a smile on his face. He shouldn’t. He was here for a reason. The need to get this meeting over was the impetus for forcing his presence on her tonight. The friendly banter back and forth shouldn’t be happening, but damned if he could help himself.

He walked through the suite’s living area into the hall where he’d deposited his waterlogged suit for hotel management to collect. He cast a quick glance at the ruined material again and shook his head. The woman totaled a $5,000 suit in fifteen seconds flat. That had to be a record. He strode into the master suite and stalked around the king sized bed, through the small seating area and past the walk-in closet into the master bath. The opulence of Savannah’s finest hotel didn’t even register.

Jason cranked the shower, hoping the steam would successfully silence his raging headache. He put his glasses on the counter and stripped out of the clothes he’d been working in. Thank God he’d finished his video conference with the Guardian’s legal department. The new bill in Congress probably wasn’t going to pass, but Jason didn’t want Guardian to be unprepared in case the improbable actually happened. The limitations Congress wanted to drape around the already complex legality of wiretaps, digital eavesdropping, and cyber intelligence was probably the biggest threat to operations within the organization. Jason had just set plans in motion to remove the majority of Guardian’s connection to those capabilities and move the management of them to offshore interests. Because Gabriel owned the offshore businesses, Jason could control them and still legally operate within the law. Guardian would be able to gather intelligence without fear of identification or reprisal from some political lackey.

The constant lack of sleep and the stress of coming to Savannah, coupled with the dynamics of swimming against the tidal wave of information and responsibilities Gabriel sent his way damn near every minute of the day, wore on him. He felt like he’d been drinking from a fire hose. Or rather, being attacked by one. That thought earned a bark of laughter.

Jason shook his head as a very vivid picture of his introduction to Faith Collins popped into his mind. That woman was definitely a knock-out—a full uppercut to the jaw, sit-you-on-your-ass-and-make-you-see-stars type of a knockout. Her thick dark hair had fallen from the messy knot at the top of her head. Huge brown eyes, high cheekbones—and that mouth! Fuck, her rose-colored lips when she offered that confused apologetic smile—decadent.

Jason stepped into the travertine-lined shower and adjusted the temperature. His hand gripped his semi-hard cock. Yeah, she was beautiful, and that face was only the beginning. What he saw under her very wet, white t-shirt made his mouth water and his cock ache. And
that
was the reason he agreed to meet another time. Clinging, wet trousers and a raging hard-on did not mix when there was a kid in the vicinity. But
daaamn
he couldn’t help recalling the way her shirt molded to her body and exposed her tightly puckered nipples, dark perky tops to the luscious full breasts. Wet cotton covered her tight stomach. Low on her hips, the tiniest pair of jean shorts he’d ever seen sat on an incredible ass. Bending over that kiddy pool… the cheeks of her tight butt—damn if he hadn’t been springing wood before she’d turned around. Her long, tanned, sexy legs completed a trifecta of the things that made him lose his shit. Face, body and legs. And she had delicious soft curves. Lord knew his tastes ran toward real women. Strong and healthy. Not the skeleton-thin, anorexic type of woman flooding the world. Yeah, Faith Collins could be trouble.