Justice (Bad Boys of X-Ops Book 2) (21 page)

“Goodnight, Justice,” she said behind the closed door.

“I know how to break in there, woman!”

Her head peeked out. “But you won’t. Because of tradition.”

****

Midafternoon, the middle of August. The tide was in on the sandy white beach. I’d shaved—twice—and dressed in the new threads. My suit was wheat-white and lightweight. My tie narrow and black and tied in a perfect knot. Everything fit like a glove from the trousers—straight front, half-cuffs hanging perfectly over long overly muscled legs—to the jacket with a dovetail and shoulders stretched beneath another healthy lashing of sinews.

I put on cologne, wondered if the spicy scent was too heavy. I placed the platinum cufflinks with the Marine Corps insignia Tilly had given me our last night at home. My throat clenched at the sight of them shining there, just awaiting a ring to make me hers.

Shoes polished, wearing briefs and socks and everything I was supposed to, I dried my palms on my pants. The sun shone inside my room—a single room I couldn’t wait to see the backside of because I had the marital bed in mind. Big, kingsized, with lots of room to do a lot of naughty things to Tilly.

It was Walker who knocked on the door and materialized before I opened it. His black braid hanging to his waist, wearing a good suit that complemented mine, and a loose grin on his face, he saluted me with two fingers off his brow.

“Look at you, pretty boy.”

“Fuck you.” I threw a punch at him before one-arming him into a hug.

“Ready for this?”

“Hell no and fuck yes. That make sense?”

“Tilly’s shining brighter than the sun,” he said.

“You saw her?” Man, I was jealous.

“Jade dragged me into her room.”

“Jade made it?”

“Wouldn’t miss it. Apparently she’s a big fan of weddings. And hats.” Walker slapped me on the chest and gestured to the open door. “Fucking weird, isn’t it? Us, landing women? And Jade. Fuck. I can’t wait to put a ring on her finger. Wasn’t sure that was what she wanted.”

I stepped into the hall. “You gonna do it?”

“Have to see how bad you flame out first.” He laughed raucously.

“Asshole.” I punched him on the shoulder.

Every bit of amusement fled when we stepped outside. We walked across the grounds to the beachside, and my heart
whumped
in my chest. I tried to pick out Tilly among those gathered in loose formation for the ceremony, but of course she’d come out last.

I could not fucking wait.

The pristine white sand mirrored the foaming breakers of the Atlantic Ocean, and at the shoreline an officiant stood. Between him and me? Friends and family here to celebrate the beginning of Tilly’s and my life together.

Blaize had come. She nodded at me with a smile. She seemed to be some sort of extension to the Lawless family, but how they all fit together I didn’t yet know. Storm watched Blaize unblinkingly from a diagonal stance behind her, and a smile crept up my face. If Walker wasn’t next, maybe Storm would be. Bane stood beside . . .
Baby Spy
? Wearing black on white—black leather pants that had to be suffocating in the muggy heat, and a cuffed white shirt open at the throat—Bane looked none too happy to be chaperoning our favorite person to hate.

Baby Spy scowled all around, her eyes outlined by thick black makeup that made her blues irises lightning bright.

Christ. What was she doing here? She was on our shit list if not our potential hit list, considering the possibility she may have played a hand in leaking Walker and Jade’s location on several occasions during their crazy Majedah Chehab mission.

And blessed be the day.

Riiiiight.

Walker and I made it past our posse to the edge of the water.  

My mom was elegant as always, nodding her head and capturing my hand. My dad whispered last minute marital advice I didn’t hear above the rush of blood to my head. A group of Tilly’s friends—from her college days and SCAD—gave wide-eyed approval, and Jade sneaked a kiss to Walker’s lips in passing.

She wore an extravagant netted hat over her long magenta-black hair, and possibly a knife beneath her form-fitting dress.

As long as no blood was shed today we’d be good.

I hadn’t seen Tilly since the night before, and my heart banged away in my chest. If she did a runner, I’d go straight after her and force her to marry me. I stood beside the minister, every breath jarring in and out of my chest until a flutter of white caught my eye at the top of the dunes that rolled down to the beach.

Then the world simply stopped. My breath got lost somewhere between my lungs and my throat. My eyes glazed from staring so hard.

Tilly Lawless was going to be my wife.

Walker pounded me on the back when I forgot to breathe too long.

Not Quite Shotgun Wedding

THE GUESTS TURNED WITH an echoing “
Oooooh
” as soon as light music started playing.
Tilly appeared fully, standing at the beginning of the shell-lined aisle.

She was a statuesque vision, Venus in the flesh. She started sweeping toward me, her eyes capturing and holding my gaze. She brushed a fingertip beneath her eyes, but her smile remained absolutely radiant.

And that dress.

The gown was as deep and rich as a magnolia petal, the same flower decorating her gently upswept hair. The same blossoms held in one hand. Simple, almost Grecian, the dress had little ruffles for straps, and it clung to her curves in all the right ways. Cinched at the waist, the fabric floated down to the ground with a widening ruffle. Simple and fresh and feminine, and sexy as hell. Not to mention the surprising amount of cleavage bared as the neckline dipped between her breasts.

Lawless walked her to me as the waves crashed offshore.

As Tilly came closer, my eyes swept her from the top of her hair, to her face where red-gold tendrils clung, to her eyes, shining and shimmering green today. Her body, her legs . . . her feet.

She was barefoot!

A huge smile erupted on my face.

Lawless placed her hand in mine with a tender kiss on her cheek, leaving his only daughter in my care.

I changed my smile to a scowl and leaned back to take in her bare toes with the toenails painted a light rosy pink.

Her smile trembled briefly as I righted myself.

My eyebrows drew together and I looked down at her, whispering, “You’re barefoot.”

“You’re not.” She giggled.

Didn’t I know it? My feet pinched in the new tightly laced shoes.

Holding her hands between mine, bouquet and all, I bent forward until my lips brushed her cheek. “You are also absolutely the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
Breathtaking
.”

Her cheeks stained a pretty pink. “And you look fierce and stunningly handsome.”

Heat rose higher in her cheeks as she licked her lips, and I could read her dirty thoughts from one single glance.

With a deep booming voice, the minister managed to snag our attention. We dutifully turned away from one another to face him and the ocean that lit off sparks in pink and gold and blue and white.

The formalities began, but I hardly heard a word. My heart took up such a steady hammering it echoed the waves rolling to shore, and my focus was elsewhere.

On Tilly.

I stared at her profile. The eyelashes curled today and tinted by mascara. Her lips, slightly parted, slightly smiling, a soft coral color I couldn’t wait to kiss clean off. Her upturned nose and the freckles.

Ahhhh
, those freckles.

Discreetly as possible, I leaned back a little and tilted my head just so.
Hmmm
, a nice deep V in the back of her gown, too, surrounded by a ruffle. I could probably tuck my hand inside and caress a good bit of sun-warmed flesh.

Tilly’s eyes flashed to mine, and I straightened just in time to turn her toward me.

With the bouquet handed off, I held her hands in mine, stroking my thumbs across her skin.

“Do you, Matthew Justice Chase . . .”

“
Matthew
,” she mouthed with shining eyes.

“I, Matthew Justice Chase take Matilda Lawless . . .” My voice came out even more bass-deep than usual.

I held Tilly’s gaze, working to keep the words steady when a tear slipped down toward her chin.

I promised her my love and my life. My honor and my heart. I captured the tear on my fingertip, and swore to cherish her with body and soul until death do us part.

“And do you, Matilda”—her wrinkled nose, my shaky grin—“Dinah Lawless . . .”

That time her fingers swept over mine, because mine quaked as I listened to her sweet voice and her soft drawl.

Something turned over in my heart, made my stomach lift, brought my shoulders up and sent a swift reaction through me. Tears stung my eyes.

She promised to be wife and lover and my match in all ways. She gave me her true love and her pure heart. Her voice nearly sang through my veins when she vowed richer, poorer, sickness, health, and
always
.

Tilly touched my cheek and my jaw, smiling up at me when she murmured, “I
do.”

She did the honors first with my ring because my woman didn’t play by the old regulation rules.

Kissing the back of my hand as no woman had ever done before, she settled the wide band on my ring finger until what had always been lonely and heavy in me lifted and soared.

This was the first time I’d seen the ring—wide, titanium-black, thick—but I knew what the inscription said on the inside:
In love, and biscuits, and forever.

Mine for her said simply:
For my Tilly girl, with everything I am.

Mine and mine alone.

The rings were exchanged while hot tears pricked my eyes and several slipped from Tilly’s . . . then the kiss.

Thank God,
the kiss
.

A deep, swift, heated meeting of our parted lips. Seeking and finding until we broke apart, both breathless and grinning like crazy.

The joy was unmasked, contagious, better than any adrenaline rush. I pulled Tilly up into my arms as the minister said some last words. But I drowned him out with a whoop-holler, swinging Tilly around off her feet—
barefeet
—and nearly knocking the flower out of her hair.

Music began, pouring out from where I did not have a clue. I’d discovered Tilly was much more adept at wedding planning while I’d found out arranging all the endless details for a marriage was nothing like organizing a mission with ammo and terrorists and tangos to worry about.

This was better. Way goddamn better.

The music pumped up, and we were descended upon by a swarm of freakin’ locusts,
i.e., wedding guests
. Through hugs and congrats and backslaps and wolf whistles, I was dragged in one direction—losing Tilly’s hand—while she was hauled in another.

Where’s the joy, fuckers?

****

The reception began immediately afterward. I didn’t even get another chance to lay my lips on Tilly’s before the hours’ long party started.

See now? If
I’d
been in charge of the planning there’d be none of this schmoozing and boozing bullshit because I was way too impatient to get into the mingling thing.

I wanted to be alone with Tilly.

Private. Intimate.

Very, very alone.

She and I met up in the middle of the party on the beach only to be towed away from each other again. We were monopolized by people who meant well, but who had no idea I hadn’t had sex with her for forty-eight hours and I was more than ready to exercise my marital rights. Right there on the beach if I had to.

I gritted my teeth into some semblance of a smile whenever my attention was forced away from Tilly. I nodded politely, digging my hands into my pockets. I tried to tune into the questions I was asked, standing taller to search the crowd for my woman. I only relaxed when I saw her, and she’d glance at me with the same longing described on her delicate face that glowed brighter than the sunset bathing the oceanside resort. The only real smile I had was reserved for her.

My wife
.

Couldn’t believe it.

Then
there were my parents to visit with, Ambassador Lawless to parlay with at least for a few minutes, and my team who seemed to have no problem partying it up. I thanked Blaize for coming, hoping for bonus points, and left her to chat with the ’rents.

They only knew I worked in a highly classified military role for the government. Blaize definitely wouldn’t mention anything she wasn’t supposed to—she was a fucking vault where T-Zone was concerned. And the dudes understood what it was like to keep this big a secret, so I didn’t have to worry about them. I had to assume Baby Spy wasn’t stupid enough to mention crap to anyone, but she wasn’t much for socializing anyway. She just looked pissed off and sullen.

I couldn’t figure out why Bane was constantly hovering around her, though. Questions better left unasked, I reckoned. I had a honeymoon to fantasize about—one that should’ve started goddamn hours ago—and I didn’t want to get embroiled in any T-Zone bureaucratic bullshit . . .

I shrugged. Not my problem. This was my wedding day.

Meanwhile, Storm held up one corner of the seafront pavilion. His dark blue gaze arrested on Blaize no matter where she moved through the crowd. He held a glass of amber alcohol, but he drank absently from it.

Which reminded me I’d never found out why Blaize had wanted to talk to him alone that day in DC. Bearing that in mind, I generated enough interest to engage Walker in a little T-Z gossip.

“You drunk yet, Mr. Been-Ball-and-Chained?” he asked when I strode up.

“Sober as a fucking monk.”

“Fucking monk.” He laughed. “Oxymoron.”

“I ain’t a moron.”

“You went to prep school, don’t tell me ya don’t know what that means.”

“I’m just messing with you.” I knuckled him on the forehead, hoping he wouldn’t retaliate with a blade. It was my wedding day after all. “But you’re an idiot, you know that?”

“Sure, sure. Whatever.” He grabbed two glasses of champagne, handed me one, pinged them together, and said, “Congrats, Jus.”

“Thanks.” I downed the bubbly liquid in one swallow.

“Happy?”

“Will be. As soon as everyone clears the fuck out.”

“Impatient?”

“Understatement.” Just then I heard Tilly’s laugh, and my head swung around as if locked on a target.

Her head was thrown back, and the laugh warbled again. Of all the damn things, she was talking to Bane and giggling at something he’d said.

I frowned. “What do you think he said to her?”

“Probably something about the pitiful size of your dick.”

“She already knows about that.”

“How small it is?” Walker chuckled.

I punched his arm. “Don’t be a douche. She knows how
big
it is.” I refrained—
barely
—from cupping my crotch to demonstrate.

Marriage day and manners and all that.

“Listen,” Walker lowered his voice conspiratorially. “I got some boom-boom flash-bang. Want I should blow something up? Create a diversion? Scatter the wedding guests?”

I stroked my chin. “Tempting.” I scanned the people who were just gearing up for dancing and more food and drinks and who knew what else. “But maybe let’s not break out the weaponry tonight.”

“Just trying to be a good best man.”

“You’re a screw fucking loose in the head. But you’re the best.”

He hugged me with a one-armed reach while chugging the rest of his champagne. “Thanks.”

Twisted motherfucker
.

I set my empty glass beside his. “Hey, what was it Blaize wanted with Storm that day?”

“New mission.”

“Just him?” I asked.

“Him
and
her.”

“She’s going out in the field?”

“Yup.” He laughed long and loud. “And you can bet your Heckler he’s gonna have the biggest case of blue balls in known history by the time it’s all over.”

We were interrupted by calls for the bouquet toss.

Tilly turned up with a sweep of that naughty-innocent gown. She hurried over, tucked a hand behind my neck, and tugged me down for a kiss.

Wild sensation ricocheted through me.

Before I could drag her closer, she danced away.

“She’s gonna be the death of me tonight if we don’t get this reception over with soon.” I groaned.

Jade slid up beside Walker and drew him into a kiss that left him cross-eyed. When she had him panting and all grabby-hands, she slipped from his embrace.

“Get back here,” he demanded.

“When have you ever known me to follow orders?” Her swanky British accent at odds with her sleek Asian looks and her wildly streaked hair.

“The other night, at the ranch,” Walker shot back with a challenging grin.

Jade’s face glowed, but she didn’t hustle back to Walker’s side. “Can’t stay. That bouquet is mine.”

She only stopped long enough to remove her fancy hat and sail it toward Walker before she joined the eager-to-marry fray.

“I suddenly know what you mean about Tilly being the death of you,” Walker grumbled, shifting his weight in a very obvious manner.

“Women,” I muttered.

“Women.” He agreed.

We watched the foreign sight shaping up in front of us—both of us wearing frowns on our faces. A multitude of brightly colored chicks gathered in loose lines behind Tilly who stood facing away. She held the bouquet up in the air. Bright stars had begun to burst forth in the dark sky above, shining and shimmering just like my woman who was my sole center of attention.