Jason (Kings of Guardian #4) Page 5

  Jason relaxed under the pulse of the shower head. His mind swirled against currents of memories and new information. Eventually the white noise of the falling water and heat did its job and his mind cleared. As water wrapped his body in warmth, he turned his thoughts back to that woman. Under no circumstances could he jerk off to her image again. Hell, who was he kidding? The visualization didn’t mean anything. He was stressed, tired and on an unintentional celibate streak that would rival most priests. So he had a fantasy. He’d deal with it and she’d never know.

  Chapter Seven

  Jason King stood at her door with a large wicker basket in one hand and an open, friendly smile spread across his face. And just like that, Faith lost the ability to breathe. His t-shirt stretched across his skin so tightly the fabric could have been mistaken for skin if it weren’t the exact same jade green as his eyes. His faded blue jeans clung to his muscled thighs and lay low on his hips, pointing her eyes to a very impressive package. Faith, literally, was unable to move as he walked past her into the house. He turned toward the kitchen and placed the basket on the island. As if under a spell, she took in the beauty of the man as he worked. Several large scars ran down his arms. One vicious-looking scar across his throat drew her attention up… way up, toward his handsome face. She swallowed. Twice.

  Oh, for God’s sake! Say something! “Hi. Ahh… I really wanted to apologize again for ruining your suit yesterday. I know it won’t make up for it, but maybe I could pay for it or buy you a new one?” Lord, what an explosion of drivel. She should’ve kept her mouth shut.

  Jason nodded, gave her a quick glance and continued to unload what smelled like barbecue heaven from the basket but didn’t say anything. Oh shoot, that wasn’t good, was it? She offered a small smile. “I’ll get plates and silverware.” Faith tried to keep her attention on the task at hand, but she couldn’t help notice the perfect V of his muscled shoulders and back narrowing down to his waist, which led to the nicest ass she’d seen in… well, God… forever.

  Jason turned and looked at her, his eyebrow raised as if he’d asked her a question. She blinked rapidly, “What? I mean, excuse me?”

  A sexy smile split his face and Faith decided she liked it. A lot. “I said not to worry about the suit and then I asked where your son was.” At least he had the courtesy not to laugh outright at her as he leaned on the laminate-covered kitchen island.

  “Oh, I fed him earlier. He’s in my room coloring and watching a show.”

  “So he’s feeling better?”

  “Seems to be. Still a little warm and sleepy.”

  Jason held a liter of soda in his hand, one that he’d taken out of the basket. He opened the bottle and sat it down on the counter.

  Faith cleared her throat and tried to apologize again as she pulled out a couple of glasses for the drinks. “Listen, I’m so sorry about everything.”

  “Please, you don’t need to apologize. I startled you. It was actually my fault.”

  She watched him reach for a plastic tumbler she’d filled with ice. The muscles in his biceps bunched when he moved, stretching the thin cotton of his shirt. The seams at the bottom of those short sleeves screamed for relief. Looking at him from the side, Faith swallowed—hard. Oh Lordy. I hope the drool doesn’t show. His strong jaw and high cheekbone taunted her with their masculine perfection. And… well, now she felt like a sexually frustrated old woman and, if humanly possible, even more embarrassed.

  He waited to speak until he’d finished pouring their drinks. “I propose we forget it happened. How about we rewind and start over. Hi, my name is Jason King, and I’d like to talk to you about your brother.”

  Relief and happiness competed for top honors in the party that was happening in her head. Lord have mercy, the Prince Charming bandwagon was coming down the street and it was going to stop for her to get on. “Oh, well. Okay.” Faith felt the heat pooling in her cheeks. She quickly turned and reached toward the place settings as she spoke, “I… Hi… I’m Faith…”

  Her hand swiped past the liter bottle and knocked it off the counter, sending it to the floor along with a huge tumbler of ice and soda. The plastic bottle bounced twice, spraying its contents against the old white cabinets, covering everything with caramel-colored syrup water. The cup rolled across the floor, flooding the linoleum with fizzing liquid.

  Oh, the fizz died quickly enough, but Faith didn’t.

  No, she died slowly from the mind-numbing horror that masked itself as unbelievable embarrassment.

  Her eyes slowly lifted to his, and that’s when she noticed the soda had soaked his jeans from the knees down. “Oh, God. I’m so sorry.”

  Faith plucked the roll of paper towels off the dispenser and dropped to her knees ripping sheets off, soaking the soda off the floor.

  She saw him bend over to help.

  God no, he didn’t need to clean up her mess!

  She made a grab for the nearly empty plastic soda bottle he was moving to pick up.

  “No, please, let me!” She lurched forward just as he bent down. The back of her head collided with his nose.

  Faith grabbed the back of her head and looked up. Tears of pain from the impact fogged her vision. He stood with his head tilted back, hand over his nose. Blood dripped through the fingers of his cupped hand, down his forearm.

  “Oh my God!” Faith unwound several paper towels and handed them to him. “Here. Hold this over your nose. Come here. Sit down on this stool. Did I break you? I mean it? Did it break? I mean your nose?”

  Jason managed to give her a leery look out of one eye before he slowly shook his head no.

  “Oh, thank you, sweet baby Jesus. Look, you sit there and get that bleeding to stop. I’ll get this cleaned up.” Jason nodded while peering at her like she was an ax murderer. “Okay, just stay right there, alright?”

  “Believe me, I’m not moving.” His response was muffled through layers of blood-stained paper towels.

  She retrieved the mop and bucket and cleaned the floor and cabinets within minutes. Finally, she threw away the last paper towel and walked to the man sitting at the counter. Taking a deep breath she reached toward the wad of bloodied mess in his hand.

  He flinched.

  And didn’t that make her feel like crap? Whatever princess fairytale she’d concocted in her mind flew the coop about the same time she brained him with the back of her head.

  “I promise, no more dousing and no more broken noses. Let me get you cleaned up.”

  He lifted the impromptu bandage from his nose, forestalling her approach with a comment. “I’ve got it. Besides, I think it stopped. I’ve always bled hard when I get busted in the nose.”

  “Yeah, about that…”

  “No worries. The Three Stooges couldn’t have scripted it better. But I will force you to make it up to me.” He stood and walked over to the trash basket, dropping the mess into it.

  “I’d love to. Unfortunately, I have no idea how to make up what I’ve put you through yesterday and today.” Tears welled in her eyes. She’d never been so humiliated.

  He chuckled as he bent over the sink and washed his face and hands. He motioned toward the food at the table. “Warm that up and eat dinner with me. We’ll call it even.”

  That, she could do.

  “It’s still hot, or it should be.”

  She grabbed a dry place setting and put it across the table from his.

  He waved toward the seat. “Please, sit. You’re less dangerous that way.”

  Faith watched him pull another liter of soda from the basket. He’d come prepared. She’d never acted so… messed up, maybe? She’d developed the ability to gauge people as a survival technique. Why, then, was she so at ends when talking with the superhero across the table from her? All he needed was a red cape and really tight blue…

  Her eyes drifted up the man and froze at the expression on his face. Oh, mercy… he’d asked her a question again, hadn’t he? How could he lift one eyebrow like that? God, that was so
hot. He cocked his head at her and she blinked. Oh, dear, lightning bugs in a bottle—what had he asked? She cleared her throat and managed to squeak out, “Excuse me?” The heat that quickly spread across her cheeks had to be visible.

  “I asked if you wanted anything to drink with dinner. I brought soda and lemonade.”

  “Lemonade, please.” He poured her drink before he sat down.

  Faith served their dinner without poking out his eye or maiming him. That was a relief. She could do this. She could sit next to the smoldering volcano of simmering sex without killing him. Maybe. The shiver that traveled through her body had nothing to do with the pleasant spicy scent he wore. Nope. Nothing like that. Oh, who in the world was she kidding? He was everything her adolescent dreams of a white knight had ever conjured up and she’d managed to soak him—twice—and almost break his nose. All within twenty-four hours. Was it a world’s record for driving a man away? Great, she could just imagine the interview, Guinness World Record holder, Faith Collins, now that you’ve scared that magnificent specimen of man away in record time, what are you going to do next? Oh, that’s easy! I’m going to Disney La…

  “This is delicious.”

  Faith blinked back from her wayward thoughts. What did he say? Think… oh, food. Yeah. “Yes, it is. Thank you for bringing it. So do you know how long you’ll be in the local area?”

  “Right now I couldn’t say. My guess would only be a wag.”

  “A what?”

  “Sorry. W.A.G. is a military acronym for ‘wild ass guess’.” He lifted his soda to his lips, hiding the smile that had formed.

  “Military? You served?” Oh, could he get any better? Him in a uniform. Have mercy, he would be so hot in camouflage.

  “I was a pilot in the Air Force. I flew F15s.” The comment was thrown over his shoulder as he took his glass to the counter for a refill. Definite soda addiction. But—Oh. My. God. A fighter pilot? Him in one of those military green flight suits. His ass in one of those military green flight suits! “Ahh… Wow, that must have been an incredible job. Why did you stop?”

  He chuckled and the deep rumble reverberated deep inside her, the sound almost a thrumming, like a low bass chord that echoes through a song.

  “I had difficulties during a training flight and had to eject from my aircraft. The ejection seat saved my life, but the force of the explosion under the seat compressed my spine and I was medically boarded.”

  He said that like she should know what it meant. “What exactly does medically boarded mean?”

  “My medical records went in front of a panel of physicians and administrators. They examined the damage and made a determination that it was in the best interest of the military to retire me, medically.”

  “But you’re perfect!”

  Faith blushed at the quick glance he gave her and blurted, “I mean your muscles.” Shit! “I mean, look at you?” Really? “How could someone say you weren’t physically fit?” Could she be any more pathetic? Nope. The top of the peak had been reached.

  He gave a wry smile and shrugged as if he hadn’t witnessed her muffed attempt to hold an ordinary conversation. “I wasn’t doing very well back then. I’d gone through two surgeries and at the time I was addicted to painkillers. Not that I was willing to admit it to the review board or myself. They put me out, and I spiraled out of control pretty quick. If it weren’t for… well, suffice to say, someone called me on my problem and helped to get me straight. So, from there I took the LSAT, went to law school, worked for a couple years with Guardian before I left for private practice. I just recently went back to the company.” He lifted his soda and toasted her.

  “What did you do when you worked with Theo?” The man had done so much. Faith was in awe of the scope of his life. It was as large as he was. All she’d ever done was survive her father and keep Reece safe. But that was mostly Theo’s doing. Yet here she sat, next to a military pilot and lawyer. Rather humbling.

  “I was the CEO of Guardian Security’s Dom Ops.”

  Faith snorted into her lemonade and coughed with absolutely no dignity as the liquid invaded her lungs.

  When she was finally able to breathe, she squeaked out her question, “Dom Ops?”

  “Domestic Operations. Why? What did you think I meant?”

  For once tonight she kept her mouth shut. Dom Ops? What the heck do you think I thought? Duh… Fifty-shades-of-oh-my-God, yes, please, even though I don’t know if I’d like it, but with you I’d try anything!

  “I, ahh… didn’t have a clue.” No way would she admit to the visual flashes of her in restraints and him in tight leather pants.

  Faith could see the laughter he was suppressing. She’d bet the man knew exactly where her mind had gone. Heat spread across her face again. Would she ever get on a level footing around him? Probably not. Faith dropped her eyes and focused on spreading her beans across her plate. “So do you still do that? Domestic Operations?”

  The smile on his face slowly slid away as he shook his head. “No, actually, I’m contemplating taking over as CEO.”

  “Like of the whole company? That’s pretty epic, isn’t it?” Faith took a large bite of her brisket and closed her eyes, giving in to a small hum of delight when the flavor burst onto her tongue. When she opened her eyes, the expression on his face went straight to her woman parts. The atmosphere between them arced with sexual tension. The desire in his eyes told her he wanted her as much as she wanted him. Faith lowered her eyes to his lips and then lifted her gaze back to his eyes.

  He wiped his hands and leaned back in the chair. The sudden stern look on his face stilled the surging current she thought was mutual moments ago.

  “Before we go any farther, you need to know I was the reason your brother died.”

  Chapter Eight

  Faith usually had a good grasp on reality. With what she’d been through in life, she made damn sure she didn’t get caught by surprise. But this? She looked away from the man across from her. Of all the things she’d thought he’d say, that wasn’t one she’d have guessed in a million years. She got people, understood motives better than most, and could read aggression and malice a mile away. After living with it for the first sixteen years of her life, her radar picked up the smallest indications of cruelty and she steered a wide berth around those particular types of assholes. Jason King did not send up any warning flags. What he’d just claimed and what she’d seen of him, how he’d treated her when she’d brained him… soaked him. He definitely wasn’t a violent man.

  Drawing a deep breath, she turned back to him. She needed a moment without the overpowering man in front of her. “I’m going to go check on Reece. When I come back, you are going to explain what you mean by that.”

  Faith rose from the table, the delicious food completely forgotten. She clicked on a lamp in the front room on her way through. Since Jason had arrived, it had gotten dark. Reece was asleep on her bed. His fever was still low grade. Faith turned off the television and called Tippy out of the room. She opened the side door to the trailer and let him out into the yard to do his business. Her mind chewed on the words her brother’s teammate had dropped. What did the man do to cause her brother’s death, and if he, in fact, did contribute to his death, why in the name of all that was holy was he confessing to it so long after the fact?

  Two plus two did not equal four in this circumstance. He needed to explain and she needed to give him the chance to do so. Tippy scratched on the outside of the door, rousing Faith from her thoughts. She let him back in and he immediately went back to his boy.

  Jason sat on the sectional. His elbows rested on his knees, and his head hung between his shoulders. Faith stood at the end of the hall, taking in the man’s mannerisms. Whatever he had done weighed heavily on him. Faith teetered between wanting to tell him to get out and needing to know why he felt it so necessary to come to her and confess his involvement. She’d lived in a viper’s den. She knew cold-blooded killers. Her gut told her this man wasn’t one. She�
�d stake her life on it. Well, being alone with him in your trailer would play right into that little bet, wouldn’t it, Faith?

  She drew a long breath to calm herself and sat down across from him.

  “How are you responsible for Theo’s death?”

  He lifted his pain-filled eyes to hers and spoke quietly. “I was the team leader. It was my responsibility to ensure my men were safe. We were in a hostile environment. I didn’t react fast enough. I failed him.”

  Faith scrunched her eyes closed tightly. What in the hell was this man talking about? “Okay, just hold on a minute. His team leader’s name was Doug. I met him. Big guy, built like Theo and you. Nice, too. I think you need to explain this a little better for me. Where was Doug?”

  “He died in a car accident just before the team was set to deploy. I’d been training with them for over a year, to keep in shape and to keep my skill set sharp. The team approached me and asked me to step into Doug’s shoes. I did.”

  “So you didn’t kill Theo?”

  Jason stood and walked toward the kitchen. It only took him three steps. He dropped his hands to his hips. “I failed to see an imminent hostile threat. I instructed the men to stand down. We were outmanned and outgunned. The man who held us just fired. No warning. He killed your brother in front of me. No prelude. He just killed him as if he didn’t matter.”

  The anguish in the big man’s voice pulled Faith off the chair. She walked up to him, stopping less than six inches in front of him. “But you didn’t make him join Guardian. You didn’t make him take on the missions.”

  “He took my orders.”

  “That he willingly took. I know the plane went down. They told me—”

  “How he died?”

  “They told me he survived the crash…”

  “They didn’t tell you how he was killed?”

  “No, they told me he survived the crash. You didn’t force him into the airplane or push him out of the aircraft without a parachute. Believe me, he knew the risks. He talked about it with me. Guardian was his way out of a hell we both existed in. The money he made there helped get Reece and me out of a dangerous situation, too.”