Jameson (In the Company of Snipers #22) - Irish Winters Page 0,61
place was an amazing work of art.
“Yup, plus anything else you need. Bunk beds. Cold beer. Root beer. Decent food.”
Maddie came to mind, but Jameson kept that delectable thought to himself.
Two doors down, Harley stopped at the room at the far end of the hall. “This is yours for the duration. Each room comes with its own bathroom and ventilation system, a laptop if you want one. There’s a burner phone beside the laptop if you need it. I’m bushed. You need anything else?”
“If I do, I don’t know it. Just a shower and a few hours of sleep would be great.” A certain woman’s company wouldn’t hurt, but you don’t need to know that.
A warm palm slapped his back. “Then you’re in the right place. Sleep all day tomorrow, err, today if you can. We’ll talk more once everyone’s rested. I’m bushed. Later.”
And that was that. Jameson cocked his head, listening for Maddie. But she and Eric were back in the kitchen, doing dishes and chatting. Which was the way this mission should end. Her, debriefing an experienced TEAM member. Him, going to bed, getting some well-deserved shut-eye, and minding his business. He took a deep breath and accepted the way this day was ending. Him. Alone. Again.
The bedroom was your basic square design, nothing tricky here. He spent a few minutes longer showering, thankful to get the smell of battle off his skin and out of his hair. But along with it went those lovely feminine hints of lavender and Maddie. She’d certainly been a nice surprise.
By the time he toweled dry and ran his fingers through his hair enough for a quick comb, it hit him. His first day on the job had worn him out. Feeling his way across the room, he found the desk, then the laptop, and right beside it, the phone. He rang home.
“Jameson? What’s wrong? My goodness, it’s only six am.”
“I’m good, Mom,” he led with to alleviate her perpetual worry for him. “Wow, it’s that late, err, early? Sorry. I lost track of time.”
“No, you’re fine. I’m usually up by five, you know that. But something’s going on. I can tell. What is it?”
“Nothing’s wrong, Mom. I’m good. Well, except I have to miss dinner this Sunday, but for a good reason. I got that job.”
“Wonderful! I know how much you wanted this one.” His mom’s smile radiated straight over the connection. “But Dad’ll be disappointed. We didn’t realize you’d be working Sundays.”
“I’m not, technically. Well, yeah, I guess I am, since I’m already on a mission. Maybe next week for sure.” She’d understand that. As a SEAL, he’d been on many missions he couldn’t talk about.
“Already? My goodness. Didn’t you just interview yesterday morning?”
“I did, but Adam and Walker put in a good word for me, and my boss sent me right out on a job, but Mom…” There was so much Jameson couldn’t say, so he told her what he could. “I met a girl.”
Chapter Seventeen
Maddie watched Jameson’s back as he disappeared down the hall with Harley. She couldn’t help feeling disappointed. He hadn’t looked her way or said good night or goodbye or… anything. Just walked away without a backward glance. Which made sense. He was the one who couldn’t see, but he should’ve known she wanted one last word with him. Maybe a kiss. He could’ve at least turned in her direction and cocked his head in the way she was beginning to adore.
Although now that she’d spent time with Eric, cleaning the kitchen and storing the groceries Harley had been kind enough to bring, she understood. This was a job, not a hook-up, and they were all adults with their own, very separate lives. Jameson Tenney was former US Navy, a SEAL, one of the most elite special operators in the military. He’d seen and done things most civilians would never understand. He, Eric, and Harley had that whole band-of-brothers thing going on, something she’d never be a part of. She was just a civilian. A wannabe.
Eric had gone on and on about the effects of adrenaline on a person during combat, how it jazzed up a man’s body and hormones, and turned him into a beast. How even for the best guys, that steady chemical overload still made the craziest emotions—like lust—feel more like love, when they were merely the after-effects of hyper-awareness, stress, worry, fear, and… yeah. Adrenaline. If his one-sided conversation wasn’t an indirect warning to back off on the romance with Jameson,