Walker (In the Company of Snipers #21) - Irish Winters Page 0,131

palms were warm on her hips, his thumbs stroking softly up and down her waist. “But then you came along,” he muttered, his voice ragged, “like a bright shining star, and you changed everything. I’m sick of fighting the world, Persia. I just want to go home. I want to kiss America again and be able to breathe without watching my back. I want to be with you.”

“When this is done,” she told him firmly, her hands again around the back of his neck, “and it will be over soon, let’s go back to my place in Florida. Let’s both kiss the beach, then make love all day and all night under the stars.”

A wan smile tweaked his lips. “That’d be so damned perfect, wouldn’t it?”

“I think so.”

“So, tell me.” His voice turned hard. “Who is your boss? Really.”

Persia looked at the blue sky shining down through the leafy branches overhead. Until then, she’d thought Alex was nothing but a hardass, with a soft spot for his wife and daughter. She knew better now. She’d just watched him work a miracle for a man he hadn’t met until a day ago. She couldn’t help the chuckle that bubbled up from her heart.

“Oh, you know the type. Former jarhead. Hard-assed, short-tempered troll. He’s the same as you, Hotrod. He’s willing to march into Hell for what and who matters.”

“See, that’s what I don’t get. Why me?”

She couldn’t suppress her tender feelings for this stubborn man. “Why not you—?”

“You do know the boss’ll have your asses for this, don’t you?”

“Eric!” Persia hissed, her heart pounding up her throat. She let her hands slip down Walker’s chest to drop to her sides. “You just scared ten years off my life!”

Eric Reynolds was another tall, dark, and handsome warrior, only he worked out of the Seattle TEAM office for Murphy Finnegan. Outfitted the same as Zack, he stood calmly at the opposite corner of the garage, but she was certain he’d seen too much. “Kruze Sinclair just showed, and he brought someone with him.”

“God, who now?” Walker snapped.

Persia smoothed a hand over his taut shoulder. Man, this guy needed a break. Even good news was stressing him.

“Senator McQueen Sullivan,” Eric replied easily, his dark eyes warily quartering the scene, taking in the way Walker still had a good hold on Persia.

“Shit! Why’s he here?”

She couldn’t help but smile. Walker seemed to have a hard time accepting help from everyone. “What’s wrong with Sullivan? I thought he was on your side.”

“I… I ran out on him, too.”

“You do that a lot, do you, Judge? Run out on folks who are trying to help you?” Eric asked good-naturedly, as he headed their way. “Bet I know what’ll make you feel better.” Reaching under his left arm, he pulled a pistol out of his holster and handed it over grip first. “There’s gear, a go-bag, holsters, and plenty more ammo inside. It’s time to get moving.”

The moment Walker’s fingers touched that weapon, he racked the slide and blew out a deep breath. “Thanks. And you are?”

Eric extended a gloved hand. “Former Navy medic, former USMC asshole, Eric Reynolds, on your six, Chief Judge. Damned proud to make your acquaintance and glad as hell we finally caught up with you. At least…” Eric winked at Persia. “Looks like she did.”

She didn’t hesitate, didn’t let Eric think she was embarrassed, either. “Apparently that’s all Walker needed, to be armed and dangerous again.”

“As he should be. You ready to engage the enemy again, Chief?”

Persia answered for the man at her side. “Let’s do this.”

Chapter Thirty-Eight

The meet and greet with Kruze and McQueen Sullivan ended up being more back-slapping than head-butting. For that, Walker was grateful. Then Stewart declared a moratorium on further action until everyone recovered from jet lag. The gang settled down for a day’s worth of R&R at Murphy’s. Because the house couldn’t hold everyone, Walker’s men camped in the fields and trees around the estate, along with Alex’s male agents, Hans, Kruze, Brimley, and Rover. That left the guest rooms for Stewart, Senator McQueen Sullivan, Walker, and the two female agents, but it also provided a veritable ring of security around the place.

After the wear and tear of one hell of an intense day, Walker took a quick, hot shower and toweled off. He’d just gotten into bed when his door cracked open. He was facedown, too exhausted to care who needed to talk with him now. Until petal-soft angel fingers drifted over his shoulders, down his

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