my brothers and I kicked ass. We were an excellent team. And while I had no doubt we could manage the crisis and keep the family safe, I worried about the wellbeing of the island and its residents—our people, the place we had chosen to build our lives and make our homes. More than that, though, I was worried about Morgan. Part of me wished her far away from here. For a minute, I entertained the idea of calling in a favor from my friend Mark who had a plane. He could fly low and get her to an island out of the path of the storm. There was no guarantee that the storm wouldn’t change course again, for one thing. For the other, more troubling objection—I didn’t want her out of my sight. I wanted her where I could protect her.
I was beginning to understand the time Mickey lost his shit utterly and went into a nearly homicidal rage when his now-wife was kidnapped. The sense of losing control, of being powerless to protect someone so vital to you I was gripping her hand tight even as I drove. Maybe I needed that proof that she was with me, whole and alive and not in immediate danger.
My heartbeat was making a racket that usually didn’t go along with a crisis. I was trained for extreme situations, and I’d survived enough hazardous missions to keep my head about me no matter how bad things got. At least I used to be able to do that. Without even an uptick of my pulse. I had mastery over my physical responses, and my will was iron. Apparently, until the slightest threat to Morgan appeared and then I was punching people and practically goddamn hyperventilating over a tropical storm because she was in danger.
My memory carted out a montage of injuries I’d witnessed in battle and after storms and a hurricane, substituting Morgan’s face, drained of color, deathly pale, blood on her temple or in the corner of her mouth, her cheekbone crushed and her jaw broken. I cleared my throat because bile was rising in my mouth at the thought of her being hurt. I had to fucking get myself together.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
I tried to say yes, but I sort of grunted. She leaned over the cab of my Jeep and stroked my hair.
“I’ve got you,” she said, as if she were there to reassure me. I parked by the pub and leaned over, covered her mouth with mine. I needed her so bad it was all I could do to keep from begging her to let me take her right there, right now. She kissed me back, responded with the heat and eagerness, the generosity she always did when I touched her. “Later,” she said, “You’ve got people to save.”
I nodded, reluctant to let her go. She suddenly rocketed across the cab at me, swamping me in a hug that I returned almost urgently. I clutched her for a minute and the thought ran through my head. Nothing can happen to you. My attachment to her, that need to keep her safe coursed through me like the oxygen in my blood. It was essential, a part of me. I was going to fight like hell to protect her. I knew it all the way down to my soul.
I led her into the pub. It was shut down for the family meeting. Everyone was there. My four brothers, and three of them with families of their own. Brandi and Elise were chasing toddlers around while Karin was holding a sleeping Lucas sprawled out in her lap. Lilly’s squeals split the quiet atmosphere, but they didn’t even wake Lucas. The kids were all growing up in our converted resort, so he was used to her noise and chaos by now. I smiled at them and felt a surge of pride that I had Morgan with me, her fingers laced through mine. I wasn’t walking into this as cannon fodder anymore—Tommy and me, the unattached brothers who would draw fire to protect the clan. We still would, of course, any of us would. But I wasn’t sitting by myself waiting while the husbands made decisions about how to keep their women and children safe. I wasn’t a husband, but I had a woman of my own to protect for once, even if she was leaving in a week. Even if I’d probably never see her again. My gut twisted at the thought,