But One-Mile refused to let Brea go again. He’d make her father listen…somehow. Since punching the guy in the face was out of the question, he’d have to quell his brute-force instinct to fight dirty and instead employ polish, tact, and charm—all the qualities he possessed zero of.
Fuck. This was going to be a shit show.
Still, One-Mile refused to give up. He’d known uphill battles his whole life. What was one more?
Through the front window, he spotted the soft doe eyes that had haunted him since last summer. Though Brea was talking to an elderly couple, the moment she saw him approach her porch, her amber eyes went wide with shock.
Determination gripped One-Mile and squeezed his chest. By damned, she was going to listen, too.
He wasn’t leaving without making her his.
As he mounted the first step toward her door, his cell phone rang. He would have ignored it if it hadn’t been for two critical facts: His job often entailed saving the world as people knew it, and this particular chime he only heard when one of the men he respected most in this fucked-up world needed him during the grimmest of emergencies.
Of all the lousy timing…
He yanked the device from his pocket. “Walker here. Colonel?”
“Yeah.”
Colonel Caleb Edgington was a retired, highly decorated military officer and a tough son of a bitch. One thing he wasn’t prone to was drama, so that single foreboding syllable told One-Mile that whatever had prompted this call was dire.
He didn’t bother with small talk, even though it had been months since they’d spoken, and he wondered how the man was enjoying both his fifties and his new wife, but they’d catch up later. Now, they had no time to waste.
“What can I do for you?” Since he owed Caleb a million times over, whatever the man needed One-Mile would make happen.
Caleb’s sons might be his bosses these days…but as far as One-Mile was concerned, the jury was still out on that trio. Speaking of which, why wasn’t Caleb calling those badasses?
One-Mile could only think of one answer. It was hardly comforting.
“Or should I just ask who I need to kill?”
A feminine gasp sent his gaze jerking to Brea, who now stood in the doorway, her rosy bow of a mouth gaping open in a perfect little O. She’d heard that. Goddamn it to hell. Yeah, she knew perfectly well what he was. But he’d managed to shock her repeatedly over the last six months.
“I’m not sure yet.” Caleb sounded cautious in his ear. “I’m going to text you an address. Can you meet me there in fifteen minutes?”
For months, he’d been anticipating this exact moment with Brea. “Any chance it can wait an hour?”
“No. Every moment is critical.”
Since Caleb would never say such things lightly, One-Mile didn’t see that he had an option. “On my way.”
He ended the call and pocketed the phone as he climbed onto the porch and gave Brea his full attention. He had so little time with her, but he’d damn sure get his point across before he went.
She stepped outside and shut the door behind her, swallowing nervously as she cast a furtive glance over her shoulder, through the big picture window. Was she hoping her father didn’t see them?
“Pierce.” Her whisper sounded closer to a hiss. “What are you doing here?”
He hated when anyone else used his given name, but Brea could call him whatever the hell she wanted as long as she let him in her life.
He peered down at her, considering how to answer. He’d had grand plans to lay his cards out on the table and do whatever he had to—talk, coax, hustle, schmooze—until she and her father both came around to his way of thinking. Now he only had time to cut to the chase. “You know what I want, pretty girl. I’m here for you. And when I come back, I won’t take no for an answer.”
Chapter 1
The previous year
Saturday, July 26
“You okay?” Cutter Bryant, her best friend and pseudo older brother, squeezed her hand as they stepped onto the back patio of his boss’s home.
Brea Bell took in the chaotic summer party—the smoking barbecue, the loud music, the clinking beers, and male laughter booming from his fellow operatives at EM Security Management, none of whom seemed to have brought a date. She was the only woman in the yard, and suddenly every man seemed to turn and focus on her. “A little overwhelmed.”
“I’m not surprised. It’s hot as hellfire tonight, and there’s a lot of testosterone here.” He glanced at the handful of men clustered in conversation across the lawn.
“You tried to tell me.”
“For your own good. But you’re a stubborn thing. Always have been.” He gave her an encouraging smile. “Try to have some fun, huh?”
She nodded. “Thanks for inviting me. Daddy has been encouraging me to get out of the house and spread my wings a little.”
But he would never let her spend an evening out with a man he didn’t know well and wholeheartedly approve of. Since Cutter had known her from birth, he was one of the few who fit into that category.
“You need to find your future, Bre-bee. It’s time.”
Cutter was right. She couldn’t simply be the preacher’s dutiful daughter, helping Daddy care for the residents of tiny Sunset, Louisiana, for the rest of her life. She and Cutter had talked about that more than once. Brea agreed…but she didn’t know where to start. Since she enjoyed helping the folks in town look and feel their best, she’d gone to cosmetology school rather than college. Nothing she loved more than contributing, relieving, serving, and assisting others. Their happiness fed her own.
But lately, she’d been fighting a restlessness brewing inside her. A wildness, like
