not!”

That shut him up. Was that what he’d been doing? Was he as bad as her father? He opened his mouth to say something, shut it, then opened it again, not sure what to tell her now.

Maddie solved that dilemma when she leaned up and crashed into his wide open, ornery mouth, her fingers clutching his ears and his cheeks, her tongue doing amazing laps inside his mouth and over his teeth and… salt. He tasted salty tears. She was crying.

Sweet Baby Jesus. He forgot what he was going to say. Forgot what he was thinking and where he was. Only knew that she’d scared the crap out of him, and now, he’d made her cry. Her tears, more than anything, hurt his heart. He wanted to kiss her better, inhale every last one of her fears, and spank her ass, all at the same time. But she was safe and contrite, soft, and so damned warm…

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed into his mouth. “But I couldn’t let her hurt you again. I made you a target by shooting her dad, and she knew who you were, and that we got away, and she said she was gunning for me, and I figured you’d never let her—”

“Shush,” he murmured around her prehensile, loquacious tongue. “You’re alive. She’s not. That’s what matters. But you’ve got to stop trying to rescue me. I’m trained for this shit. You’re not.”

Her chest heaved with a long draw of air. This woman could string more run-on sentences together than anyone he’d ever heard. But she’d come here to save her brothers. She’d purposefully put herself in harm’s way to protect men who were bigger, heavier, and meaner than her. That was no small thing.

“Alex is going to kill me,” she whined as she ended the best kiss of Jameson’s life. Salty and sweet, but earnest as hell. How could he stay angry after she’d risked her life to protect his? That was why she was here. She hadn’t left him and the guys behind. She’d charged straight to the frontline like a damned SEAL would have. Like the Marine she’d always wanted to be. To protect and serve. That had to stop.

Jameson bowed his sweaty forehead to hers. “There’s no room for rogue agents on jobs like ours, Maddie,” he explained more patiently. “Alex can’t take a chance on freelancers, and you’re not a trained operator, babe. But you sure as hell stepped in a steaming pile of shit by coming after Delaney on your own. So, face him head on, and get ready to get your ass reamed.” Somehow, saying that to a woman felt like sexual harassment.

Jameson rolled to his side to catch his breath and ease that stabbing wound in his other side. Felt like a knife was stuck there, though he knew better. He’d been shot before. Nothing serious. Lifting gingerly to his feet, he pulled Maddie along with him. She hadn’t yet seen his injury, so it couldn’t have been bleeding too bad. He hoped. Biting his lip at the black shadows dancing at his already dark peripheral, he tucked her under his good arm and prepared to weather the oncoming shitstorm with her. He had no sense of where Alex was in all the chaos of first responders and yakkity reporters ahead, but he knew he’d soon find out.

Maddie’s hand fell naturally to his chest while they stood there, both breathing hard and both sweating buckets. Both shaky and holding each other up. His heart was still pumped full of the instinctual fight or flight compulsion, but her entire body felt as if he had an arm around a fluttering hummingbird.

“Any reporters come at us, we say ‘no comment,’ and we walk away, understood?” he warned her. “Agents have no authority to comment on covert operations, ever. Just like in the military. Alex is the boss. He’s the only one who talks to the press.”

“Okay, yeah. Only Alex. Got it,” Maddie breathed. She was young, naïve, and inexperienced as hell. Good intentioned, but in dire need of some hardcore military training. If she wanted to be a Marine, so be it. He’d make damned sure she got that training.

Jameson sensed Eric’s approach first, then Harley’s. Eric’s footfall was a firm and steady tread on the concrete. Harley had more of a casual, rolling gait.

“Guys,” he greeted them before they said a word.

One of them whistled softly, but it was Harley who said, “Darlin’, what the hell were you thinking coming all the way to Boston by yourself?”

“That you guys deserved better than being shot in cold blood!” she bit out, sounding tougher than she was, but shivering as if she were freezing.

“There you go, babe,” Jameson whispered against her temple as he rubbed her biceps. “If you’re going to be a bad ass, don’t ever back down.”

“And Marines don’t cry,” Eric added gently from her immediate left. “It’ll only make your DI meaner. Alex isn’t going to fire you, but he might make you scrub toilets with a toothbrush for a week.”

“Your toothbrush,” Harley added.

Jameson grinned at the nerve of these guys to tease her, until Maddie asked, “W-w-what’s a DI?” Man, even her voice was shaking.

“Enough,” he told the guys, squeezing her so she’d know he might be mad, but he’d always and forever have her six. “She doesn’t need all of us ganging up on her. One asshole’s enough.”

Her pulse was pounding. She was close to tears again, he could tell. The guys must’ve noticed the same thing. Eric stepped to her side, brushed Jameson’s arm out of his way and put a hand on her trembling shoulder. Harley bumped elbows with Jameson. They were now a united front against the tsunami about to blast over them.

“A DI’s a drill sergeant,” Eric muttered. “A drill instructor. They’re all assholes, Maddie. Like Alex.”

Jameson damn near smiled at that description until said asshole in charge barked a wicked, “Sit Rep, goddamnit! Now!”

“Yes, Boss,” Jameson answered calmly, even as his body

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