snapped to attention, and his unseeing eyes snapped forward. “Earlier today, we received actionable intel that Lucy Delaney had settled into Pops’ usual hideout, The Black Irish Rose Tavern, here on Boston Harbor.” Which was not precisely truthful, but this was what warriors did. They always covered their brothers’ and sisters’ backs.

He took a quick breath and continued. “We suspected she intended to clean house and tie up all loose ends, which meant Miss Bannister and me. She’d already told Agents Taylor Armstrong and Maverick Carson she was gunning for us, Miss Bannister in particular. Because of that death threat, Maddie took the initiative to come to Boston and surveil the area ahead of us. Shortly after we arrived—”

“Cut the bullshit!” Alex hissed. Damn, he sounded nasty. He had that whole back of the throat, I-will-kill-the-next-liar thing down to a fine art. If Jameson hadn’t known his boss was human, he would’ve sworn he’d just run smack into a pissed-off tiger.

“Let me remind you what you said.” Alex must’ve zeroed in on Eric. “’No worries. Already got a plan. We’ll find her.’ Sound familiar?”

Whoa, Jameson was impressed with the steaming shitload of wicked sarcasm Alex had just heaped on Eric. Alex was making him feel all warm and tingly inside. Felt like he was back on active duty. Bring. It. On!

“We did find her, Boss, and we executed our infil perfectly,” Eric responded evenly.

“But you know how plans go, Boss,” Harley drawled, his voice loose and his tone casual, as if Alex didn’t worry him at all. “Nothing on the drawing boards at HQ ever works out for troops in the field. Murphy’s rule or something. Shit’s gonna happen. Sure would’ve been nice if we’d known Tucker Chase had one of his mind readers inside. Thing’s mighta gone smoother if we’d had that intel a little sooner, don’t you think?”

Ouch. Jameson couldn’t help it. He winced. Had Harley just fired a round over Alex’s bow? Must have. Because Alex made an odd, distressed sound, again at the back of his throat, like he might’ve swallowed wrong.

“We understand. You’ve got a helluva lot on your plate right now, what with Kelsey having an emergency C-section and a new baby boy and all,” Harley went on, “but we wouldn’t be in this predicament now if we’d known the whole picture before hell broke loose, would we?” Whoa, he had some balls to take on his boss like he did.

Damned if Alex didn’t snap, “You’re right. Won’t happen again. And you…” There was that feral growl again. He must have Maddie in his sights now.

She froze, and Jameson prepared to go to war with his boss on what might end up being his last day of working for the guy. Jameson’s spine stiffened, and his fingers curled into knotted fists. His body and soul went hard. He might’ve lost his sight, but he hadn’t lost his nerve. He could take this son of a bitch down, easy.

Until Alex pulled Maddie out from under his arm and muttered, “I could’ve lost you, damn it. What were you thinking?”

Jameson held back, his head cocked in case she might still need him. Didn’t sound like it, though. Her tears must’ve done the trick. Alex didn’t lay into her after that initial snarl.

“I couldn’t let her h-h-hurt my guys,” she hiccupped.

My guys. Jameson liked the sound of that. Maddie was a team player. Just needed a few pointers on how to play the game better next time.

“Good job. Just don’t do it again. Promise?”

She must’ve nodded. Jameson had the impression Alex held her in his arms. That had to stop.

“Excuse me, Mr. Stewart,” a gruff baritone interrupted. “Special Agent Harper Kincaid at your service. Director Chase asked me to offer FBI assistance to you and your team. Understand you’ve got two injured.”

“Yes, the older gentleman on the ground over there. Damn. The one flirting with the female medic,” Alex huffed. “Can’t take the old fart anywhere.”

Maddie came back into Jameson’s side then. The injured side. Ouch. He couldn’t help it. He shuddered. The adrenaline had worn off and the damned thing was beginning to hurt like a mother.

“And this man,” Alex muttered. “Jameson? You think you can make it to the wagon?”

“You’re hurt,” Maddie hissed, “and you didn’t tell me? Where? Oh, good grief! Your side’s bleeding! Jameson!”

“I’m good,” he assured her even as Alex bellowed, “Medic!”

“I’ve got you, dumbass,” Eric cajoled as he slid a strong, gentle hand under Jameson’s arm and around his ribs.

“Jameson! Don’t you dare black out!” That squeal was all Maddie, and man, she sounded better angry than scared. But she was safe now, and that mattered most. She had a team of stout warriors who would forever fly cover over her. The boss wasn’t as big a hardass as he wanted everyone to believe and… and…

The chaotic, smoke-filled scene of first responders and nosy reporters faded into a whirling vortex of peace and calm. Jameson went limp. His face ended up pressed against Maddie’s lush, warm breasts. Lavender. He smelled flowery lavender and sweet, salty, feminine perspiration. The scents he wanted to bathe in the rest of his life. Those were her arms around him. Her fingers smoothing over his forehead and cheeks. Just Maddie’s. She was going to be okay.

With a sigh, he let go.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Maddie kept one hand intertwined with Jameson’s. They’d been taken to a local Boston emergency room, and were waiting to leave. The bullet hole had gone clean through his side, only causing minimal damage to a single rib. After the very kind ER physician administered a local anesthetic, the nurse had irrigated the wound, and the doctor then stitched and bandaged. The nurse had already removed Jameson’s IV. He had ten days’ worth of antibiotics and pain pills sitting on the nightstand pending his release. Alex and his father were arguing two cubicles away. They hadn’t stopped since they’d arrived.

Eric and Harley were still back at Conley Terminal, giving statements to local authorities and

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