Flynn (Blue Halo Book 4)

“The doctors can’t do anything for your knees?”

Flynn’s fingers tightened around the wrench at the sound of Carina’s soft voice from the other room. For the hundredth time that day, he wished he’d gotten someone else from his team to supervise her.

“Dorothy, you know I’ve had both knees done. I’m not going through that again.”

Then he was immediately reminded why he hadn’t asked someone else to be here. Because it was another not-so-great day for his mother. She’d taken to calling Carina by his aunt’s name—his mother’s sister. She’d passed away four years ago after a late cancer detection.

“Do you need some pain medication?”

Carina hadn’t corrected his mother once, so it wasn’t a surprise that she didn’t now.

He’d been alternating between getting some work done on his computer and doing some odd jobs around his mother’s house. Right now, he was fixing the leaking tap in the kitchen. With his enhanced hearing, he’d caught every word that was said between them, of course, and Carina had been nothing but kind and nurturing.

“You know I don’t like those things. Rest is a perfectly good pain remedy.”

“Are you sure? You could just take half a pill.”

“Dorothy, I said I’m fine.”

Of course she was. Because when was Patricia Talbot not fine?

He’d just finished fixing the pipe when his phone rang. He rose to his feet, moving to the table and swiping it. “Callum, how’s the job going?”

“That’s what I’m calling about. It’s still early days, but just letting you know we haven’t seen anyone yet.”

That was a bit surprising, considering how panicked Paul had been. “You and Aidan coming home tonight?”

“Yep, and Logan and Blake will replace us.”

“And I’m on after them.”

He’d intentionally asked to be put later in the shift rotation, because he was hoping he’d have figured out this whole Carina-caring-for-his-mother business by then. If he hadn’t, he could always ask one of the other guys to go for him. But he hated doing that. Protective detail was part of his job, and every man deserved a break. Also, Jason and Liam were currently away on a short mission for their FBI liaison, Steve, so they were two men short right now.

“Will you be in the office tomorrow for a briefing?” Flynn asked.

“I’ll be there at nine.”

He gave a small nod, even though his friend couldn’t see him. “Great, see you then.”

He hung up, putting his phone down and hefting the wrench.

“Remind me who you’re dating this week.”

Flynn almost laughed at his mother’s words to Carina from the bedroom. His aunt Dorothy had been a serial dater. In fact, she used to tell him and anyone else who’d listen that no man could tie her down.

“I’m not dating anyone,” Carina replied. “I was dating someone for a while, but I didn’t feel that thing.”

Flynn paused halfway to the sink, his fingers tightening around the wrench. Was she just playing the role of Dorothy right now?

The idea of her dating any man had something inside of him twisting and squeezing. And yeah, he was aware of how fucking ridiculous that was, when he’d only met the woman days ago.

“Yes. The thing is important. I had that with David.”

Flynn swallowed at the mention of his father. They’d lost him six years ago. It had been tough for everyone. He was the best man Flynn had ever known.

There was a small sound, like his mother was patting Carina’s hand.

“I hope Flynn finds the one soon,” his mother said softly. “He keeps dating these floozies. Women he knows there’s no future with. Maybe that’s why he dates them.”

Okay, story time’s over.

Flynn walked to the bedroom. His mother was sitting up against the pillows on the bed, and Carina sat on the side. Both women looked up.

His mother’s brows rose. “David. I didn’t know you were home.”

He smiled. The first time she’d called him by his father’s name had been like a kick in the gut. Like her mother had forgotten him. Lost him. And in return, he’d lost his mother. In the early days, he’d corrected her. But after realizing that only made her upset, he’d stopped.

“I’m just checking on how everything’s going in here.”

His gaze flicked to Carina, but she quickly averted her own.

Patricia blew out a long breath. “I’m fine. I just need a nap.”

Carina rose from the bed, helping his mother tug the sheets down and ease between them. Then she handed her some water and a pill.

His mother sighed loudly. “Dorothy—”

“This isn’t pain medication. It’s to help you sleep.”

His mother’s eyes softened seconds before she took the pill and water.

Carina’s gentle approach with his mother once more had him pausing. Everything he’d seen today made him think she was telling the truth about whatever had happened in Michigan. He knew the woman would be on her best behavior today, what with eyes on her and all. But this—the gentle way she treated his mother—it was more. Too genuine to be faked.

She took the empty glass as Flynn moved across the room and pressed a kiss to his mother’s head.

When he turned to leave, he touched the small of Carina’s back and led her out, closing the door after them.

“You’re good with her,” he said quietly as they entered the kitchen.

She glanced at him over her shoulder, a twinkle in her eye. “Surprised?”

Yes. “No.”

A quiet, lyrical laugh sounded as she stopped at the sink. “Liar.”

Dragging his gaze away, he grabbed his own glass from the table and joined her at the sink. He was just reaching around her to set it down when she turned and stepped right into his chest. His hands went to her hips to steady her. Both her palms pressed against his chest.

For a moment, her sweet scent—that damn peach and vanilla—filled his nose, tormenting him.

The pitter-patter of her heart speeding up touched his ears. Then her lips parted and, this time, he didn’t stop his gaze from falling to her mouth. Everything in him wanted to wrap her in his arms and taste her. The need had his fingers tightening, his breath coming faster.

He was seconds from gritting his teeth and stepping back when her thumbs grazed his chest. He felt the touch like it was fire against him. It singed him. And when her tongue slipped from her mouth to wet her lips, he lost the last scrap of self-restraint and dove in.

The man’s eyes pierced her. Claimed her. And his hands…they burned where they touched.

When he stared at her mouth, her breath caught. Those fingers on her waist tightened and the thumping of her heartbeat increased.

A quiet voice in her head whispered for her to look somewhere else, step away, but it was impossible. She was rooted to the spot.

Almost of their own volition, her thumbs grazed the hard ridges of his chest. Her mouth suddenly dry, she swiped her tongue across her lips. The blue of his eyes deepened to navy as a soft growl rumbled from his chest.

That was all the warning she got before his head dipped and his mouth took hers.

A small hum reverberated deep in Carina’s throat as his soft lips swiped against her own. When the hands on her hips slid under the fabric of her top, grazing bare skin, she gasped. Immediately, his tongue plunged inside her mouth, touching and dancing with hers.

For some reason, she’d expected a light kiss. A soft exploration. This was the opposite. This was an explosion of heat and touch. This was everything her body craved.

She leaned into him, moaning into his mouth. He tasted of spices and mint, his musky scent everywhere, overpowering every other smell. It was intoxicating.

His hands caressed the bare skin of her back, so large they felt like they touched her everywhere. Then they lowered, grabbing her ass and lifting her against him. A shudder rocked her spine as her core rubbed against his bulge, and she grabbed his shoulders, steadying herself. She felt small and fragile and feminine in his arms.

Her fingers eased up his neck before burrowing into his hair.

Suddenly that mouth tore from hers, sweeping across her cheek and below her ear. She tried to silence her gasp, but it sounded loud in the room.

One of his hands moved to her front, sweeping beneath her shirt. Then it crept up, inch by inch, leaving a trail of fire as it went.

Her throat closed as he reached her ribs, skirting below her bra, teasing. Her breasts ached, crying out for him to touch them, swipe his thumb against her hard peak.

He nibbled on her neck, another soft growl rising in his chest.

And that small noise was just enough to penetrate the fog. For reality to crash back down around her.

He had a girlfriend. A living, breathing woman he’d taken on a date only last night.

Holy Christmas, what the hell was she doing?

She grabbed his wrist seconds before he touched her breast, her fingers not long enough to wrap around it.

All movement stopped. His mouth. His hand. Even his chest seemed to pause.

With her free hand, she pushed at his big chest. “Put me down.”

There was another pause—a second where she felt his gaze on her like a hot beam. She wasn’t looking at him anymore though. She couldn’t. There was a crease in his shirt, and she stared at it like it was the most interesting thing she’d ever seen.

Guilt slithered up her spine, souring her mouth. She’d kissed a taken man. That wasn’t okay. She wasn’t the kind of person who did that.

Finally, he slid her to the floor, her over-sensitive nipples brushing against his hard chest as she went.

The air whooshed out of her. Torture. All of it.

“Carina—”

“My shift has finished. I need to go.”

She rushed past him, grabbing her purse off the kitchen table. She hadn’t even reached the door when he was in front of her, and for the second time that day, she almost ran into him.

How the heck had he gotten there so fast?

He stepped deeper into her space. “I don’t understand what just happened.”

She didn’t understand either. Where the heck had her sense gone? “We shouldn’t have done that. It was wrong.”

She tried to step around him, but his arm swung out and grazed against her stomach, his hand on her hip. “Carina—”

“Don’t.”

Another beat of quiet. Then his arm dropped, and the loss of touch was like a kick to the chest.

God, she was a terrible human, crushing on a man who was spoken for.

She moved quickly, almost running out of the house.

She scanned for her car before cursing under her breath. She’d walked today. Dammit. All she wanted to do was slide into her car and drive away, disappear as quickly as possible. As it was, she felt his eyes on her the entire time. As she ran down the driveway. As she hurried along the sidewalk. When her bag slipped from her shaking shoulder. He saw everything.

Then she did something she knew she shouldn’t. Just like at the pizza shop, she turned her head, glancing over her shoulder.

Her foot immediately caught on the path, and she stumbled, a new wave of heat blasting through her abdomen.

Because there he was—still standing in the doorway, looking at her like she was the only thing that existed in the world.

It was a look that claimed her just as thoroughly as his kiss.