Page 23 of Under Control

“Just that easy?”

“Just that easy.”

Danica exhaled slowly, a deep understanding of their dynamic taking her over. He was an aggressive fighter, and she was a passive avoider. They were a yin and yang. Wind blew up into her face, sending dust from the arid landscape into her nose and eyes, challenging her—screaming at her. However uneasy she was about it, Carrick was right.

He was her best chance.

“Okay,” she whispered, barely able to believe that the word itself escaped her mouth.

Carrick grinned like a wolf that had finally caught its sheep, and he crossed his arms like a hard, sculpted statue.

“Let’s go get your life back,” he said, something feverish flashing across his eyes.

He nodded back to her, obviously ready to go to war, and turned to head around to his side of the truck. She licked her lips, watching him march with purpose. Her acceptance had obviously proven to fire him up. She couldn’t disappoint him now.

As a willing but reluctant Danica jumped back into the passenger seat, she hoped that having the tall, strong protective man by her side would give herstrengthto face what she’d never thought she could. She kept that to herself as she watched him make the turn toward LA.

Why is he helping me?

She had no idea, but she suspected he had a deep need to guard and protect—and fight injustice, so long as she played on his side and listened to him.

Now, her next problem was to figure out what the hell she was going to wear, because she had not packed anything suitable for one of LA’s hottest, richest weddings.

Chapter Nine

Carrick

“I’m just by that clusterfuck of crap in front of UCLA,” Carrick grunted into his cell as the pickup truck idled on the side of the road in Santa Monica. “You know, that thing they are callingart.”

“Oh, fuck—you’re at the ugly statue.” Delta chuckled. “Be there in a second.”

Carrick ended the call and looked out of the window, across the street to where Danica was. He couldn’t make out her form anymore through the glass windows of the trendy indie boutique and guessed she’d gone into the changing room. She wouldn’t let him go in, complaining that his looming presence would stress her out as she desperately searched for something to wear for the wedding. He had no idea what she was after, but he knew they had less than an hour to be at the ceremony, and LA traffic wasn’t forgiving.

Finally, in his rear-view mirror, he saw a dark pickup pull up behind him. Delta always came through. Always. There was a reason why Carrick relied on him.

Delta came around the front of the truck with a long, zipped-up suit bag in hand. Carrick opened the door and greeted him, taking the bag.

“Thanks, buddy,” Carrick said, unzipping it and seeing his most expensive navy-blue suit, a dress shirt, tie and his shoes inside—the only one that would even begin to pass as fitting in at the Bel Air wedding.

Remaining silent, Delta put his hands on his hips, his face serious and hard under the beating Southern California sun. He looked tired, worn down. Carrick realized something was wrong and turned to face his crewmate.

“I don’t like this,” Delta warned, reaching up to run his hands across his face and over the long scar that started at his cheekbone then went up to his eyebrow.

That scar was a constant memory of heroism, Carrick thought, remembering the day Delta had gotten it. The man had done things that Carrick had never seen a SEAL do.

“There’s something wrong with this job.”

“I know,” Carrick replied, feeling the same concerns.

“I don’t trust Petrov. Did you read his AARs?” Delta questioned, keeping his tone cool. “I flipped you the intel. It was fucking hard getting my hands on that, so you’d better read it.”

“I haven’t had time,” Carrick exhaled, keeping his eye out for Danica in the shop. He still couldn’t see her…and that was starting to make him nervous. Two more minutes and he was busting in there.

Delta followed his line of sight to the shop, and looked back, assessing.

“Been distracted?” Delta asked, keeping his tone light.

Carrick shot him a warning look.

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