Page 70 of The Soldier

“And the bullet ripped open your flesh.” Josh grunts. “It’s not charity. I knew it was coming once we sent the photo, so take the fucking money and go wash some dishes or something.”

“Yeah, I’m not doing dishes.” I take the seven-figure check from his outstretched hand and stare at it a little longer. I was not expecting this and also don’t recognize the name on the paper. “So, back on Ryders’s team?”

Josh nods and leans back in his chair.

“We have some new corporate clients I think you might be happy with. Bit of travel but mostly local private security.”

Perfect.

“Think you can start in three weeks?”

“As long as this thing”—I lift my arm—“doesn’t get infected.”

Josh stands. “Good. Go home and rest for a few more days. Maybe take Trina out for a drink.”

I blink.

He grabs his tablet and glances at me when I don’t reply.

“She lost her ever-loving mind the other night. Fuck her. Marry her. I don’t care. But call her.”

I can’t help my grin.

“You already did. Fuck me. I should’ve known.” Josh shakes his head.

“She was with Ryder when they picked me up from the hospital.” I confess. “We...talked.”

He snorts and opens the door for me to walk through. We both know there was no talking. Aside from some dirty talk, there really wasn’t. And while I was wounded and exhausted, I’m kicking myself for not making her open up.

I head down the hall and Penny walks out of Aidan’s office.

“Hey Penster!” I rub her hair and she slaps her hands in the hair.

“Marshall Adams, you—” She spots my bandage which is visible due to the short sleeved black T-shirt I’m wearing. “What did you do?”

“Fell down the stairs.” I wink.

“Adams.” Adian rounds his desk and crosses his arms as he runs his eyes over me. “You good?”

“Alive. Back on US soil. Life is good.”

It is.

Nothing makes you more grateful for your life than being in a shithole like Iran for a few days.

And being shot at.

That and having incredible sex with a gorgeous woman for hours on end.

“Oh,” Penny says, and I see the moment it clicks, then she rubs my good arm. She’s like the office mom and is old enough to be our mom, too. Somehow she balances out all this testosterone.

“I’m heading home. Guess the drugs are knocking me around. I’ll be back in a few days,” I tell Aidan.

“Yell out if you need anything. Oh, and we’re having a party on Friday night. Gotta fit them in before the twins arrive and our social life comes to a screeching halt. Everyone will be there.”

Including Trina.

Perfect.

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