The Kendall Family: Riley Part 12

"I can."

"You're sure?"

He nodded. "Let's just start from now and forget about that."

She put her head against his. "Forgetting about the past sounds like a good idea, but it's easier said than done. Do you think your family will be able to?"

"In time."

"Are we going to have time? After Paris?"

"Maybe. I'm open to that. We have stuff to get through first, so we shouldn't worry too much. But I'm glad you're thinking about it."

Hearing him sound pleased, she kissed him. "It's not such a bad idea," she teased, "but let's take it one day at a time."

"And no past."

"No past."

As they got up and prepared to go, Jordan steeled her heart. So many things could go wrong over the next few days. Taking it one day at a time and living in the moment was the only smart viewpoint.

A short while later, they mounted his Harley and took off for Kendall Motorsports, a motorcycle shop and restaurant that Tristan had purchased from the original owner. They ate lunch there while Riley made sure someone else knew what to do in his absence, saying only he'd planned to be gone a week, the length of time Jordan thought their mission would take. But he also wrote down pa.s.swords for security systems and other information, prompting an employee to ask if Riley was planning to not come back. Was Riley trying to leave things in good hands in case he died? The thought sobered her and she vowed that wouldn't happen. She'd give her life to make sure he came back to his.

Chapter 12 Farewell.

While Riley was making those preparations for his absence, he realized that, for the first time since he'd returned from the Marines, he might not return to see his family. He'd been used to that in the service, but being back home had renewed his feelings for everything involving them. And the family was growing. Connor and Sophia were thinking of having a child even now. Tristan had a baby on the way and had already asked him to be the G.o.dfather, an honor and responsibility he loved. Wasn't one of his duties to not get himself killed?

But that just brought up the central point here-without capturing Thomas and learning who wanted Riley dead, there was always some chance another a.s.sa.s.sin would come to collect. Someone could be coming even now, he realized. If someone had just hired Thomas, then he was clear, but if he'd been put on some sort of jihad list, his name might stay on there a while. Long enough for someone else to see if they could collect the bounty. He had to know. And he had to get away from Comus quickly so anyone else coming didn't find him or his family. They'd presumably leave them alone if Riley was thought to be gone. Or dead. When he and Jordan sat down for lunch in KMS' bar and grill, with Tristan and Victoria joining them, the thoughts were still on his mind, though he didn't dive right into the seriousness at first.

The sight of the couple gave him pause. Victoria looked radiant, having that expectant mother glow. Her brown eyes shone and her auburn hair had grown quickly in pregnancy to nearly reach her waist. In only a few more months, they'd become parents. Tristan gently rubbed her belly absentmindedly while commenting on how the business was going. He'd given up his sport bike racing career to stay home and run this new venture, but he hadn't cut the blond hair dangling in front of his das.h.i.+ng blue eyes or otherwise cleaned up his appearance. Faded jeans with a hole in the knee and T-s.h.i.+rt made it clear to customers that KMS wasn't run by stiffs in suits.

After a few minutes, Riley finally asked Jordan, "Do you know if someone hired just Thomas to kill me, or if it was a general hit anyone might come to collect?"

He cast a glance around the room. Square pine tables filled the wooden floor and a long, matching bar had been carved with motorcycles of all kinds: Harleys, sport bikes, trikes, and even ATVs. Open windows let in sunlight and a breeze that kept the sweet smell of barbecued ribs heavy in the air. The bartender stood chatting with two biker patrons, far enough away to not overhear, but more people were being seated now and Riley caught the hostess' gaze and indicated people should sit away from their place in one corner, by the fireplace that wasn't burning.

Jordan put down her foamy lager and shook her head. "He didn't say. He usually worked from an a.s.signment from the government. We weren't bounty hunters."

With one hand on her baby b.u.mp, Victoria asked, "Even though you were paid per..."

Jordan used a more innocent word and asked, "Job? Yeah. Much of what we did wasn't above board, which he said was one of the reasons for things being arranged certain ways I didn't understand, or sometimes like. They kept me pretty ignorant and I had my suspicions he started taking side jobs. It was one reason I left. I felt like we became bounty hunters, if we weren't in the beginning. I'm not sure what happened. I think money corrupted him."

Riley suggested, "Maybe we can find out during the interrogation."

"There's a lot I'd like to know," she admitted.

Tristan said to his brother, "I can't help wondering how you're going to interrogate him. Is that something you've done before? Is that one of your secrets you don't tell us about?"

"No," Riley answered truthfully, though he wouldn't have told Tristan had the answer been different. His little brother was tough but idolized him a little. More importantly, Tristan might not have really understood the situations leading to such things. "I didn't do that in the Marines. I'll just use my imagination with this guy. I'm sure I can be persuasive enough."

"So no waterboarding or something like that?" Tristan asked, picking up a French fry.

"No." Riley turned to Jordan. "Getting back to the job for me, what I'm concerned about is someone other than you and Jake being sent. If it was an open job, someone else could still try."

"True," she admitted, "but he'll send the pics we took to whoever hired him and word will go out that the job is done."

"The question is how quickly? What if someone's already here and tries today or tomorrow? I'm thinking maybe we should stay away from my house."

She arched an eyebrow. "Good point."

Riley added, "I think we'll get a hotel room somewhere. Might take someone's car instead of the bike, too, as that might be recognizable."

"It was in your file," Jordan admitted. "The bike."

"Take my car," suggested Tristan, "or you can borrow a bike from here."

"Another thing," Riley started, nodding his thanks, though as co-owner he could've taken one without the offer and the family would've let him do whatever he wanted, "if someone else arrives to do the job and learns I'm supposedly dead, but everyone's acting all happy and normal, they'll get suspicious. Maybe you guys should try to look somber."

Tristan grunted. "Do you really think we need to?"

"There's no way to know right now. It can't hurt. Maybe a couple days of laying low. No wild parties. That sort of thing."

"Yeah. We can do that. I can talk to the others if you don't have time before you go."

"So no fake funeral?" Victoria asked, smiling a little as if trying to lighten the mood.

The others chuckled and talk slowly turned to simpler concerns, like how plans for the baby were coming. Victoria wanted the nursery all set up, even though they wouldn't need the crib in particular for a long time, as the baby would be sleeping in their bedroom. The couple had a lot of help getting things ready and hadn't needed to do much personally. At times Tristan had complained that he was almost a bystander as Riley in particular came over to help set up things like the crib, but the Marine loved being helpful and was looking forward to being an uncle. He'd made himself back off when Tristan objected that he'd never know how to do anything if they didn't let him do things himself. It was a complaint he'd made before as a kid, being the youngest. The whole conversation reminded Riley of just what he'd be missing.

After lunch, Jordan and Riley took a Honda Gold Wing and headed to Sugarloaf Inn, the Kendall bed-and-breakfast, which had recently been renovated after a bad arson fire had destroyed the kitchen. They didn't spend too much time there, as the inn had guests, but Connor and Sophia shared a bottle of wine with them out back, talking of their wedding plans. Riley had less security to tend to here, just checking all the cameras and visiting with them in case he never saw them again. The thought bothered him, and as the visits with family continued, he morbidly felt like he was saying goodbye to all of them. Jordan noticed and asked about it when they pulled up to the Comus Winery, another Kendall property, and she got off the touring motorcycle.

"Is all of this getting you depressed?" she asked, one hand on his arm.

He c.o.c.ked an eyebrow. "Is it that obvious?"

"Kind of, yeah. Your expressions tend toward steely, not sad."

Riley hadn't meant to let on and admitted, "I'm starting to feel like I'm preparing to never see anyone again."

She looked down and remarked, "I thought you'd be used to going on a mission."

"I am. This just feels different. There are so many unknowns."

"Well, we don't have to go through with it if you don't want. Thomas thinks we're both dead. We could just run off to the Caribbean or somewhere for a few weeks, let everything blow over."

Riley couldn't hide his surprise. "Are you having second thoughts?"

"No. Sort of." She sighed. "I want to finish this, but there's risk to both of us. I don't want your family to lose you if something happens. I don't want that to happen, especially the more I spend time around them. Maybe it's just easier to let it go."

He took her hand. "I love the idea of it being over right now, too, but I don't think I'll ever be at ease if we don't do it. I'll always be looking over my shoulder."

"I know the feeling." She leaned her head on that same shoulder. "I wouldn't want that for you, and I'm tired of it, too, for so many years now. We'll need to see this to the end, but maybe we should get on with it tomorrow. The more I sit around here enjoying time with you, the less I'll want to go."

"Yeah. One last mission for us both."

"One last mission," she agreed.

As Riley got off the bike and they headed inside for a wine tasting, he added, "By the way, there's one other reason. Whoever is behind it might have targeted other Marines. A hit put out on one of us sets a bad precedent. I need to find out if anyone else is targeted and stop all of this."

"I've been meaning to ask," Jordan began, opening one of the gla.s.s doors, "what made you go into the military? How old were you?"

"Seventeen." He held the door for her as they entered the tasting room. "Quinn had a lock on running the winery, Kris was taking the stables, and Connor let it be known years earlier that he wanted to run the bed-and-breakfast. That left me, Tristan, and Chloe free to do something else. I'd always been the roughest of us and the military seemed like a good fit, and it was."

"Why the Marines?"

They went to the bar and sat on two stools. A serving girl nodded at the familiar Riley and brought over two gla.s.ses and a tasting sheet listing the available wines, more for Jordan's sake than his. Pine floors made sounds reverberate but only two people were here, an older couple enjoying chunks of cheese and crackers with their white wine at a tall table across the room. Stands full of wine filled the walls, a variety of corks, stoppers, and other items for the wine enthusiast for sale in one corner. One doorway revealed a ramp leading away toward a wine bottling room.

Riley answered, "I valued what they stood for. Pride, excellence, doing the right thing. The Semper Fi thing made a mark on me."

"Semper Fi-always faithful, right?" She'd seen that tattooed on his muscular back.

"Yeah. I don't like people who are up to bulls.h.i.+t, or bullies. In high school, I beat up any guys f.u.c.king with a smaller guy, even if those guys weren't messing with me."

She chuckled, eyes bright. "I can see you doing that."

He gestured at the wine pourer, who knew to start at the top of the list, pouring each a more generous mouthful than normal because Riley was technically one of the bosses. The Marine said, "People looked up to me for it, though that wasn't why I was doing it. They were always asking me if I wanted to be a cop, but I got fixated on the Marines after watching war movies. Friends sometimes compared me to the guys in them."

"What did your family think of you joining?"

"They weren't too happy, but I felt the need to do something with my life instead of writing parking tickets."

Jordan laughed. "I can't see you doing that."

"I tease my cousin Ryan about being the Comus sheriff. I can tell he's kind of wis.h.i.+ng he'd done more than just that."

"Maybe you two should form some sort of security company or something. Bust heads together."

Riley perked up. "Interesting idea."

"It doesn't seem like security for all things Kendall gives you enough work to do. Not a bad thing, I guess."

"There really isn't much needed except when KMS does the wet T-s.h.i.+rt contest, but that's not often. It's not like there's a lot of crime or violence around here. Small town."

"A place with no violence sounds like a great thing."

"You don't find it boring?"

"Not in the least. It's kind of nice."

"A glowing endors.e.m.e.nt," he teased. Riley wondered if she'd come back after this mission was over, but he was used to taking things one day at a time with a woman. It'd be premature under ordinary circ.u.mstances, but with death in their near future, getting too attached wasn't wise. The thought of her demise pained him and he swore he'd do everything he could to protect Jordan. But he knew that his first priority was family, and that meant coming back alive. A sense of growing conflict-to save her even if it meant risking himself-made him ask the server for a full gla.s.s of a favorite merlot, letting Jordan do the tasting by herself. Riley knew every last varietal.

She munched on a cracker and asked, "Did you like being a Marine? You're out now."

"I loved it but I didn't want to push my luck anymore."

"I saw the scars. When did you get shot?"

Riley shook his head, not wanting to go over details. "Long story." He smirked. "Cla.s.sified."

She began tickling him. "Maybe I'll torture it out of you!"

He showed no signs of reacting even though her fingers did indeed tickle. That had infuriated more than one woman as it now did to Jordan. She tried harder to get a response beyond his smile.

"I guess I'll have to try something more persuasive later," she concluded.

"I guess you will." He planted lips on her and felt a surge of pleasure that made his c.o.c.k stir, but he tried not to get carried away and leaned back, noting the sparkle in her eyes.

"I a.s.sume your family was happy to have you back?" she asked, seeming wistful.

Riley wondered if she was thinking of how her own family might respond if she were ever able to see them again. That was something he might be able to give her if they succeeded in Paris. "Yeah, and the moment I saw them again, I swore I'd never go for too long. I'd seen them on leave, of course, but their relief that I was done was hard to miss. I thought I'd be done with violent stuff, but then we had some adventures around here with Tristan and Victoria being kidnapped."

Her eyebrows shot up. "What? Are you kidding?"

Riley told her about the stolen bike ring working out of what was now Kendall Motorsports. The operators had swiped Tristan's bike when he came home to visit, which led to Riley finding and following the thief in an attempt to get the bike back. Not to mention helping rescue them, though the pair did pretty well rescuing themselves.

He concluded, "I have to admit that I enjoyed shooting some of the guys trying to hurt them."

Seeing him smile, she laughed. "Do you like shooting people?"

He shrugged. "If they've got it coming, yeah."

"That does make a difference, doesn't it? That's why I always wanted to know why a mission was ordered. Did you ever know about yours?"

"Not really. Not enough to make a judgement call. You have to trust your boss."

"Ah!" Jordan downed her next wine tasting. "That's exactly the problem I had. No trust."

"Seems you were right not to trust them, doesn't it?"

"You got that right. Forget what I said earlier about not being sure we should go to Paris. I want to go kill the b.a.s.t.a.r.d. Don't let me get soft."

"I'll let you be soft only in the right place," he said, smirking as he discreetly ran one hand up her thigh.

She purred, "You can let my heart get soft after we're done in Paris. You keep me hard in the meantime, and I'll make you hard." She grabbed his crotch and they both broke into laughter.