Reckless Heat: A Hostile Operations Team Prequel (8 page)

I
’m
angry and hurt and cursing myself at the same time. Oh, he’s right that I didn’t say I wanted anything else. I was so sure that everything would be perfect after we made love for the first time. So damn sure.

What an idiot I am. I’m in love with Matt Girard. Have been for years. And even though he is my first lover, even though we were just as close as it’s possible for two people to be, his view of me hasn’t changed.

Or hasn’t changed
much.
I’m not a little sister to be protected anymore. I’m a friend with benefits. A fuck buddy. Someone you can have sex with when there isn’t anyone else available.

Oh, it hurts. It hurts so much.

I get into the front seat and cross my arms, staring out the window at the darkness. My eyes are blurry. Matt gets out of the Escalade. Just as I start to wonder what he’s doing, he gets inside again and puts it into gear. I told him to take me back to the party, but I don’t know if he’s going to listen to me or not.

If he takes me home, I’ll scream. I’m too raw to process this by myself in my room just yet. I want the party. I want people and laughter—and alcohol. I need to dull this pain. I need distraction.

How can I have been so wrong? How can I believe we are meant to be when he consistently proves we aren’t? What if he’s right and I’m wrong?

I’m surprised when he drives back to the party instead of to my house. I half expected him to ditch me at home in some sort of misguided effort to protect me. Too late for that.

When we reach the party, I’m out of the Escalade before he’s even stopped fully.

“Evie!” He shouts at me but I keep going. I run up the steps and inside. The party’s in full swing, and people are even drunker than they were when I left.

I go over to the fridge and pull out a wine cooler. I need this damn thing so much.

“Oh my God.”

I jump at the sound of the voice, whirling to find Julie standing there looking up at me.

“What?” I ask, an edge to my voice that says I might burst into tears at any minute.

Julie moves closer, pitching her voice low. “Honey, you look like you’ve been, well, what you’ve probably been doing. You need to go in the bathroom and fix your hair and makeup before too many people notice.”

I look at the room. Most people are preoccupied with what they’re doing, but a few of the girls are looking at me. Some smirk knowingly.

I head for the bathroom, Julie on my heels.

“Well, was it any good? What happened? Did he really…?”

I reach the bathroom, which is thankfully unoccupied, and stand just inside it with a hand on the door when I turn back to Julie.

“Yes, it was good. Yes, he really did. But Jules…” Here I have to suck down the tears welling inside. “Let’s just say nothing has changed.”

“Oh Evie, I’m so sorry. He’s an asshole if he doesn’t cherish you.”

“Well, he doesn’t, so I guess he is definitely an asshole.”

An asshole I still love, in spite of how hurt I am. This little voice in my head keeps telling me it’s my fault. I should have tried harder, or done more. I should have made my feelings clear. I rushed it when I should have waited, maybe until he came home on vacation from college.

So many damn things I should have, could have, would have done—and I don’t know if any of them would have changed the outcome. I’ve been spectacularly deluded about what was going to happen when I gave myself to Matt.

I close the bathroom door and stand inside with my back to it, breathing deeply. My reflection definitely says I’ve been rolling around in a bed or somewhere. My makeup is smeared beneath my eyes and my hair is messy. And, crap, I left my purse in Matt’s car.

There’s a knock on the door a few seconds later, and I suck in a breath. “Occupied,” I call out.

“It’s me,” Julie says. “I have your purse.”

I open the door and take it gratefully, not even caring how she got it from Matt. Then I set about fixing my hair and makeup as best I can. Difficult when my eyes are so red with the tears I keep swiping away, but I persevere. I drink the entire wine cooler and I pee, wincing at the tenderness between my legs.

Great, now I have a reminder of what I did with Matt. Who knows how long it will last, though I feel like I’ll be sore for a while…

When I finally feel I can reappear, I march out of the bathroom with my head held high. Yeah, I just lost my virginity. Yeah, it was pretty amazing.

Julie is sitting with some of the other girls, and they’re laughing about something. I join them. I deliberately do not look at Matt. I feel him looking at me from across the room, but I am not going to make eye contact.

Julie nudges me. “I don’t know what happened, but he’s over there slamming back the whiskey like he’s pissed off about something.”

I don’t care. Let him get drunk. Let him make an ass of himself. It’s not my problem. I just pray he won’t attempt to drive home.

Missy Sue leans forward into the circle of girls, her eyes glowing as they land on me. “So how was it, Evie? Is he as good as all the girls say he is?” She cuts her gaze to Matt for a second. “Dude, what I wouldn’t give to have Matt Girard naked somewhere.”

I blink at her. Well, hell, what had I expected anyway? It had to be kind of obvious. I left with Matt over an hour ago, and then I returned with messy hair and smeared makeup. I swig back some of the wine cooler.

“He definitely is,” I say, realizing all the girls are watching me expectantly. Eagerly. Apparently, getting down and dirty with Matt Girard is to be envied.

Missy Sue’s eyes gleam. “Details, Evie. Details.”

I force a laugh. My heart is still too raw for that. “Now that’s something you’ll have to find out for yourself,” I say. “Go ask him. I’m sure he’ll whisk you off in his car somewhere.”

Missy Sue looks disappointed as she cuts her eyes over to where he’s standing. “I can’t do that. I’d be too afraid he’d tell me no.”

“Nah,” I drawl, taking a drink. “He’s easy. He’ll screw anything that moves.”

And that, I realize with a sinking heart, is utterly the truth. He took my virginity because I offered it. Not because he cared. Not because he wanted more from me than my friendship. I offered sex and he accepted. It wasn’t special or monumental for him. It meant nothing at all.

One week from now, he’s leaving town. But I’ve already lost him. I just didn’t realize it until it was too late.

I
look
at my room one last time. My suitcases are packed and this is it. I’m finally getting the fuck out of here. For good. And yet my heart aches too. It wasn’t all bad, was it? My mama was a wonderful woman and we had a real home when she was alive. There were times when I loved living here, where the bayou calls to me and the land is in my ancestors’ blood and therefore in mine. This house is so much more than four walls that only contain sorrow and pain.

It had once—many times, I am sure—contained laughter and love as well.

And it probably will again someday.

I close the door and go downstairs. My sister is there, and Mrs. Simpson. My father is not. Evie is not. My heart pinches tight as I think of her.

What a fucking mess I made of that situation. I ruined our friendship, a friendship that existed for years and went through a lot. She was there for me when my mama died. She comforted me and distracted me from my father’s rages as I got older, though I never let her know what my father was really like. I didn’t want anyone to know.

Even when we grew apart, I knew Evie was there if I needed her.

But I ruined it all. I took her virginity in the backseat of my daddy’s Cadillac, and then I got drunk and stupid and spilled the details to people I shouldn’t have.

It’s been one week since the party, one week since that night, and I haven’t spoken to Evie again. I thought about calling her. I wanted to call her. But I didn’t know what to say, so I finally erased her number from my phone and told myself to get over it and move on.

She was over it. She ran from me when I took her back to the party, and she didn’t look at me the rest of the evening. I carried her purse inside because she forgot it in the car, but her cousin took it from me and I never got to talk to her.

Evie hasn’t called me or spoken to me since that night. So it isn’t just me, right? It’s her too. She’s letting me know she’s finished with me.

It leaves me empty inside, but I deserve it. I’m used to feeling empty. Used to fucking things up. Candy hadn’t loved me though she pretended she did. Evie thought she loved me but she really didn’t. I’m not lovable. I’m fucked up and self-centered. I don’t deserve to be loved, not like that.

Christina loves me, but that’s different. Mrs. Simpson loves me. Bonnie does too. They’ve been here since I was a baby, and they forgave me for my excesses. I can see it in their kind eyes and warm smiles. I may not deserve it, but I have it anyway.

I say my good-byes, complete with hugs and tears from the women, and then I get into my car and drive down the long drive for the last time. Well, the last time for a very long time. I’m not coming back on breaks. There’s nothing to come back for. Maybe one day I will. But I don’t know when.

I drive through town, my gut churning as I pass the beauty shop. I’m not planning to do it, but I find myself turning onto the street that will take me toward Evie’s house. I drive through the historic section of town where the lawns are wide, the trees are shady, and the houses are old and stately.

I pass over the railroad tracks and into the shabbier side of town. These houses are old too, smaller, the lawns not as wide or stately. There’s a movement to put this section into the historic district, but it hasn’t gained enough support yet.

I hesitate at Evie’s street. My car is distinctive, noticeable. I’m planning to sell it since I can’t have a car at West Point, but for now it’s the only car I have. I sit at the end of the street for long minutes, until a car pulls up behind me and honks.

My heart kicks higher. I want to turn onto Evie’s street, roll past her house one last time. Maybe she’ll see me and come outside. Maybe we can have one last talk, one last good-bye.

But I’m a coward. The car behind me honks again, and I mash the gas, going straight rather than turning.

I’m angry with myself, and then I’m not. As I drive toward the city limits, I feel like a weight is lifted. This is it. The end of my life in Rochambeau and the start of it somewhere else. I can’t take all this baggage with me. I can’t keep trying to push the boulder up the hill and hope it doesn’t crush me on the way back down.

I drag in a breath and then another, feeling lighter the farther I get from town.

Evie will be all right. Hell, she’ll be better than all right. Without me in the picture, she’ll move on and get over her crush. She’ll have a good life. She’ll find a great guy, get married, have kids someday.

Maybe what happened between us is for the best. She’s seen me for what I am, and she’s moved on. It’s time I moved on too.

I step on the gas and drive faster, flying toward Baton Rouge and the highway that will take me into another life…

T
he story
of Matt and Evie doesn’t end here. If you want to find out what happens when they meet again, the story continues in
Hot Pursuit, Book 1 of the Hostile Operations Team Series
. You can download your complimentary copy
HERE
or keep reading for a sample.

©
2
013 by
Lynn Raye Harris

H
e took her innocence
. He broke her heart. He's the only one who can save her life...

T
en years
ago Army Captain Matt Girard did something he shouldn’t. His best friend offered him her virginity--and he took it. Then he left town and he’s never looked back. Until now.

M
att still makes
Evie Baker’s heart pound, but she wants nothing to do with him--especially since he’s only home for a short visit. She’s had enough of men who lie and promise things they don’t deliver. But when her sister goes missing and her ex-boyfriend turns up dead, she’s in desperate need of Matt’s military black ops skills to save the day.

W
ith time running out
, Matt puts everything on the line--his career, his future, his heart. Even if it means sacrificing all he’s worked for, he won’t let Evie down this time. Because sometimes the reward is worth the price--especially when it’s the one woman he’s never been able to forget…

T
he music changed
, the beat slowing. Evie took a step backward instinctively, but Matt caught her hand and held it tight. She tugged once, then stopped. They faced each other across a few feet of space. Around them, couples began to slide together, fitting into each other.

Evie’s pulse beat harder. Her skin sizzled where they touched, his big hand engulfing hers, his palm calloused in a way that shocked her. He was a Girard—rich, entitled—and he had a workman’s hands.

“One dance.”

Her insides melted a little more. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

But what she really wanted to do was say yes.

His eyes were bright. “Why not? We’re adults now, Evie. No one’s getting hurt here.”

He said it like it was so easy, but was it really? Wasn’t she still vulnerable on some level? She was down on her luck right now, feeling like a loser, and here he was, the same gorgeous, cocky, beautiful creature he’d always been.

Except, no, he was more than that, wasn’t he? There was something behind his smile now. Something dark and sad. Pain flared in his gray eyes and then was gone so quickly she wondered if she’d imagined it.

It shocked her. She suddenly wanted to know what had happened to him. She’d heard about him being held captive by terrorists. How could he not be affected by something like that? Of all the things she’d expected Matt Girard to do with his life, putting himself into danger had not even occurred to her. He had everything. Why would he want to risk his life that way?

She remembered when his mother had died. He’d been twelve. Mama had taken her to the wake out at Reynier’s Retreat. There were so many people crowding the beautiful rooms of the mansion. The house was heavy with sadness and thick with grief, and it had scared her. She’d escaped to run down the wide lawn. She’d known where to find Matt. He’d been curled inside the hollow of a tree they’d found a few years before.

He’d been dressed in a black suit, his dark hair slicked back carefully, his gray eyes wide and wounded as he looked up at her. Her heart had lifted into her throat then. She’d only been eleven, but she’d felt something in that moment that rocked her world—and would continue to rock her world until she was sixteen and shattered by his casual cruelty.

But not that day. That day, she’d slid into the hollow and sat down beside him. When she’d put her arms around him, he’d turned his face into the crook of her neck and wept.

Evie sucked in a breath. How could she walk away from him now, knowing there was something behind those eyes? He was hurting again, and she didn’t know why.

“One dance, Evangeline,” he said softly when she hesitated. “Make a soldier’s night. I just got back from the desert a few days ago. I’d like to dance with a pretty woman and forget about that hellhole for a while.”

Evie swallowed. “That’s not fair.”

He grinned. “Because you can’t say no now?”

She nodded.

“Good for me then.”

“Just one dance and we go our separate ways, got it?” Because she didn’t want to feel this tangle of emotions again. This tiny blossoming in her heart that said she was going to be in so much trouble if she didn’t shut it down quickly.

“If that’s what you want.” His voice was rough.

He took her other hand then, ran his palms up her arms to her shoulders. Little sparks of sensation swirled in her belly, lighting her up like the Fourth of July. He pulled her into his arms right there on the edge of the dance floor.

Evie braced her hands against his chest, pressed back when he tried to bring her closer. It was already overwhelming to be so close to him. To feel his heat and hardness next to her body.

To feel everything she’d once wanted so much.

“I don’t bite,” he murmured. “Unless you want me to.”

G
et
your complimentary copy now by clicking:
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T
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