Gunner (Ride Series Second Generation Book 4) Read online

  He blew out an audible breath. “You’ve got your work cut out for you,” he warned.

  “I’m up for it,” I swore, and I meant it.

  “Fine,” he agreed finally. “But if you hurt her again, I’ll break your neck.”

  I smiled. The Jackson men were nothing if not protective of Emmie. “You’ve got a deal.”

  Chapter 3

  EMMIE

  “What the hell?” I muttered, glancing in the rearview mirror of Mason’s Rover for third time since I’d pulled out of the grocery store parking lot. The same black sedan had been following me all morning. At first I’d thought I was paranoid. But now, I was sure.

  As expected, Mason had been gone when I’d woken up. Nevertheless, I was still shocked by how quiet his massive house had felt as I’d roamed around, ignoring the countless texts and missed calls from family and friends back home.

  I appreciated their concern, but I was determined to create some space for myself to work through things. Or one thing, one man, in particular.

  I was exhausted after a fitful night. The irony wasn’t lost on me that it wasn’t the trauma of being kidnapped and trapped in a shed where I thought I’d die that had me losing sleep. Instead it was dark brooding eyes, that masculine scent uniquely his and yet universally appealing, and his baritone voice that never failed to liquify me from the inside out that had me tossing and turning.

  Damn him all to hell. I’d crossed state lines to escape him, but he’d followed me in my dreams.

  It was with that thought that I’d taken Mason’s advice and left the house in search of a much-needed distraction. I’d very briefly considered a hike before remembering that I and the outdoors didn’t go together, especially after my experience in the woods just days before. I didn’t want to deal with too many people, especially with my face still looking the way it did, so shopping was out. Feeling lost both literally and figuratively, for a while I’d just driven. Finally, deciding junk food and a Riverdale marathon was as good a cure as any, I’d made a quick run to the grocery store, frustratingly thwarted by my mysterious stalker, and was now on my way back to Mason’s.

  With a very unwelcome companion on my tail.

  I turned into Mason’s private drive and sighed when the black sedan kept driving. My relief was short-lived, however, when Mason’s house came into view, surrounded by news vans and reporters who jumped to attention as I drove up.

  “What is this?” I muttered to myself in bewilderment. I glanced around in desperate need of escape and found I was quickly surrounded by people pointing cameras and phones in my face from all angles. News vans blocked access to his garage, forcing me to park on the street.

  There was nothing left to do but face it. I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and pulled on the door handle.

  When I exited the SUV, flashbulbs and voices hit my eyes and ears in a chaotic onslaught.

  “How long have you been dating Mason Jackson?”

  “How did you snag Denver’s most elusive bachelor?”

  “Did he give you those bruises?”

  I’d planned to ignore them and to head straight for the house, but the last question demanded an answer.

  I spun on a heel, my finger pointed in the general direction of where the question had come from. “Mason would never lay a hand on me, and he’s my little brother, you dipshits. Maybe you should do your research,” I advised coolly.

  The stunned silence that followed would have been comical in different circumstances.

  “He’s away at a game, and I assure you, I’m a very boring subject, so I’d suggest you all pack up and be on your way,” I added with more confidence than I felt. Having cameras and cell phones pointed at my face was more than I’d bargained for. Was this what Mason dealt with on a regular basis? It felt more like a nightmare than a dream come true to me.

  With one final glare in their general direction, I stalked for the house, head held high, my hand shaking as I input the code Mason had given me and unlocked the front door.

  When it slammed shut behind me, I sagged against it in relief.

  Suddenly my escape from reality wasn’t as relaxing as I’d hoped.

  After a few moments spent collecting myself, I headed for the kitchen, grabbing two beers before heading up the staircase on a mission toward a hot bath.

  Half an hour later, I was blissfully relaxed as I soaked in Mason’s massive tub. I was on my second beer and feeling pretty good about the world overall when my phone rang for what felt like the hundredth time.

  I groaned aloud, far from ready to leave my bubbly cocoon. When my phone silenced, only to begin ringing again, I did just that, grumbling to myself the entire time.

  “Emmie, what the fuck? Why haven’t you been answering?” Mason’s voice was laced with concern and anger.

  “Because I was trying to unplug,” I defended. “What’s wrong?”

  “What’s wrong?” he demanded. “Your face is plastered all over every gossip column in town. My publicist called me. I don’t know how the fuck those sharks got so close to my house, and whoever allowed that to happen is fucking fired,” he growled.

  I’d never heard my brother so upset; he was typically very even-tempered.

  He took a deep breath, trying to calm down. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” I assured him. “I was just taking a bath. I’m totally Zenned out, promise.”

  “Well, that might be about to change,” he warned.

  My brow creased with speculation. “How so?”

  He sighed, and I could almost hear him begin to pace as he always did when he was stressed. “Gunner was already on his way to you, Em. He wanted to make sure you were with me and you were good. After you wouldn’t answer your goddamn phone, I gave him the gate and house codes. I’d expect he’s arriving any minute. He saw the coverage and is on a fucking tear.”

  “What?” I shrieked, looking down at my naked body dripping all over Mason’s floor. In my haste to answer the phone, I hadn’t even grabbed a towel. “Well, that’s just perfect,” I muttered dryly.

  “I know you guys have your issues,” Mason replied, his tone now quiet and calm, the one I was used to. “But he cares a hell of a lot about you, Emmie. He’s been frantic trying to get in touch with you. Whatever happened, whatever it is, maybe—you should hear him out,” he suggested.

  “Whose side are you on?” I demanded.

  “The side that wants to see my sister happy,” he replied without delay.

  “Well, that doesn’t include him,” I snapped. “I have to go.”

  Angry at what felt like an outright betrayal, I hurled my phone toward the bed, already feeling guilty for yelling at Mason. He only ever wanted what was best for everyone, it was just the kind of man he was—and the boy he’d been.

  “Fuck,” I murmured, frozen in place as to what to do next.

  “Emmie!” Gunner’s deep bellow echoing through the house sent me into action. When Mason had said he’d be arriving any minute, he hadn’t been kidding. I cursed myself for not answering my phone earlier.

  I hightailed it for the master bath in desperate search of a towel.

  “Emmie!” he called again, his voice closer.

  “Don’t come in!” I exclaimed frantically, hitting the marble floor and losing my footing on the water trail I’d left behind.

  Before I knew it, my feet were up in the air, my back and head hitting the ground with a jarring thud.

  “Emmie?” When his voice sounded again, it was as though through water.

  “Don’t come in,” I protested weakly, feeling like I might vomit.

  “Fuck.” I heard him drop to his knees beside me as I squeezed my eyes shut. “Emmie?”

  “I’m okay,” I managed. “Oh my god. Please don’t tell me I’m still naked.”

  A second later, I felt the telltale softness of terrycloth drape over my body. “You’re not,” he replied, and I could swear I heard him smile.

 
; “Asshole,” I grumbled.

  “Open your eyes, babe. I need to make sure you’re okay.”

  “I don’t need to open them, because this isn’t happening. I’m actually just asleep, and this is some horrible nightmare.”

  His large callused hand swept gently over my head. “Open your eyes, Em.”

  I knew what I’d find when I opened them. Fathomless dark eyes full of intelligence and torment, framed with thick lashes. Full lips that only formed a smile when he attempted to hide the darkness those of us who were truly paying attention saw. The strong jaw, always clenched when he looked at me. Muscular shoulders that tapered into a chiseled, tattooed body that I’d fantasized about way too much. But it was the heart he protected from most, all while giving himself so freely to those he cared about, that made him truly extraordinary. He’d do anything for any of the Knights, had proved it many times over. And I knew beneath his fierce exterior lay something vulnerable, something he’d never let me see. It was knowing all of this that had me hesitating, had me wishing I could keep my eyes closed forever.

  “Emmie,” he repeated, forcefully now.

  When I opened my eyes, for a second my vision was blurry and then he came into focus, more beautiful than I’d feared.

  “I’m fine. I need to get dressed,” I rasped, my hands clutching the towel that he’d draped over me. I always felt some measure of vulnerability around Gunner, but this was something else entirely.

  His eyes scanned my face, taking in the bruising that was still prominent before focusing on my eyes, likely checking for a concussion.

  I turned my head away, unnerved by his scrutiny. “I didn’t hit my head that hard,” I muttered. “Can you leave so I can get dressed?”

  “Let me help you up.”

  “No.”

  “So fucking stubborn,” he muttered in frustration as I clutched the towel tighter.

  His comment had my temper roaring to life. “You don’t want to leave? Fine.” I shoved his hand out of the way, sitting up with a wince, clutching the towel to my front, knowing my back and the top of my ass were now exposed. “I guess I don’t have anything to worry about. There’s nothing you want to see here anyway, right?” I challenged.

  His nostrils flared, his dark eyes growing impossibly darker. “You couldn’t be more wrong about that,” he growled, reaching over to cup my elbow. “Now, let me help you up.”

  Just wanting this nightmare to be over, with his help, I stood up, feeling slightly dizzy when I did. He undoubtedly noticed, but rather than comment as I expected, he averted his eyes while I rearranged my towel so it wrapped around my body and before I could protest, lifted me up in his arms.

  “What are you doing?” I demanded in horror as he strode from the room.

  “Which room are you staying in?” he growled by way of answer.

  “Down the hall to the right,” I replied quietly, my eyes on his chest, avoiding looking up at him. He was way too close and smelled way too good.

  A moment later, he was laying me gently on the guest room bed, pulling the sheets over my body.

  I sighed in relief at finally being adequately covered.

  “I’ll get you something to wear. Is it all in here?” he asked gesturing toward the duffle bag and already moving to dig through it.

  “Gunner, stop,” I commanded with as much force as I could muster. “You just saw me fall on my ass, splayed out naked. I don’t need you digging through my stuff too.”

  The wobble in my voice irritated me. I wanted to be strong, forceful, but the lump in my throat betrayed me.

  I barely saw him move. One second, he was across the room, and the next he was hovering over me, his hands braced on either side of my head, staring down at me with such intensity it stole my breath.

  “All we do is hurt each other,” I murmured, closing my eyes in the only method of escape he was allowing me.

  He dropped his mouth to my ear, sending a jolt of heat toward my center. “You ran out on me, baby. That’s not happening again. You said I could have been the one. I am. I’m your fucking one. And I’m going to prove it to you.”

  Chapter 4

  GUNNER

  When my phone rang the next morning, I glanced over at Emmie, finding her still asleep. I’d refused to leave her the night before, worried she might have a concussion, and after checking on her several times throughout the night, neither of us had gotten much sleep.

  She hadn’t been happy about sharing a bed, even with me sleeping on top of the covers, but I’d learned my lesson about giving her space. Those days were over.

  “You got her?” Cole Jackson demanded by way of greeting as I stepped out into the hall and closed the bedroom door behind me.

  “I do,” I clipped as I strode down the hall into Mason’s office. As my prez and Emmie’s oldest brother, I wasn’t sure how he’d take the news that I was holed up alone with her.

  The beat of silence that ensued had me braced for impact. “Good.” His response surprised me. “Gun, I’ll save you the threat of killing you if you hurt her and assume since you’re there, you’re serious about her and ready to stop dicking around. I’ll cut to the chase of asking for you to help bring her home. Everyone’s worried about her.”

  Rather than scare me as it may have in the past, the gravity of his request had resolve coursing through me. Emmie’s family was trusting me to take care of her, and that wasn’t a responsibility I’d ever take lightly.

  “I will, but it’s gotta be on her terms. That might mean tomorrow, it might be longer,” I warned. The last thing I wanted to do was push her too hard when her trust in me was all but nonexistent.

  “Agreed,” he rumbled. “Gotta jet. Let me know when you’re headed back. And, Gun? Thanks.”

  “No thanks needed,” I replied firmly. The truth of the matter was, I should be thanking him. For a man like Cole, whose code was ruled by honor, trust meant a lot. I wouldn’t take that for granted.

  I hung up and immediately went in search of my girl. Finding the bed now empty, it took me longer than it should have to track her down, what with Mason’s house being so ridiculously huge. I finally found her staring into the refrigerator, which by the looks of it was mostly empty. Even the simple sight of her wearing sleep shorts and a hoodie, her teeth biting at her luscious lower lip as she searched the shelves, had my dick lengthening in my pants.

  “Hungry?” I surmised, chuckling when she jumped in surprise and whirled to face me.

  “Could you not sneak up on me like that?” she snapped.

  “Baby, been standing here a while.” I grinned. “Doesn’t look like there’s much there.” I cocked my head toward the fridge.

  “No,” she groused. “That’s why I was headed to the store yesterday. All Mason has is protein powder, eggs, and lots of meat. He doesn’t even have pasta. And what kind of barbarian doesn’t have cereal or milk?”

  I didn’t think it wise to add that Mason’s fridge and pantry weren’t far off from mine. My house was getting stocked with all her favorites as soon as we got home.

  “Make me a list. I’ll go to the store,” I told her.

  Her eyes widened in surprise. “Really?”

  I stepped into her space, my hands wandering to her hips where I gripped her, fighting the urge to lift her up on the counter and press myself against her. No woman had ever made me feel the fervor I did for her. She made me feel alive.

  “Em, you’ll learn pretty fucking quick there’s a hell of a lot more I’d do for you than a simple trip to the store,” I murmured as I stared into her gorgeous eyes, the bruises on her face more faded today. I wished not for the first time I’d been able to kill the bastard who’d caused them. “Now, what sounds good?” I asked.

  “Um, I’m not sure. I’ve never been great at lists. Maybe I should just come with you,” she offered when I pulled away.

  “No.” My answer was swift and firm. “I’m not giving those reporters another chance to harass you. You stay here, relax. I kn
ow what you like,” I assured her.

  Her brows wrinkled in confusion. “How do you know what I like?”

  “Em, I pay attention to everything you do. Everything that matters to you. I know what you like to drink—mostly beer, sometimes whiskey. You hate wine. You’ll eat pretty much anything if it has cheese on it.” I grinned affectionately. “I know that red blouse of yours is one of your favorites, but just so you know, that little black halter is one of mine. I know everything about you that a person can from the outside.” I dropped my forehead to hers, gratified by her intake of breath at the innuendo in my words.

  She placed a hand to my chest, pushing me back in frustration. “But you always gave me shit when I wore that halter,” she protested.

  I cupped her jaw, my thumb stroking over her cheek. “Well, I’m a selfish bastard, and I didn’t want you looking so hot without being able to claim you. Now….” I shrugged. “You can wear the damn thing every day if you want, so long as you’re with me.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You’re a caveman.”

  I dipped down, biting her neck gently. “Your caveman,” I amended. “Now, I’m gonna run to the store. I’ll be sure to stick to the inner aisles, away from anything green.” I winked. “Be back.”

  And with that I left her standing in the kitchen, a look of sweet shock on her face.

  I’d just arrived at the store when my phone vibrated in my pocket.

  Frannie’s going in for emergency c-section.

  Maddox’s text had me racing back to the Rover Mason had said I could borrow. My friend and fellow Knights member was expecting twins with his wife Francesca but not for several more weeks.

  We’ll be on the next flight. I responded swiftly, already firing up the engine of the SUV and hightailing it back to Mason’s.

  When I arrived, Emmie was already in motion, her eyes wild as she dragged her duffle bag down the stairs. “We have to go,” she gasped frantically.

  “I know,” I assured her. “I asked Mason to get us on the next flight. His manager is on it. I’ll run up and grab my stuff. We’ll take his Rover to the airport.”