Speed King (Men of Action 1)

I stop dead, my heart in my throat and Achilles’ hand tightening around mine painfully. He glares at Ford. “You couldn’t help yourself?”

“May have flirted with that flight attendant a little too much. I asked for waiting transportation.” He’s not sorry at all.

“Payback is hell.” Achilles pulls me into a protective hold and gets us to the waiting airport trolley. He gives a few chin dips in appreciation, Talon showboating to all the attention.

Jim Powers is waiting in baggage claim, his eyes scanning through us and lighting with relief when they land on Major.

By the time we are off the trolley, Jim has his son in one of those dad-type bear hugs that has my eyes stinging. He takes turns with each of them, welcoming them home. Our bags are out first, and I suspect this has to do with Ford sweetening up the flight attendant.

Jim’s Escalade is parked curbside, which is usually prohibited, but the traffic attendant waves as we load up.

“Your mom and brothers are eager to see you—all of you,” Jim announces.

Major’s spoken to his parents daily and assured them he’s fine, but they insisted on being here when we arrived home.

Rightfully so.

I lay my head on Achilles’ shoulder and listen to the men carry on conversations about nothing in particular. Ford and Talon may have kept up a good front in the hospital each day, but they didn’t fool anyone. Sitting around with spotty television, playing board games and cards was boring. It didn’t bother me as much because my days were filled with phone calls, emails, texts, tons of Facetime sessions, and even a few impromptu meetings with Raven regarding an upcoming charity event that MJ Labels is sponsoring. My cousin Shayla got a hold of me on Christmas, hysterical that she was in the dark about everything in my life. We had a serious showdown about what was more important—her jet-setting around the globe, or my newfound love life.

I lost, and now she’s been in daily contact.

So, I’ve been busy.

But these are action men, and being cooped up drove them all crazy.

When we turn onto their street, my stomach goes into a flurry.

“What the fuck?” Achilles grinds out. “Is that my dad’s SUV?”

“Yes.” My answer is low, testing his next reaction.

“Why?”

“Because your parents want to see you.”

“Are your parents here?”

I peer up, nodding.

“We spent three days with them earlier this week. They know we’re all good. Why are they invading our home?”

“Ummm,” I glance in the rearview mirror, and Jim’s eyes are dancing with humor.

“It’s New Year’s Eve.”

“Oh, shit,” Ford draws out.

“Harley, what’s going on?”

“We’re kinda doing a homecoming-slash-Christmas and New Year’s Party.” The last part is lightning-fast and I brace.

The four guys share an expression that sends an icy chill down my spine. Jim’s shoulders bunch, and a low hiss slithers through the cab of the truck. “Ace—”

“No problem, pull around back,” Achilles instructs him gruffly.

“Honey, if you’re tired, they’ll all understand.”

He doesn’t answer, hopping out before we’re stopped. One arm goes under my knees and the other around my waist as he whisks me out of the truck. “Luggage,” he barks.

“We got it, Ace.”

“Put me down! You’re not allowed to lift heavy objects.” I squirm and wriggle.

“You’re not heavy.” He pounds his code and slams open his door.

“Why are you acting like a lunatic? We have a house full of people.”

“That’s a problem for me right now.” He stalks to his bed, setting me across it. “Don’t move.” His demand is curt and terse.

I’m stunned stupid at his anger and the whiplash of the last two minutes. He disappears into the closet and comes out clenching something in his hand.

Is that a box?

It is.

As soon as my brain makes the connection, all the air whooshes out of my lungs. My heart races to the ringing in my ears. I barely register him situating me to straddle his lap.

“Get us home, bundle you up, and drive us over to our lot with a bottle of champagne. Take you to where our bedroom will be. Tell you, you aren’t only the love of my life, but everything to me. I didn’t want to be rushed or cliché. You, me, all the time in the world. In that hospital room, every night while you slept beside me, I’d think about it, perfecting it in my head. I had a plan. A plan that did not include a house full of people invading before we even got here.”

“Achill—“ His name comes out scratchy around the boulder in my throat.

“I love you, Harley.”

“I love you, too. Always have.”

His beautiful dark eyes go molten, his lips skimming over mine. A cold metal pushing on my finger brings my focus to our hands.

He slips a ring to the base, and my breath comes in short, shallow pants. The center diamond shines and sparkles a brilliance so bright my eyes burn.