Their Masquerade (The American Soldier Collection 6)

“Well, I was going to get a ride from Randy, but considering that Axel and Quentin pissed him off, I’m stranded.”

Deacon placed his arm over her shoulder and started walking her away from Quentin and Axel.

“We’ll give you a ride. We were supposed to get together later on anyway.”

She walked along with him, absorbing his cologne and the feel of his big, muscular arm over her shoulder. He pulled her into the nook of his arm and chest. She snuggled against him.

“I hope Randy hadn’t upset you. You seemed to be having a nice time,” he said, but she heard a hitch in Deacon’s voice. Was he jealous?

* * * *

Deacon hoped that Mariah couldn’t feel him shaking. He was angry, he was jealous, and he wanted to taste her just like Quentin had. It took seeing her with Randy and Randy caressing her hand, whispering to her, working on seducing her, to make Deacon wake up. As the one in the troop to calm everyone down and make them be rational, he knew he needed to step in and put out the fire. He hadn’t expected his own desires and wants to begin to instantly burn stronger. Mariah did that to him. He walked her toward the SUV.

Quentin opened the door for her and tipped his Stetson before she climbed in with Deacon’s assistance. She glared at Quentin and then looked at Axel as he stepped into the driver’s seat. He pulled off the black Stetson as Deacon scooted into the front seat next to her.

Her perfume filled the cabin of the SUV as Axel pulled out of the parking spot.

“Is Jeb home?” Quentin asked her.

“No. He had to go to the doctor’s and run some errands. Then I think he said something about his friend’s house for dinner. I was supposed to go out with a friend,” she told them. Deacon wondered what friend. Was it a woman or another guy? How were they going to stop her from dating, from seeing men? It suddenly became a necessity for him, and he understood Quentin’s motives in kissing her the other night.

“Who is the friend?” Axel asked from the backseat.

She swung around to face him.

“Like I would tell you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Quentin asked as he headed onto the long strip of roadway that connected the town to the outskirt of communities. Their place was five minutes from here and how Deacon wished they could bring her there. Some alone time would be perfect. Instead Quentin took the turn that led to Jeb’s house. They would be there in five minutes, by the speed Quentin was doing. The man was definitely nervous.

She looked up at Quentin. “I don’t need my big brothers sabotaging another date,” she stated with attitude and Deacon could feel his own blood pressure rising. He’d known his buddies long enough and well enough to sense when they were on edge. Right now, the three of them were in a combustible state.

“What went on back there with Randy?” Deacon asked as he adjusted his position in the front seat so he could see her eyes and her facial expression. “You seemed upset and as if you wanted to walk away from him.” When she looked down at her hands clasped on her lap he knew that Randy had said something to upset her.

“What did that asshole do?” Axel asked from behind her as he leaned forward in the seat. Quentin pulled into the driveway, and Deacon noticed that Jeb’s old truck wasn’t there. Mariah mentioned that Jeb would be out.

“It’s none of your business. Thanks for the ride,” she said and looked at Deacon to op

en the door and let her out. He waited a moment.

“If he said something to upset you, don’t forget it. Follow your gut. Maybe he’s not right for you.” She gave him such a sad expression he felt like an asshole and he didn’t even know why.

He found himself desperate to escape from the expression on her face. He opened the door and stepped out.

Quentin turned off the engine and Axel got out, too. She turned to look at them.

“Thank you for the ride.”

Quentin approached her and gently moved a stray strand of hair away from her face.

“Mariah?”

“No, Quentin. I don’t want to hear it.” She turned around, her high-heeled boots clicking and clacking on the walkway as she headed to the door. Quentin and Axel were on her heels as she unlocked the door and opened it up. Deacon followed as they all entered the house. She tossed her purse onto the couch and headed to the kitchen, but Quentin stopped her. He pulled her up against him.

“What did he say to you?”

She slapped her hands gently against his chest, and then pressed her forehead against it.

“It doesn’t matter. Please, Quentin. I can’t do this with you again. I can’t take it.”