For Honor: A Secret Baby Military Millionaire Romance (Elite Force Protectors)

The next big bump in the road made my arms fly up into the air and I used the momentum to get the strap of my camera bag over my head and around my shoulder. I clutched it close to my body and even though I knew we couldn’t be far from the Green Zone, I started to become just a bit anxious. I couldn’t let it show, though.

I took a big breath and closed my eyes. I visualized the little yoga studio I used to practice at back home in California. That peaceful place seemed a world away from where I was now and I almost laughed out loud at the irony of it all. I had volunteered to come here—actually no, I had hounded my editor until he let me go. I had to… for dad.

And now here I was in the back of a rickety pickup truck, clutching my camera bag, and hoping for two things: one, that I would prove myself over the next three months as a reputable photojournalist, just like my dad was and two, that I would not die.

Stop being dramatic, Honor, I thought to myself as loud gunfire erupted in the not too far distance.

I felt the truck accelerate as yet another series of blasts went off. The only other female journalist started to cry even louder and looked around frantically—as though she wanted to hop off the truck and be magically transported back home.

Sorry girl, I thought, it doesn’t work that way. We chose to be here. The truck swerved violently again and I hoped that the Green Zone wasn’t far off. But I didn’t let it show.

Six

Honor

One Month Ago

“Cooper please don’t make this any harder than it has to be,” I pleaded.

Why did I think he would take my leaving well?

We’d been going round and around on this ridiculous carousel of emotions—on and off again, on and off again, on and off again. Of course change is not easy, to put it mildly, it’s terrifying, especially where I was headed off to. But I had to do this, for Dad, my country, heck, if I’m honest, I had to do this for me.

“Jump and the net will appear,” that’s what Dad always used to say.

“You’re being incredibly selfish,” that’s what Cooper seemed to be saying more and more of these days.

“Please try to understand,” I begged again. I took his hands.

It always seemed to be me doing the comforting, the reassuring, so much for my Prince Charming, not that I needed one, but once in awhile it would be nice if…

“Honor? Hello!” Cooper snapped my attention back to our conversat

ion.

I looked around our little apartment—the one we had shared for two years. Cooper was working in computer programming and I had graduated the previous year from photojournalism school. I was lucky enough to find a job right out of college at an online news publication that covered world events from a “raw” perspective and I loved every second of it. The company was small but who knows what could happen in the future. All I knew was this job was a critical stepping stone in my career, so when the chance to go on a three month trip to the Green Zone came up I couldn’t say no and neither could my editor—I had begged him day in and day out to let me go. He finally laughed, threw his hands up, and gave in.

“Go make us proud,” he said. “I know your Dad would be.”

I beamed.

“Honor!” Cooper huffed. “You’re there already, in your mind. I can tell.”

He wasn’t wrong.

Of course I felt guilty. Cooper had been there by my side, through all the teenage milestones and of course all the “firsts”. He had even been there with me after I lost my dad. But did that mean I owed him the rest of my life?

“In a word, no,” my mom had said. She was always supportive of me. “You won’t get another chance like this, Honor. You need to go for it.”

Still, Cooper was my first love and my best friend. But I couldn’t deny that it was comfortable, it had become predictable and when I looked at him I could see the rest of my life laid out before me: safe, secure, and utterly devoid of surprises. A lot of girls would have jumped at the chance to be with Cooper, but increasingly, I was feeling suffocated.

“He’s Chicken Caesar,” said Libby frankly.

Libby was my absolute best friend in the whole world. She was the sister I’d never had. Straightforward, sometimes blunt and totally offensive (only if you didn’t know her that well). She was also effortlessly gorgeous although she really didn’t seem to notice. We bonded in grade school because kids made fun of our names: Honor and Liberty, and we’ve been besties ever since.

“Chicken Caesar?” I asked.

Libby nodded, “what do you get at a restaurant you’ve never been to before? What do you get when you want to play it safe? What is pretty much always at least moderately tasty? Not too bad, not too good, just always the same no matter what.”