Liz Johnson - Hazardous Holiday

Jackson Cole sounded like the type of guy who’d fly off the handle at any perceived slight. Not the type to plot and plan. It took patience and strategy to get three vans to run a specific car off the road. Men with those qualities didn’t usually throw temper tantrums when they didn’t get their way.

Besides, she still hadn’t answered one key question. “Why you? There are at least a dozen people in the office. Why’d he pick you?”

“I’m not entirely sure. Maybe because I was the one who told him Walt wouldn’t take a meeting with him. Or maybe because I was handy and he recognized my face.”

Zach nodded but kept silent for a long moment. There had to be more to this situation. Had she been privy to some information that Cole needed to keep a secret? Had she seen something in a file she wasn’t supposed to?

Maybe she didn’t even know what she wasn’t supposed to know.

But they’d figure it out. Together.

He slid his touch down the slender bones of her arm. At her hand, he pulled it into his, lacing their fingers and squeezing softly. Her hand fit so well into his grasp, petite and soft, just like the rest of her.

The urge to pull her into his arms nearly knocked him off his stool, but he wasn’t free to do that. They had signed a paper in the judge’s office that said they were man and wife. But that’s all she’d agreed to. And he wouldn’t push her for more. Not now.

Not ever.

Even if it nearly killed him.

He scrubbed his free hand down his face and looked away from her warm brown eyes.

He was all kinds of an idiot.

But he’d marry her again in a heartbeat if that’s what it took to help Aaron’s son. And he’d do anything to keep them both safe.

“First we have to call the police. Then I guess I’d better talk with Walt and see if he has any more information about Jackson Cole.” Her eyes widened and Zach could see she wasn’t pleased with the idea, but he had no intention of backing down. He was going to do whatever it took to protect her, whether she liked it or not.

* * *

This had been a terrible idea, but Kristi hadn’t been able to talk Zach out of it. After a quick and unhelpful call to Detective Sunny Diaz, who’d said she couldn’t help without license plates or models on the vans—neither of which they had—Zach had insisted they talk with Walt.

“It’s okay,” he said, his voice low as he stepped out of the car. He could probably feel the strain coming off her in waves.

He walked around the hood of the car, opened her door and held out his big, callused hand. The tips of his fingers were blunt, the skin toughened by hard work. Yet they were cupped in a gentle invitation.

Taking a deep breath, she put hers in his and let him pull her out.

“I don’t want to lose this job. Do you know how hard it is to find a part-time job with flexible hours and decent pay? If Cody is having a bad day, Walt lets me make up the hours another time. And if I get a call from Mrs. Drummond that Cody isn’t feeling well, I can leave at any time. I like working here, and they understand that Cody comes first. I don’t think there’s another job like this one.”

Also, she hadn’t told them that Zach was only sort of her spouse. They thought she was a military wife, and when they’d learned her husband was overseas they’d poured out to her. Bringing her food. Sharing a bonus check. Getting her car serviced. Offering her several extra days off when Zach returned.

But if they found out that they had a marriage built on necessity rather than love, would they feel like she’d taken advantage of their generosity?

Undoubtedly.

And she hadn’t exactly told Zach that her boss thought they were really married either.

This could be a disaster.

His smile turned solemn, but the light in his eyes didn’t disappear. “I won’t put it in jeopardy.” Taking a step closer and brushing an escaped curl behind her ear, he caught her gaze and held it. “You just have to remember that we’re married. Everyone loves meeting a military man back from overseas finally getting to spend time with his wife.”

“But where do I tell them you were?” She didn’t even know the answer to that.

“I’ll take care of it.” Squeezing her hand, which he still held, he winked at her. “Promise.”

Her stomach took a nosedive. They’d shared precisely twelve letters and four days together since they said their vows. But all the same, she trusted him. “All right.” With a deep breath and a sigh, she followed him into the five-story office building. The only sound in the elevator was the light jazz that made his eyebrows go up, as though asking if it could be any more cliché. “We don’t own the building. We just rent the top floor.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” There was a subtle twinkle in his eye that said he was teasing her. And it was an unfamiliar sensation. She hadn’t had inside jokes with anyone since Aaron, and it was a strange reminder of the little things she missed.

When the elevator doors dinged, she led the way and sent up a quick prayer that this wouldn’t be awkward.

Lord, let us find some answers and let me keep my job.

As soon as they reached the lobby, the office seemed to erupt. At the front desk, Ginger popped up, her eyes bright and hands outstretched. “Are you Zach?” Her voice carried and heads popped out of open doors up and down the hallway.

With a glance toward the boardroom, Kristi let out a breath of relief that there was no meeting on the other side of the glass wall for them to interrupt. Turning back to Ginger, she opened her mouth to introduce him, but she was too late.

He gave a little bow and shook her hand. “Chief Petty Officer Zach McCloud. It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”

Ginger was barely thirty-five, only a few years older than Zach himself. She cooed at his formality. “Oh, Zach. Call me Ginger—everyone does. We’ve just been so eager to meet you. Where were you stationed?”

Of course. Of course, Ginger would start with the question that even Kristi couldn’t answer.

But Zach’s grin amped up, and he offered a wink, as though sharing a secret. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. But I’m happy to be home.” He snagged an arm around Kristi’s waist. “With my family.”

Ginger chuckled but didn’t have time to respond as Teri and Trina, two blonde paralegals, descended on them. “Welcome home!” They spoke and moved as one, even though Teri was about eight inches taller than her counterpart.

Zach greeted them, too, all things friendly and jovial, but his arm never moved from around her middle. It was equal parts possessive and protective, and she let herself lean into his solid shoulder, trying not to analyze which part they were playing. Whatever he was doing was working. Everyone was at ease. Except for Kristi.

Then Walt arrived, his salt-and-pepper hair combed just right and a cautious smile in place. “Walt Jessup,” he said, quickly shaking Zach’s hand. “Thank you for your service.”

“It’s an honor, sir. Thank you for what you’ve done for Kristi.”

“Oh, she’s the one helping us. It’s hard to find such a smart, motivated employee for a part-time position.”

Her cheeks warmed at the praise. Clapping her hands over her face, she turned away. This wasn’t going so badly—overly flattering compliments aside. Everyone was friendly and happy to meet him, and true to his word, he hadn’t said anything worrisome.

Until he pulled Walt to the side. “I like the furniture in here. It looks new.”

Her insides twisted into a knot. That was a blatant lead-in to the real questions he wanted to ask.

Walt laughed it off. “Oh, we had a little trouble in here a few weeks back. I’m sure Kristi told you. A would-be client trashed the whole room. But it was a good excuse to redecorate.”