Protecting His Pregnant Lover (Southern Soldiers of Fortune Book 1) Read online

  “No.” Olive shook her head. “I guess I shouldn’t have just… left you like that. I figured you needed space.”

  “I shouldn’t have let you go,” Levon blurted before he could stop himself. He had realized his mistake the split-second after she ducked out of the shed, but that was still a split-second that could have cost them… both of them. And the baby…

  The baby. His baby. The thought was still revelatory, but he knew he’d have to adjust quickly. There would be no more fuck-ups on his watch, not where Olive was concerned.

  “That was a pretty good deflection,” Levon mentioned once their adrenaline died down. He loosened his grip on her, and Olive stood tall on her feet; he felt a swell of pride at that. He skimmed his hands along her shoulders, her arms, checking for any signs of injury she might be overlooking in her shock. It was habit, and he didn’t think to explain himself as he worked his way down her body. If his examination took her by surprise, she did a good job of keeping it to herself.

  “Yeah, well, hearing about pregnancy does funny things to people,” Olive remarked. “Especially to men when they’re not prepared for it.” Levon paused in a crouch near her knees, and Olive practically jumped to fill the awkward silence. “I mean… that wasn’t a dig at you. Sorry, that’s not what I meant. Not at all.”

  “No apology necessary.” He continued his once-over and gave no further indication that her words had stung him. He deserved worse than that, he was sure. Especially after letting her walk out into the open like that…

  “I just meant no man has been able to stand strong against the power of my brain,” she joked.

  “That brain of yours is fairly intimidating,” Levon agreed with a chuckle. He expected her to laugh as well, but she was silent as he rose. “Right?” he asked tentatively. He was at a complete loss at the moment for what else to say. He was agreeing with her, wasn’t he? Olive could run mental laps around just about anyone he knew. He had barely made it past the starting line in high school, but that didn’t keep him from recognizing smarts when he saw them.

  “… right. Ha-ha.” Olive forced a laugh and looked away, tucking an unruly lock of hair back behind her ear. “But I’m not smart enough to figure out what happens next, I’m afraid. So… what now?”

  “Now I find out if you really did walk here,” Levon replied. He crossed his arms and fixed her with his best stony look. Even if she wasn’t really able to see it in the dark, it still must have had an impact because he saw the way her shoulders slumped forward, giving him his answer. “Right. I’m taking you home. And I don’t want you stepping foot on campus again until the bell rings tomorrow morning.”

  “Taking me home… in your truck?” Olive allowed herself to be guided along toward the parking lot. Levon kept his hand nestled protectively at the small of her back so she couldn’t second-guess whether or not he was near. He had a way of moving silently without meaning to.

  “Yeah. Is there a proble—”

  Levon stopped short of continuing his question, because of course he didn’t have to boast a big brain of his own to know what Olive was thinking in that moment; or rather, remembering. Him in the driver’s seat, thrusting; her lithe body astride his lap, fingers spread wide on the roof of the cab to hold herself in place as he drove into her. That particular memory had returned to him more than a few times since he’d come back to town and had discovered, at the car rental place, that the same truck was available for him to use again. Just sitting in it for the first time, in the rental shop’s parking lot, had been enough to have him reliving how divine she had looked in that moment, how goddess-like, as she milked him for every last drop he was able to donate—

  Christ. His cock was already hardening at the memory of how tight she had been. Think of anything else, he ordered as he pulled open the cab door for her and extended his hand to help her in. Anything else. Had they made the baby the night before, or that morning? Olive had assured him she was on the pill…

  “Feels kind of like returning to the scene of the crime.” Olive interrupted his thoughts with an awkward laugh as they pulled out of the parking lot. Levon gripped the steering wheel and grimaced his agreement. It was uncanny how she seemed to be able to just read his thoughts like that.

  Maybe she’d found those moments as hard to forget as he had.

  He let her chat idly and offer up directions as he drove. He wanted to say the right thing to her this time—but before he could uncover what that might be, Olive’s voice cut through his thoughts again: “Well, this is me.”

  Already? Levon craned his head to look as Olive let herself out of the truck. The home was single-story, modest; it was one he had walked and driven past countless times before, growing up in Harper’s Forge. He couldn’t remember if this had been her parents’ house or not.

  “Olive.” Levon pulled his keys from the ignition and followed her out into the driveway. She was already halfway to the front door; if he didn’t know any better, he would suspect her of running away from him. “Can I come in?”

  “Uh…” Olive blinked owlishly, adorably, as the automatic outdoor light came on. “Are you sure that’s—I mean, I haven’t had a chance to clean, or anything—”

  “Let me walk you to your door, then.” Levon stood outside the golden pool of light, giving her space to process without backing down from his request. After a few seconds’ deliberation, Olive nodded, and led him up the porch steps.

  “Really, Levon, the security detail isn’t necessary,” she told him. “You can see for yourself how close I live to my neighbor. They know I’m pregnant, and have already said I can come over anytime I need to—”

  He was still trying to devise a polite way in by the time they arrived at her door. He didn’t want Olive alone right now; more than that, he didn’t want her out of his direct line of sight. But he didn’t know how to make that happen without making himself sound like a controlling asshole.

  Now her key was in the lock, and he still hadn’t thought of anything brilliant to say. Maybe he should put it to her bluntly. Olive, we need to talk about the baby—

  A piece of paper slipped free from the crack of her door and fluttered to the ground. Olive grabbed hold of the frame so she could stoop to pick it up, but Levon got to it first. He rose and held the note out to her under the light; then he drew closer to get a better look as Olive gasped. He had to be sure he was reading it right.

  Stay in your lane, the hand-penned message warned. The boy is ours.

  Suddenly, Levon realized there was another possible explanation for what had happened when the thug had grabbed Olive. Maybe the reason he’d frozen wasn’t because of the pregnancy, or because she’d talked too fast for the attacker to think straight. Maybe he’d frozen because he’d recognized her voice—realized who she was, despite the darkness—once she’d started talking. That was how he’d known to leave the note here.

  Which meant the Reapers were aware of who Olive was, and where she lived. And they knew she was a threat.

  In that moment, Levon knew exactly what to say.

  “Pack a bag,” he said. “You’re coming home with me.”

  5

  How did you argue with a Navy SEAL? You didn’t. Olive took one look at Levon’s steely expression, standing there under the suddenly not-so-safe-seeming light of her porch, and complied without protest.

  It was only now when she found herself at his furnished rental apartment that she realized she might have had a choice in the matter—and maybe the wiser choice might have been not to stay the night with the father of her child.

  “Seriously, Levon. I’ve lived twenty-six years of my life unprotected,” Olive stressed to her white knight for the umpteenth time. She paused in the doorway to remove her shoes, striking out for something to cling onto for balance. That something wound up being Levon’s offered bicep. She blushed, but accepted it.

  Just because she was seven months along didn’t make her a porcelain doll!

  “And I’ve spent t
wenty-eight years alive on this earth, which means I know more than you do about surviving,” Levon snapped back. “Did I mention I’m an ex-Navy SEAL?”

  “One or two times. In fact, you bring it up an awful lot, considering I’ve always read that special forces are supposed to be discreet.” Levon bent to help her remove her other shoe, which at least meant he couldn’t see her go completely scarlet at the gesture. White knight indeed. “This isn’t a competition, by the way,” she added as his thumb brushed along the arch of her foot in a way she wasn’t certain was necessary. “Also, pulling the age card is so high school.”

  “Not my fault you skipped a grade.” Levon grinned up at her dazzlingly. While she was busy being blinded by his good looks, he took her bag from her. Stole her bag from her, more like.

  “I skipped two grades,” she corrected primly.

  “Who’s feeling competitive now?”

  Olive huffed, blowing an errant curl of hair out of the way of her glasses, and then made her way cautiously into his bachelor pad as he carried her things off to rooms unknown. Man cave or not, this was a definite step up from the shed. A bit impersonal, as she would expect a furnished rental to be, but it was nicely put together. The space was precise without sacrificing comfort: there was a flat-screen in the den, and an overstuffed sectional that looked more comfortable than a heavenly cloud pulled down to earth. Olive sank into it with a deep sigh. She felt bone-weary all of a sudden, and she didn’t think it was just her pregnancy.

  The baby. She had been so focused on the logistics of staying healthy to deliver her child—and on the reality of becoming a single mother—that she had actually been able to avoid thinking about the emotional side of things. For the most part. Days were easier, but the nights alone were torture.

  That was why she focused so hard on her work, pouring herself into helping her students so she wouldn’t have to think about the task looming ahead of her. It helped having Franklin and the rest of her students to worry about. Of course, now that she knew Franklin and the others were facing real danger, her anxiety over them was going to get way more intense. Especially when factoring in the note that made it seem like she was being targeted, as well.

  “Here. I brought you something.” Levon’s low voice pulled her out of her more disturbing thoughts, and Olive looked up.

  “Tea?” she said brightly, perking up at the sight of him carrying two steaming mugs. She took the one he passed to her gingerly.

  “Careful. It’s extra hot. I know that’s how you like it.”

  “You do?” Olive blinked in confusion. “And how do you know that, exactly?”

  “Please. I have a better memory than you think.” Levon joined her on the couch. The cushion beside her sagged beneath his greater weight, and she couldn’t stop the flutter of awareness inside her. Levon Asher had always been big and powerful, never going through the awkward stages of puberty like the rest of the boys in their class… at least, not that she had noticed. And she had definitely been paying attention.

  “Of all the things about me, this is what you remember?” she asked. He kept his distance from her on the couch, but it was still too easy to imagine him spanning that distance, hot tea be damned.

  “Of course. You’re the only person I’ve ever met who used a Bunsen burner to reheat their beverages.” Levon chuckled at the memory and threw his arm over the back of the couch. “Did you know they make electric coasters now?”

  Olive stared at the mug cradled in her hands. “What can I say? I was ahead of my time.”

  “You were ahead of all of us, and probably still are.”

  The open admiration in his tone made a fresh wave of embarrassment rise inside her and she kept her gaze lowered to avoid seeing his expression.

  “Which is why it amazes me you managed to get yourself into this situation,” Levon continued.

  “Hey!” Her eyes flew to his at that, and Olive raised an eyebrow. “I know you had a little trouble with the sciences back in the day, but surely you know how babies are made? It takes two, you know.”

  “I… what?” Levon scowled and rocked forward, spilling his tea down the front of his shirt in the process. “I was talking about the gang, Liv! Christ.”

  Darn it. She’d really mucked that up—and he might have gotten burned as a result. “Oh! I’m sorry! Do you want me to go grab you a towel, or…?”

  “No, it’s all right.” Levon stopped her with his hand on her arm when she attempted to rise. “Sit. Let’s get this out there now.”

  Cheeks hot with mortification, she slumped back into her seat again. “I’m sorry, Levon, I just… this whole thing tonight has me unsettled, you know? And I did try to contact you after I found out, but the naval office told me there was no way to get in touch with you when you were deployed. Then, after a while, I got used to the idea of being on my own through this and things got busy at the school and I just stopped trying to find you.”

  He seemed to take that in a moment, then gripped her knee. The unexpected contact made her tingle. “How soon after I left did you find out?”

  “About a month.” She shrugged, then took a deep breath, remembering those early days when she’d survived on saltine crackers and broth because of the morning sickness. “At first I thought I had the flu. Went to the doctor and everything. She suggested a pregnancy test, and well…” She held up her hands in front of her now bulging belly. “My periods have never been exactly regular, even with the pill, so when I missed one, I didn’t think too much about it.”

  “Guess we were that one percent, huh?” he said, his thumb circling gently, absently against her knee, his voice low. She gave him a confused look and he said, “They always say on those commercials that the pill is ninety-nine percent effective.”

  “Actually, it’s ninety-nine point seven percent effective, so there was only a point zero three percent chance…” She lowered her head and tucked her hair behind her ear. “But yeah. Guess so.”

  The moment stretched out between them until she finally said, “I’m glad about it though. The baby, I mean. I always wanted kids.”

  “Me too.” He caught her gaze and held it. “I’ll do my part, whatever you need.”

  She nodded, still coming to terms with Levon being back in her life again and what that meant for the future. It was a lot to deal with at the moment and she needed time to wrap her head around it all, especially with this other thing popping up tonight with the gang. So, instead of blurting out something she might regret later, she changed subjects to hopefully something safer. “So, this new job of yours. Tell me more about it. I remember you saying it was a security firm?”

  “Yep.” He inhaled deeply, letting her go as he leaned back into the cushions again. She missed the heat of his touch immediately. “We’re called the Southern Soldiers of Fortune.”

  “The Southern Soldiers of Fortune.” Olive repeated, unpacking the full name. “And you guys are all former SEALs?”

  “Yeah. They recruit from all over,” he explained. “But the threshold to join is high. Insane, even.” He laughed quietly at whatever memories this claim stirred in him. “Only the best are offered positions.”

  From anyone else, she might have considered that a boast. From Levon, it was only the cold hard facts. Given his well-honed physique and knowing his determination and heart, she had no doubt that Levon Asher would be the best at whatever he decided to pursue. “Well, I’m glad you’re here, then.” Olive wasn’t sure why she’d whispered that, or why she wished he’d touch her again. “And not just because of… you know.” She gestured down at the baby. “But I still don’t understand how we ended up with gangs in Harper’s Forge. I mean, I’ve noticed some odd things lately around town, but hardly anything that bad.”

  He exhaled slowly, then took the cup from her hand and stood, grabbing his own from the table in front of them. “Best get us refills before we start that conversation. It’s going to be a long one.”

  “So,” Levon said as he settled in
beside her a short while later, handing her back a steaming mug of tea before sipping his own, his expression grim. “The Reapers. They started in DC and are now trying to branch out and establish their drug smuggling routes in the area. That’s where Harper’s Forge comes in. Small town, tiny police force, direct access to major highways and within a few hours of the coast. Perfect location for the newest link in their supply chain.” At her startled look, he shifted in his seat, frowning down at his tea. “As an added bonus, no one thinks things like that can happen in places like this, so no one suspects what’s really going on.”

  “How did your company find out about it?” she asked, her tone full of interest.

  If Levon had thought it through better, he probably wouldn’t have told her about all this in the first place. He remembered how, back when they were in school, Olive was always reading some mystery book or watching some true crime show on TV. She loved this stuff. Too much. His job here was to keep her safe, not get her involved in this mess any more than she already was. His gaze fell on her belly again and his heart tripped.

  My baby. My kid.

  It still hadn’t fully sunk in yet. He hadn’t lied before. He had always wanted kids of his own. Someday. But what was that old saying? Life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans? Man, wasn’t that the truth?

  Olive was still watching him with those big, pretty eyes of hers and he swallowed another gulp of tea before answering. In for a penny, in for a pound, he supposed. Besides, there was no harm in telling her a bit more about the situation, and how it was being handled by him and the other guys at Southern Soldiers of Fortune.

  “Well, it started off with a tip one of the guys at SSoF received from the Arlington PD about a big shipment of fentanyl-laced cocaine coming in from Colombia. There’d been several Reaper-related shootings in the city over the past few months, so their involvement in it was almost a given, since they rule the Arlington territory with a tight fist. The cops up there wanted us to help them investigate some of the local dealers to figure out where those deadly drugs might be heading.”