May Contain Wine (SWAT Generation 2.0 Book 5) Page 3

  I had long legs, a pretty face, and black hair.

  I didn’t have freckles. I didn’t have tits that could make a grown man weep—or stare at them like Sammy Spurlock, Louis’ cousin and another member of the SWAT team, was doing right that very second.

  Hell, I didn’t even have a healthy body.

  I was a broken pile of Calloway that had zero energy to do anything that would make my body look better.

  Pretty much, I was soft, squishy, and I didn’t even go ‘woo hoo’ when I was poked like the Pillsbury Doughboy.

  More often than not, I growled.

  Which kept the men at bay.

  Then again, I suppose it could be worse. I could have extra weight that I needed to exercise to get off but couldn’t.

  That would suck.

  I wasn’t fat, but I wasn’t skinny. I wasn’t pretty, but I wasn’t ugly. I wasn’t anything. I just was.

  Which, I think, sucked even more. At least most people knew where they stood.

  I didn’t.

  I mean, I had a hot guy once. But he broke up with me.

  So… what did that mean for me?

  Because I sure the hell didn’t know.

  Derek, another member of the SWAT team, walked over and poked me in the forehead.

  “How’s it going?” he asked.

  I batted his hand away and glared.

  “I’d be doing a whole lot better if I wasn’t almost late for my flight,” I said, batting his hand away again when he tried to poke me once more.

  See, a lot of us grew up together. Derek, Ares, Bourne, Boothe, Louis, Sammy, and a bunch of others? We were the SWAT kids. The kids of the original Kilgore SWAT team members.

  We knew each other well, and just like he knew what to do to provoke me, I also knew what to do to annoy him.

  Which was why I pulled the hairs on his arm when he tried to reach up and poke me again.

  “Oww!” he whined.

  I rolled my eyes.

  The idea of this big, six-foot-two giant of a man whining was hilarious in and of itself.

  “Why were y’all late?” I asked curiously.

  With all of them being here together, there must’ve been a call of some kind.

  I likely could’ve asked Louis and gotten an answer, but that would’ve meant that I needed to actually talk to him civilly, and I didn’t think I could handle that right now.

  “We had a call about a man that was trying to set his building on fire,” he said. “He wouldn’t come out of his locked basement. We evacuated everyone and then tried to get in only to find out he didn’t have a basement. He was in the attic.”

  I snorted.

  “Louis was able to pull some sniper mojo and get the sprinklers to set off in the attic,” he continued. “He was all in a hurry to leave, though. He wasn’t purposefully late.”

  I knew that he wasn’t.

  Despite everything that had gone on with us, he was usually quite punctual and serious about donating blood to me.

  “Where are you flying to?”

  That was Hayes, Ares’ husband.

  “Ares didn’t tell you?” I asked. “I thought I heard you were in the room when we were talking last night.”

  Hayes grinned wickedly. “I was preoccupied.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  He was preoccupied with undressing Ares, which was the reason that she’d hung up with me.

  “I’m going to Washington, D.C.,” I said.

  “Why?”

  I ignored Louis’ question and acted like I didn’t hear it.

  “Why?” Hayes asked, repeating the question.

  “I’m interviewing someone.” I shrugged.

  “For your blog?” Derek asked, taking a seat on the side of my table.

  I moved over to allow him more room and nodded.

  “Yes. And my magazine,” I whispered.

  He winked at me, knowing exactly why I’d whispered.

  I didn’t want Louis to know that I still did my blog, or that I did my magazine.

  That would just give him one more thing to talk to me about, and it was already hard enough to stand being in the same room with him.

  I was still in love with him, that was for sure.

  I’d spent the last few years trying my damnedest to forget him, and the only thing that I accomplished was thinking about him even more.

  It sucked.

  It sucked even more that Louis didn’t realize what his presence did to me.

  Which meant that despite me trying to stay away from him, he didn’t try to stay away from me.

  The blood finally hit the halfway point, and I picked up my phone to see where I was at with my flight.

  I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw it was delayed for an hour.

  Thank God.

  I did not want to miss this flight. Because missing this flight meant that I would have to drive to Dallas. And driving always brought out the worst in me.

  It was inevitable that I’d get sleepy. Then I’d have to stop. Then I’d be late.

  Which was the story of my life.

  “What’s in Washington, D.C. again?” Louis asked.

  I blinked, surprised to see him standing at the end of my bench with his arms crossed over his chest.

  He had a pink bandage on his arm, compressing the spot where he’d just donated blood.

  But his eyes were all on me.

  I pinched my lips together, not wanting to tell him why.

  But then Hayes answered for me, unaware of the tension.

  “She’s going to Washington, D.C. to interview a couple of Navy SEALs,” Hayes said. “My wife was talking about her blog this morning.”

  I frowned hard at him. “If you knew where I was going, why did you ask?”

  He flashed me a quick grin and jerked his head in Louis’ direction.

  “Gotta watch out for my boy.”

  Then he was gone, leaving me with ‘his boy.’

  I stared at Hayes’ back as he left, then turned reluctantly to face Louis fully.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Since when do you go anywhere?” he asked. “What’s changed that you’d be willing to fly to Washington, D.C.?”

  I patted the bag that was in my lap.

  “I found a miracle drug that allows me not to freak out when I get on a plane,” I said. “And sometimes, my seatmate is really nice and lets me hold their hand.”

  Louis blinked at me as if he was trying to decide if I was being serious or not.

  I was.

  I didn’t like flying.

  Even worse, I really sucked at takeoffs and landing.

  I’d only held onto a man’s hand once, though.

  The rest of the times, I was already passed out before the takeoff, meaning that I didn’t worry about whether I was going to live or die.

  “You’re so scared that you have to take medication, yet you’re still going?” he asked, sounding off.

  I smiled sadly at him. “Someone once told me that I had to be brave to experience the world. I’m only doing what he suggested.”

  And we both knew that he was the one to say those words to me.

  What was worse, that was one of the reasons that I had a feeling he broke up with me about.

  Not that he would ever admit it or anything.

  That would make him look like a complete and utter asshole if he broke up with me because I was scared to do something.

  He stared at me so long that I started to squirm on the table.

  Thank God that the bag finally finished draining, because Prissy was there in an instant, unhooking me and shooing me out of her area.

  When I walked around the table and tried to bypass Louis, he stepped back and wouldn’t let me pass.

  “What are you doing next week?”

  I frowned. “Why?”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets, his eyes on me.


  And they were weird. He was staring at me like he had something to say, but he wasn’t sure how to say it.

  “I gotta go,” I said, looking away. “And I won’t be here for the next week. Sorry.”

  He frowned hard. “Where? To Washington, D.C. the whole time?”

  I didn’t want to tell him. In fact, I didn’t have to tell him.

  So I didn’t.

  Instead, I smiled, waved, and turned my back on him, and didn’t turn back when he called my name.

  Before I left, I made sure to go see Myrtle next door.

  Opening the door to Scrapbooks & More, I poked my head in and smiled at my good friend.

  “Myrtle!”

  Myrtle looked up from her phone and grinned. “I think I scared him, doll!”

  I snickered. “You did.”

  “He was all, ‘oh, no, ma’am. I don’t think that’s appropriate.’” She snickered. “I like him. You should date him.”

  I frowned. “I did date him. He dumped me.”

  Her brows rose. “Well, then maybe you should try again. The whole time I was trying to get him to sign my boob, he was all looking in at you and staring moon-eyes. Trust me when I say, he isn’t over you at all.”

  I refused to admit that he cared even the least bit about me.

  Because to admit that he cared, meant that I was allowing him in enough to break my heart all over again. And I wasn’t having any of that.

  Later, when I boarded my plane to Washington, D.C., I had to thank Louis for opening my eyes and seeing the error in my ways. Had he never broken up with me, I wouldn’t have pushed myself to explore my boundaries. And I wouldn’t have left the city limits of Kilgore and experienced the beauty that I had.

  Today I would be traveling for my second job. The one that I did on my own time after I got off of work at the high school as the school nurse.

  This week, the school was off for a teacher in-service week, and even though I wasn’t a teacher, I got to be off, too.

  Which was a perfect time to utilize my time wisely and go do the interview with a couple of Navy SEALS that were now, sadly, disabled.

  Chapter 2

  Having a weird mom builds character.

  -T-shirt

  Louis

  If I’d had any fucking idea that the SWAT calendar would’ve gotten as much attention as it did, I would’ve never done it. Not in a million motherfuckin’ years.

  “You want us to what?” I asked, leaning back in my chair and looking at my boss, Lucas Roberts, and my father’s good friend, as if he was a crazy bastard.

  Then again, he was a crazy bastard, but still.

  “I want you to do an interview with Hero Magazine.” He repeated his earlier statement.

  “Shit,” I mumbled under my breath. “That’s what I thought you said.”

  He grinned. “It’s for a good cause.”

  My brows rose. “I can’t see how.”

  Luke dropped his feet and stared at me with a look of annoyance. “It’s for Calloway.”

  That had me sitting up straighter.

  “What do you mean, it’s for Calloway?” I barked.

  He leaned back and grinned. “I thought that might get your attention.”

  I gritted my teeth and leaned my elbows on my knees, my eyes completely fixated on Luke.

  “This is not funny,” I snapped.

  Did everyone think that this was just some big joke?

  I’d been a dumbass when I was a teenager. I’d broken up with the one good person that I’d ever been able to find, and then she hadn’t given me the time of day since.

  I’d tried.

  Oh, how I’d tried.

  After seeing her at prom nine months after I’d broken it off—and yes, I’d tried to talk to her before that, but she was stubborn and wouldn’t even take a phone call from me—I’d tried everything in my power to get her to notice me.

  Except, when I tried harder, so did she.

  Now it was like she barely even saw me.

  Which fucking sucked.

  And everyone, including the man standing in front of me, knew of my dumbassery.

  “I mean that this Hero Magazine interview is Calloway’s idea,” he said. “She’s the one to set it up. And the proceeds off of it go to a great charity.”

  I sighed.

  That changed things.

  If this was for Calloway, then everybody was going to do it, whether they wanted to or not. I’d make sure of it.

  “Fine,” I said as I stood up. “I assume you told me because you wanted me to tell the others to cooperate?”

  He nodded.

  “That’s nice.” I rolled my eyes. “You play dirty.”

  He knew damn well and good the guys weren’t going to want to sit down for another interview and photoshoot. Especially after how the last photoshoot had gone.

  See, the calendar had done a lot of damage.

  We were all wary of anything that would put our faces even more out there than they were. I mean, at this point, we had news stations calling us, asking for in-person interviews. We had other requests for calendars for next year. It was a shit show, and there had been quite a few refusals on everyone’s parts when it came to things like this.

  So for Luke to ask this of me? He knew what he was doing.

  He also knew that I’d do damn near anything to get onto Calloway’s good side, so I’d make a solid effort to get the guys to agree.

  “And you have about an hour and a half until she shows,” he continued. “You might want to get started.”

  I sighed and stood up, trudging my way out of Luke’s office and heading for my cruiser.

  Today we were doing drills at the strip club—and it really was a strip club. Or, it used to be.

  Now, it was a strip club on the outside, but a modern facility on the inside that we used to do training exercises.

  Being the last to arrive, thanks to the meeting with the chief, I walked into the building to find every one of the SWAT team members in attendance, as well as Nico. Although not our boss, he was an experienced retired SWAT team member who wouldn’t let us do anything too bad.

  He also kept us well in line and made it a point to tell us when we were doing something stupid when Bennett and my dad, our actual bosses, weren’t around.

  Nico, again, was one of the men that I grew up around. He’d been on the SWAT team with my father, and a substitute dad when I needed him.

  I walked straight up to him and offered him my hand.

  He took it, then went back to leaning against the wall and staring at his two sons, Booth and Bourne, as they watched Booth’s son, Asa, climb the rope.

  He was nearly all the way to the top when he lost his grip and started to fall.

  Nico, Booth, and Bourne tensed.

  However, Asa was able to regain control and finished his climb to the top before descending hand over hand like everyone had taught him.

  He landed with a thud on the training mats, then started doing it all over again.

  Nico shook his head.

  “How’d the meeting with Luke go?” he asked casually.

  I looked over at him. “You know what the meeting was about?”

  He gave me a droll look. “Why do you think that I told you to go there and talk to him, and then Bennett made sure that everyone was gathered here in one place to give her a chance to interview them?”

  I sighed. “They’re gonna want to say no.”

  “But they won’t, because this is Calloway,” he pointed out.

  Nico was right.

  This was for Calloway, and she was one of us.

  “How do you suggest I go about it?” I asked.

  “I suggest that you just tell them we’re doing an interview that benefits Calloway. Get your group on your side. Then help them convince the others,” he offered his suggestion.

  I sighed and did just that, walking up first to Booth an
d Bourne since they were the closest.

  After explaining about the interview, and that Luke wanted us to do it, and who was behind it all, they were easily mollified.

  As were five of the others—Adam, Dax, Derek, Ford, and Hayes.

  Sammy, of course, would do anything that I asked of him—so I hadn’t even bothered trying to convince him to help.

  The holdouts were Nathan, Malachi, and Saint.

  All of which did not, under any circumstances, want to do another shoot or interview ever.

  “I have a right to say no,” Malachi said, sounding annoyed that I kept pushing it. “I don’t want to do any interviews.”

  “You do,” Calloway’s soft, melodic voice said from behind us. “Because this charity helps veterans just like you.”

  Malachi stiffened at having someone come up behind him without him noticing.

  He turned and stared at Calloway, who looked as if she’d come for battle.

  She looked good.

  I hadn’t seen her in a week, and I expected her to be drained down after all of her extensive traveling. But she looked happy and healthy. The usual dark circles underneath her eyes weren’t there like they usually were, meaning she was likely having a good day.

  She was dressed in blue jeans that fit her juicy ass like a glove, a pair of low boots that showed off her gorgeous calves, and a tight black t-shirt that wrapped around her curves like I wanted my body to.

  And her hair.

  It was down.

  Over the years, she’d grown it out. When she chopped all her hair off and then sent it to me when I was in bootcamp, I’d nearly had a heart attack.

  Every last reason to stay away from her went down the drain in a fiery storm of regret and annoyance.

  Shamefully, I hadn’t had a good reason when I broke up with her.

  I’d been selfish, thinking of myself, and not wanting to have a reason at home to stop me from fulfilling my own dreams—i.e., travel the world and do the things that I knew without a shadow of a doubt Calloway would never want to do. And, saying that, I knew that she still had a year left of school. She was forced to stay where she was, and I wanted the freedom to be adventurous and do the things that I wanted without the repercussions of what Calloway would think about them.

  In hindsight, it was the worst mistake I’d ever made.

  It was shortly after I’d broken things off that I first realized that things weren’t greener on the other side of the fence.