Chapter 7

Slate thumbed a text to West Renkin, the IT guru of Shadow Security headquarters, late the next morning. Slate and Ashleigh had been scheduled to check into their hotel room in Seattle the very next day—Christmas. And the day after that would be their surprise wedding at a small yet sophisticated venue in the city. His wedding planner had emailed him earlier, confirming the details and schedule. His mind was on the other glaring issue at hand, however.

While Jett’s assistant had booked Slate and Ashleigh new accommodations, his team would still be monitoring the original hotel. Briefly, Slate wondered why his marriage license had been posted on the dark web in addition to his name and hotel reservation. Ashleigh had been living with him for a year. If someone wanting to harm them had been trying to find out her name, it wouldn’t have been difficult. Any idiot snooping through their mailbox could’ve easily learned both her first and last name.

A hint of uneasiness wound through him. He’d checked the cameras here and at his home in San Diego daily. Jett’s men would be monitoring things in Seattle. While there wasn’t a specific threat, worry niggled at the back of his mind.

Slate frowned at his phone as he waited for West’s reply. Ashleigh was in the other room, readying the present she had to give him. Although it was Christmas Eve, she’d declared that if he could give her presents early, she could do the same.

Slate shook his head. He couldn’t begin to imagine what it was that had her so excited, but he’d find out soon enough. Slate wasn’t a man that typically liked surprises. Ironic that he was going to surprise his fiancée with her own wedding. Slate thrived on order and following a detailed plan. The leak of information pertaining to his own travel plans was concerning. Nothing unusual had happened at the cabin, for which he was grateful, but once they were in Seattle? He didn’t want to worry about homegrown terrorists looking for him—not when he was readying to surprise and marry the woman of his dreams.

His phone buzzed, and he lifted it to his ear. “Striker here.”

“Anna, the kids, and I just landed in Seattle,” Jett told him. “We had to assure them Santa would find us at the hotel,” he added with a low chuckle. “My wife brought a ridiculous amount of presents for the boys, but we did make sure to also bring Ashleigh’s wedding gown.”

“Thank Anna for me,” Slate said, eyeing the bedroom door in case Ashleigh walked back in. “And Anna confirmed all the other details with the wedding planner? I’m on the same emails as them but don’t even know the half of it.”

“Everything will be ready and in place. Lena told me that she sent you the new hotel reservations.”

“Yes. I don’t know how she managed to find another honeymoon suite,” he said in a low voice, “but the woman can clearly work miracles. I just texted West to see if he had any updates.”

“Nothing else pertaining to you has been leaked online,” Jett assured him. “We’re running constant searches on your name.”

“I’m worried we’re missing something,” Slate admitted. “I’ve been distracted by the wedding.”

Jett chuckled. “I bet that pretty fiancée of yours is keeping you plenty distracted. Who knew you’d turn out to be such a flustered groom?” he joked as Slate bit back a curse.

“Usually, I’m the one running the show,” Slate reminded him. “Handing the reins over to someone else to pull off the biggest day of my life doesn’t suit my style.”

“It’ll be worth it when you slide that ring on her finger. A wedding band on your woman right next to her engagement ring? Hell. I didn’t think I was into such trite customs, but I love that the entire world knows Anna is mine.”

“How’s Anna feel about that?” Slate joked.

“She’s damn happy. How’s my future sister-in-law?” Jett asked, and Slate could picture his smile.

Slate shook his head, pacing back and forth in the bedroom. “She realizes I’m planning something but is in the dark as to the specifics. She’s asked for hints a few times, but I’ve refused to give in.”

Jett chuckled.

“What’s so funny? Your own wife surprised you with a wedding.”

“That she did,” Jett agreed. “And it was fucking spectacular.”

Slate muttered under his breath as Jett barked out a laugh. After speaking for a few moments, they ended the call. Slate still hadn’t heard back from West but figured he’d give him some more time to respond. West had already hacked into the hotel’s security feed where Slate had originally made reservations. In addition, Jett had men staying there tonight, and they’d all be watching for the men tracking Slate.

Tomorrow was the day the terror cell expected him to arrive in Seattle. How they were specifically connected to the men after him last year was anyone’s guess. Slate didn’t have a name or photo of who’d been monitoring him. He didn’t know what specifically they wanted retaliation for. Slate had run hundreds of missions over the years. Those seeking revenge could be mad at him for a multitude of reasons.

He had other details to worry about as well—namely, getting Ashleigh to Seattle tomorrow so he could marry the woman of his dreams. She’d spoken of baking Christmas cookies, and he felt a twinge of regret that they’d have to postpone that plan. Not that he’d ordered baking ingredients anyway, but she was already asking him if they could head to the small store in the nearby town.

Slate wasn’t used to deceiving her. He could never share details of his classified, military work, but that was different. He should probably tell her tonight that he wanted to whisk her off to Seattle in the morning. Cursing, he saw the reply from West.

West: Nothing suspicious on the security feed. Jett already has men in place. We’ll alert you ASAP if any trouble arises.

Slate: Appreciate it.

West: And congratulations on the upcoming wedding. Anna is quite excited about it.

Shaking his head, Slate pocketed the phone.

“Guess what?” Ashleigh asked, poking her head into the bedroom. Slate did a double take as she moved into the room wearing nothing but a sexy, red satin robe. It crossed over her breasts, and her shapely legs peeked out beneath. “Anna finally texted to say that they’re flying out here. You knew before me!”

Slate’s lips quirked. “I’m glad Jett’s not planning to stay here with us,” he joked. “With you looking like that, I want you all to myself.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, and she giggled.

“Then it’s a good thing they have a hotel in the city. Also, Anna told me to check the stockings. According to her, there’s no need to wait until Christmas because whatever’s inside will be fun tonight.”

“Do we even want to know what she put in them?” Slate hedged.

Ashleigh gleefully took his hand and tugged him into the living room. “Knowing her, it could literally be anything. We’ll peek in the stockings, I’ll give you my gift, and then you can unwrap my robe,” she teased.

Slate smirked. Usually, he was the one giving orders, but it was cute as hell to see Ashleigh so excited about her present. He watched as she took the “Bride” stocking off the mantle. She pursed her lips together as she pulled out several strips of condoms, each with a naughty sticker placed on the wrapper. Ashleigh read one, her cheeks turning pink. “Lick me like a candy cane.”

Slate raised his eyebrows, trying not to laugh. He nodded toward the “Groom” stocking. “Can’t wait to see what’s in the other one,” he said dryly.

She reached up to remove it and peered inside. “This one has…flavored condoms. And edible massage oil?” she questioned, looking doubtful as she read over the description.

“Huh. That explains it,” he said as he shook his head.

“Explains what?”

“When Anna texted me the other day, she told me the stockings were foreplay.”

“At least now we know why she and Jett have so many kids,” Ashleigh joked. “They keep all their condoms here at the cabin.”

“Ha ha,” Slate said, but his lips quirked as he remembered the groceries Anna had delivered for them last year. The brown bags on the front porch had been filled with food, wine…and a box of condoms. Quite unexpected given that he and Ashleigh had known each other for about ten minutes, and he’d been planning on sending her to a hotel for the night.

“Oh! Wait here,” Ashleigh said, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she set down the stocking. “I want to get your present.”

“Can I come, too?” he asked huskily, moving to follow her.

“I know you’re not good at taking orders, but humor me this time?” she pleaded.

“Just this once,” he teased. “Pretty sure you’re the only one who can attempt to order me around, Ash.”

She blew him a kiss and then disappeared, coming back down the hall a moment later. She was still dressed only in the red, satin robe and diamond necklace he’d given her, a wrapped gift in her hands.

“I brought your present,” she said, smiling seductively.

“You?” he quipped. “I’m a damn lucky man.”

She pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh. “You can have me after you open your real gift.”

Slate leveled her with a look. “You are my real gift, Ash.”

She handed it to him anyway, and he took the rectangular present from her, carefully unwrapping it. He guffawed, trying to cover his shock as he stared at the novel with his bare torso on the cover instead of a male model. He’d seen her name on dozens of books, but this one hit him straight in the heart. “SEAL’s Command,” he murmured, reading the title of it. “Written by Ashleigh Moore.”

“I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen you embarrassed,” she teased.

“You put my photo on one of your romance novels?” he asked with a chuckle, shaking his head.

“I cropped your face off,” she said, running her hands over the image. “And it’s a special edition—one copy, written just for you. Do I need to tell you that you’re the hero in the story?” She moved closer, her delicate hands gripping his forearm.

Slate’s blood heated as he breathed in her warmth and scent. “This is gonna be good,” he said, flipping through the pages. “My favorite book ever.”

“You haven’t even read it yet,” she replied with a laugh.

His eyes slid to hers. “Do I get the girl?”

She bit her lip and nodded, a pretty blush spreading across her cheeks.

“Then it’s my goddamn favorite,” he growled, moving closer. “Can we read it together in bed?”

“Umm-hmm,” she agreed.

Slate took her lips in a kiss, sliding the satin robe from her shoulders. His big hands fumbled with the sash at her waist, and he moved in, nuzzling her breasts, suckling her pink nipples as she squirmed. Ashleigh was breathing heavily as his hands skimmed down her body, gripping her hips. “Ash,” he breathed.

The robe fell to the floor, and Slate could see she was already flushed and aroused for him. He wasted no time, backing her to the sofa before feasting on her, showing her without words how much he desired her. After her cries filled the living room, he stripped down, and they made love in front of the fire again, the rest of the world forgotten.