Close Quarters (Her SEAL Protector #1) by Roxie Rivera
Authors: Roxie Rivera
Tags: romantic suspense
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Chapter One
Stretching his aching neck, Special Warfare Operator Leland Gates blew out a tired breath and flexed his fingers off the steering wheel of the rental SUV he had picked up in Austin. His gaze drifted along the bluebonnets blanketing both sides of the two-lane road. God, how he'd missed those. Another twenty minutes and he would arrive at his family's quiet little cabin tucked away in the hill country. His throbbing knee screamed for a good stretch and a long walk.
Running his hand along the twinging muscles on his left side, he winced. Right in front of his eyes, the long stretch of Texas highway morphed into the tight confines of a shipping vessel as the slight pulse of pain brought back memories he would rather forget. As an elite SEAL team operator, he was used to danger and risk. Most missions went according to plan, but there were always the ones that were complete Charlie-Foxtrots. The recent rescue of an American crew aboard a hijacked shipping vessel off the coast of Africa had been one of those.
Shaking his head to clear the remembered sounds of muted gunfire and snapping ricochets, he concentrated on the highway. When the turnoff to the private road came into view, he eased off the gas and hit his blinker. He made the unmarked left and drove a few dozen yards to the locked gate. After punching in the code and watching the gate slide sideways, he rolled across the cattle guard and onto the property. A short time later, the small cabin appeared at the end of the single lane caliche path.
Always alert, Leland noticed the faint glow of light behind the wooden blinds and curtains. He lifted his foot from the gas and let the SUV crawl forward as his finely honed gaze swept the area. There was no vehicle that he could see. Was it a hitchhiker or possibly an illegal immigrant? It wouldn't have been the first time some poor soul had taken refuge at the cabin.
Not taking any chances, he reached for the weapon stowed safely away in the lock box tucked inside his small suitcase. Armed and ready, he parked his SUV at an angle that gave him some coverage and with enough space to maneuver if he needed to retreat hastily. Before he barged into the cabin, Leland decided to make sure his little sister hadn't given her key to someone.
"Leelee!" Peyton answered with her usual bright cheeriness.
His lips twitched at that awful nickname she had given him. He had hated it from the first time she had used it, but he hadn't had the heart to tell her no. At six years old, Peyton had been the scrawniest little thing, all big eyes and wobbling lips and terrified of everyone but him when his parents had brought her into their home as a foster child. He had been adopted by Jan and Dave Gates a few years earlier so he had understood Peyton's fear and had been willing to go along with that girlish nickname if it made her smile.
Trying not to be distracted by memories, he asked, "Peyton, did you give your cabin key to a friend?"
"Okay, look," she said quickly and in a tone that made his chest tighten. "Please don't flip out on me. She needed to get out of town for a couple of days, and I didn't know you were going to take leave and try to disappear out there."
He had a bad feeling about the identity of she . "Did you give the key to Jamie?"
Peyton hesitated. "Yes."
He pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled roughly. It had to be her . It had to be the one woman in the whole wide world who got under his skin. It had to be the girl who made him want to break all his rules.
A sensation that felt suspiciously like anxiety gripped his gut. He had escaped out here to relax, not to be strung as tight as a tripwire. "I'll head into town and see if I can get a room at one of the bed and breakfasts, or that ratty little motel on the outskirts."
"No! Leland, please don't." She only used his full name when it was serious. His internal alarm clanged. "She's in trouble."
"She's always in trouble. Hell, Jamie is trouble."
"Stop."
Stretching his aching neck, Special Warfare Operator Leland Gates blew out a tired breath and flexed his fingers off the steering wheel of the rental SUV he had picked up in Austin. His gaze drifted along the bluebonnets blanketing both sides of the two-lane road. God, how he'd missed those. Another twenty minutes and he would arrive at his family's quiet little cabin tucked away in the hill country. His throbbing knee screamed for a good stretch and a long walk.
Running his hand along the twinging muscles on his left side, he winced. Right in front of his eyes, the long stretch of Texas highway morphed into the tight confines of a shipping vessel as the slight pulse of pain brought back memories he would rather forget. As an elite SEAL team operator, he was used to danger and risk. Most missions went according to plan, but there were always the ones that were complete Charlie-Foxtrots. The recent rescue of an American crew aboard a hijacked shipping vessel off the coast of Africa had been one of those.
Shaking his head to clear the remembered sounds of muted gunfire and snapping ricochets, he concentrated on the highway. When the turnoff to the private road came into view, he eased off the gas and hit his blinker. He made the unmarked left and drove a few dozen yards to the locked gate. After punching in the code and watching the gate slide sideways, he rolled across the cattle guard and onto the property. A short time later, the small cabin appeared at the end of the single lane caliche path.
Always alert, Leland noticed the faint glow of light behind the wooden blinds and curtains. He lifted his foot from the gas and let the SUV crawl forward as his finely honed gaze swept the area. There was no vehicle that he could see. Was it a hitchhiker or possibly an illegal immigrant? It wouldn't have been the first time some poor soul had taken refuge at the cabin.
Not taking any chances, he reached for the weapon stowed safely away in the lock box tucked inside his small suitcase. Armed and ready, he parked his SUV at an angle that gave him some coverage and with enough space to maneuver if he needed to retreat hastily. Before he barged into the cabin, Leland decided to make sure his little sister hadn't given her key to someone.
"Leelee!" Peyton answered with her usual bright cheeriness.
His lips twitched at that awful nickname she had given him. He had hated it from the first time she had used it, but he hadn't had the heart to tell her no. At six years old, Peyton had been the scrawniest little thing, all big eyes and wobbling lips and terrified of everyone but him when his parents had brought her into their home as a foster child. He had been adopted by Jan and Dave Gates a few years earlier so he had understood Peyton's fear and had been willing to go along with that girlish nickname if it made her smile.
Trying not to be distracted by memories, he asked, "Peyton, did you give your cabin key to a friend?"
"Okay, look," she said quickly and in a tone that made his chest tighten. "Please don't flip out on me. She needed to get out of town for a couple of days, and I didn't know you were going to take leave and try to disappear out there."
He had a bad feeling about the identity of she . "Did you give the key to Jamie?"
Peyton hesitated. "Yes."
He pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled roughly. It had to be her . It had to be the one woman in the whole wide world who got under his skin. It had to be the girl who made him want to break all his rules.
A sensation that felt suspiciously like anxiety gripped his gut. He had escaped out here to relax, not to be strung as tight as a tripwire. "I'll head into town and see if I can get a room at one of the bed and breakfasts, or that ratty little motel on the outskirts."
"No! Leland, please don't." She only used his full name when it was serious. His internal alarm clanged. "She's in trouble."
"She's always in trouble. Hell, Jamie is trouble."
"Stop."
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