Out of Love

Out of Love by R.C. Boldt





Dedication


Matty,

Relocating a number of times, procreating once, changing jobs, buying and selling homes and now five books later, we’re still together and crazy in love. With a smidge more emphasis on the crazy part, perhaps?



Your arms have always been a safe haven for me. Your heart, my home. For that, I remain eternally grateful.



Oh, and I still love you more. ;)



A,

You’re my favorite girl in the whole, wide world and I still can’t believe I grew you. Regardless of the number of gray hairs you give me—which, let’s be honest, is A LOT—I still love you. Always.



Oh, and I’m not kidding about that whole chastity belt thing. You’re on lockdown until you’re forty. #Sorrynotsorry





Prologue


Foster Kavanaugh



“I just got these contracts signed.” Noelle Davis, my office manager, puts two files down on my desk. “Tell me again why these people don’t allow e-signing?” She huffs out a breath, blowing some stray blond hair off her face while I watch her return to her desk.

And, for the trillionth time, I resist the urge to brush aside her hair for her. Which pisses me the hell off. Because I know the facts:

Noelle is off limits as my employee.

You never shit where you eat.

Noelle is worth her weight in gold since she helps run our office more smoothly than it ever has.



There are probably more facts that will come to me later but right now—I can’t think of them. Hell, right now I can barely think. All because this saucy blonde minx is bending over in the pencil skirt she’s wearing. Taunting me.

And I know someone—or something, rather—that needs a reminder of those three facts I just listed. And he’s currently pressing against my khaki pants as if trying to say, Target is in range. Ready to attack.

God, I’m a sick motherfucker.

Running a hand down my face, trying to stifle a groan, I turn my attention back to the updated program details I’m compiling. I run TriShield Protection, a private security consulting firm, here in Fernandina Beach, Florida. We contract out to a specific sector of private businesses along with international airports, training their employees to properly address and deal with any possible attacks, terrorist or otherwise. We also have a bunch of contracts with the local military bases.

After leaving the SEALs, I knew what I wanted to do. I had invested my money wisely and knew, with my credentials and commendations, I’d be a shoo-in for this business. I hired only former military for those carrying out the instructional support and assessments. One of these reasons was because we knew our shit. We knew what would work when faced with someone intent on causing harm to others. We weren’t going to be the ones who said garbage like, “Well, according to these studies, it would behoove you to…”

Fuck, no. First of all, I hope to hell I never say the word behoove in my lifetime. But the point is, we aren’t pencil pushers. We don’t sit behind a desk all day and still think we have our finger on the pulse. We have all been out there, faced death on a near daily basis and know what that’s like. We know what to do to stay alive; we all need to try and stay one step ahead of the enemy.

The second reason I hire only former military is because I recognize—fully—how difficult it is to go from having the non-stop brotherhood in the military to civilian life in one fell swoop. It’s a transition which most civilians don’t understand, as well as why those loud noises put you on alert, why you always sit facing the main entrance of a restaurant, or any establishment, with your back to the wall to best observe any potential threat.

People don’t fucking get it.

Just because you leave war and incessant violence behind you—oceans away—doesn’t mean it leaves you. It doesn’t say, Oh, Kavanaugh, you’re leaving the military? Cool, bro. Sweet dreams at night. I know you’ll forget all about shooting that ten-year-old kid aiming an RPG at your men, right?

Cue the major eye-rolling on that delusional-as-shit comment.

So, here I am. Still trying to give back to my country, trying to keep people safe from assholes intent as hell on taking away our freedom, and still provide support to those in transition. Those like Miller Vaughn and Roman “Doc” Watts, both former SEALs, as well as Langley—“Lee”—Ford, former combat pararescue jumper and the only female hire aside from Noelle, and Kane Windham, former Green Beret.

Yeah, my crew’s damn impressive, if I do say so myself. And things had been going smoothly—well, as smoothly as it could before I hired an office manager. The business grew far faster than I had anticipated. But it has been great, no major kinks along the way to deal with. All my employees got along well. Smooth sailing.

R.C. Boldt's books