Gambled - A Titan Novella by Cristin Harber Read Free Book Online Page B

Deservedly so. And he didn’t want to join another team, though he craved the adrenaline fix and didn’t know how to do much except for fly jets and handle C-4.
    But a sex tape. He’d volunteer for sex tape duty, no questions asked. He’d volunteer this second. Her weight shifted, and he could’ve crawled out of his skin for wanting her so bad.
    “Did I lose you?” Sarah’s freckled nose wrinkled.
    “No. Just thinking.”
    “Give me another one, Brock.”
    Ropes. Sex tapes. And… “Hot fudge and vanilla ice cream.”
    She bit his earlobe then licked down his neck. “Someone’s going to have a lot of shopping to do while on vacation.”
    Before-Sarah was fun. More-Sarah rocked his world. “Rope and ice cream. Maybe the best things you’ve sent me to the store for.”
    The Hummer pulled up to a resort, winding to the front reception area. The concierge could hook him up. Might look twice at his shopping list, but he wasn’t about to leave Sarah for long. This place was nice enough that they’d get what they asked for, no questions. And it was adults only. Surely the concierge had seen a rope, ice cream, and video camera request before?
    A bellboy unloaded their bags. Brock meandered to the front desk, knowing exactly how the next few hours of their island getaway would go.
    “Checking in. Reservation under Gamble.”
    From behind him, Sarah wrapped her arms around his torso, leaning into his back. Felt good to have her with him, relaxed and unencumbered by their recent history. He snaked his palms over her forearms, covering the clasp of her hands below his stomach.
    The woman behind the counter shoved slips of paper at him. “Mr. Gamble. You’ve had several emergency messages left from a man named Jared Westin.”

CHAPTER SEVEN
     
    Brock’s stomach bottomed out. Emergency phone calls? Plural? He knew Jared like a brother. An estranged brother—and that killed Brock—but nothing he could do to change that. Bet Jared was pissed Brock never answered his cell phone. But it sat at home, after not charging it for weeks.
    Still standing at the reception desk, Sarah’s bear-hugging arms had tensed around his torso. Last thing Brock needed was for her to freeze up and have a flashback. No telling what might be a trigger, but Jared and emergency messages sounded like it might.
    She stepped to the side, eyes wide. “It can’t be the kids. They’re with my mom. But I’ll call and double-check.”
    No. It wouldn’t be the kids. If something had happened to his kids, Jared would’ve jumped on a Lear jet and beat their commercial flight to Saint Lucia. He would’ve told Brock face-to-face. Jared was a dick, but of the honorable type.
    “I don’t need to call him back.” Though what circumstances would make Jared track him down and pick up the phone? Whatever. Didn’t matter. Brock was here to rehash and rebuild, to make sure his wife came home again.
    Her head tilted. “You can’t ignore an emergency call.”
    “Sure I can. Dude probably’s just giving me a heads up—” he cut himself off. He was going to say something about retribution, but that wouldn’t help Sarah and her PTSD. “A head’s up on… I don’t know.”
    “So call him.”
    “Nah.” Brock shook his head, pulling her close. “Nothing good will come of it, and I’m here with you. For us.”
    Sarah stepped to the resort counter. “I’ll take the messages. He’ll finish checking us in.”
    The girl behind the counter gave an unsure smile. Jared had probably put the fear of God in her with each phone call, and if Brock wasn’t half-interested in returning the calls, she might be blamed. Can’t subject the poor girl to Boss Man’s attitude . “Fine.”
    A few minutes later, they were in a swank suite, and nothing about his ice cream and rope shopping list would happen anytime soon. Sarah paced. She’d checked out the room, remarked on the awesomeness of it all, but her demeanor had shifted, and screw Jared for that.
    “So,