CHAPTER 25
Jerico
After pulling the seven-iron from my bag, I reach into my pocket and curl my fingers around the golf ball and tee I’d shoved in there after the last hole. I keep my eyes on the flag of this par-three. There’s barely any wind so this should be an easy shot to the green.
One foot planted, the other one rises slightly as I bend down to push the tee into the ground with the golf ball already on top of it. I step behind the tee and take a few practice swings.
“Fifty bucks says you don’t hit the green,” Kynan says as I move in closer.
“You’re on,” I say without looking at him. I’ve been on fire today, my confidence in my game at an all-time high. Maybe it’s because Trista let me tie her to my bed last night or maybe it’s just because I’m currently kicking Kynan’s ass, but I know I’ll hit the green.
Easiest money ever.
I position myself, rocking left and right a few times to get stabilized. My head turns to look at the green once more, down to the ball, back to the green, and finally back to the ball. I swing. When I make contact, I know it’s a good shot. My eyes lock on the ball as it sails down the fairway but only for a moment. I’m so confident I don’t watch it land but rather reach down to pick up my tee. When I stand back up, Kynan’s muttering a curse and pulling his wallet out to hand me fifty bucks.
Grinning, I gladly take his money, loving this day. It started with Trista’s warm body beside me, and I’d forgotten how nice it was to snuggle with someone and wake up all tangled up in each other. She made breakfast—French toast—and then we took a long, leisurely, and orgasmic shower together. She headed home to get some personal things done, and I met Kynan out here at the golf course an hour ago.
Kynan follows the same routine I just did to get ready for his shot. Normally, we’re evenly matched, but I’m riding high today and he won’t be able to come close to the groove I’ve got going. After he tees off, we deposit our clubs back in our bags, which are sitting on hand carts, and we start walking along the fairway to the green.
“I want out by the end of the year,” I tell Kynan, but he doesn’t show any response. Not a jerk, a head snap my way, or even a “what the fuck?”
“Do you have an official buyout proposal?” he asks, getting right down to business.
It’s no secret I want to sell The Jameson Group. Military special ops have been a big part of my life for the past eleven years, but with almost fifteen months of owning The Wicked Horse under my belt, I know this is all I want to do. It’s the next phase of my life. I’m leaving one career and starting another. And who knows, maybe in ten or fifteen years, I’ll start another.
But Kynan is the only one I’d trust to take over the business and keep it within the exacting standards I’ve set. He knows I want out and I’ve slated him to be the one, but he had no clue my timeline would be this fast. I’m sure he felt I’d stay in another five years or so, which is why I’m surprised he’s taking this so casually.
“I’ve worked up an official proposal and my attorney is reviewing it now,” I tell Kynan.
“Without even knowing what you’re going to need,” Kynan says as we continue walking side by side while pulling our hand carts. “I can tell you right now I don’t have the type of money I’m suspecting you’re going to want to buy you out.”
Here’s the thing about private security.
It’s expensive.
Whether we’re protecting a rock star on tour, rescuing a kidnap victim, gathering intelligence, or doing something so top secret we could land in jail and the government would disavow us, the money is a big reason why I created the company rather than stay in the military for my kicks. The Jameson Group has over fifty special operatives around the world and another hundred security professionals. While the professional security services for the wealthy and elite provide the bread and butter from which we survive, it’s the top-secret government contracts where we really earn the big bucks. I personally haven’t netted less than three million a year in my pocket after making sure everyone else is paid very, very well and all expenses covered.
While I haven’t lived frugally, I’ve saved most of it, and I really don’t have to work another day in my life if I don’t want to. But I’m not one to sit around and just play golf all the time, so I’ll always be in business one way or the other.
“I’ve had the business appraised,” I tell Kynan as we approach the green. “It came in around twenty-two million.”
“I definitely cannot afford that,” Kynan says gruffly.
“Relax,” I tell him as I set my cart and pull out a club. “That’s the value over your lifetime. But I want out now and you’re the only one I trust, so I’m prepared to take seven million. Put down whatever you can and I’ll finance the rest by you keeping me on the payroll as a consultant.”
Kynan’s eyebrows shoot upward. “That’s actually a little unfair to you. And why the rush?”
I look back to the tee we just left, not seeing the next group there yet, so we have a few minutes to chat. Kynan walks to his ball, which also hit the green but is further from the hole than mine.
“I want out sooner rather than later,” I give him the answer to his question. “And to let me get out, I’m willing to accept less than the value. I figure six months is enough time to transition you out of field ops and into the office to run the damn thing.”
“What if I don’t want out of field ops?” he asks.
“Then do them,” I say with a shrug. “It will be your business to run however you want.”
“You still didn’t answer my question,” he says with a smirk.
I blink at him. I thought I had.
So he reminds me. “But why now?”
I give another shrug, trying to act casual. I really hadn’t planned on moving this fast, but I want to free up my time. Work has kept me so busy over the years that I haven’t had time for things like relationships, but that’s going to change. Trista has changed me. Changed what I want in life. “I just want to cut back on work. Start enjoying life, you know. I’ve worked my ass off doing dangerous stuff and now I want to take it easy. Is that so hard to understand?”
“Not in general,” Kynan says with another smirk. “But if you want to take it easy with a particular person, then I’m very intrigued that Mr. Screw A Different Pussy Each Night is going to give that up.”
“I already gave it up,” I grumble, taking another look at the last tee. It’s still empty so we aren’t in a rush finish this hole.
“For thirty days was the deal I seem to remember,” Kynan says slyly. “I’m guessing you’re extending that time.”
“Fine, you nosy fuck,” I snarl at him. “Yes… I’m seeing Trista and I want to keep seeing her. I don’t want anyone else, and I want more time to spend with her. Are you happy?”
“Deliriously so,” Kynan says dryly as he lines up to make his putt. I keep my mouth shut, giving him quiet, but I grind my teeth because I know I’m going to take a ton of ribbing from him over this.
To my surprise, from a good twenty feet away, Kynan sinks his putt easily. Content to finish this out, Kynan doesn’t say a word but waits for me to go. I’m only about three feet from the hole and can do this with my eyes closed.
I line up, take a few short putting swings, and then step forward. I look from hole to ball and back, then give it a tiny tap. The ball veers slightly to the right, catching the rim of the cup. I watch as it shoots around and then out again.
“Fuck,” I growl, and Kynan snickers. He’s totally thrown me off my game.
My ball is only about three inches from the hole so I do nothing but reach down and pick it up. It’s a “gimme”.
It’s not until we put our clubs in our bags and start walking along the path to the next tee when Kynan starts in on me. “So… this is real with Trista, huh?”
“Seems so,” I say casually, although what I’m doing feels anything but casual.
“Isn’t she still under your contract period?” he quizzes.
“Four days left, but we’re past that shit,” I tell him. “I’ll give her the money now if she wants it to pay off that loan shark. And by the way, I’ve offered her a full-time job at The Jameson Group so part of the buyout will demand you keep her on board.”
“Seriously, Jerico,” Kynan drawls. “Do you even know if she has the job skills for this?”
“She’d make the perfect receptionist,” I tell him as we reach the tee. “She’s got plenty of experience.”
“But you already have a receptionist,” Kynan points out.
I grimace at the reminder. “Yeah… but I’m going to fire her. She’s always trying to get in everyone’s pants.”
“You’re fucking right she does,” Kynan says, and then points out for his benefit alone, “and she’s gotten into mine several times.”
And mine… but only once, and I don’t do repeats except in select situations with someone like Helena with her husband involved. But still, I don’t really care for her and her work is mediocre. Since I fucked her one time over my desk, she seems to think it gave her the right to be perpetually late to work.
When Kynan realizes I’m not going to give in on this, he switches tactics, and I know this is really what he’s been gunning for. “I can assume then that you’ve given up on that ludicrous idea to show those photos and tapes to Jayce, right?”
“Yeah,” I tell him, realizing how much weight came off my shoulders when I made that decision earlier this week. “Tossed it in my shred bin.”
“I’m glad,” Kynan says softly. “I know you wanted to strike out at Jayce, but that wasn’t the way, man.”
I finally turn to lock eyes with him. “I didn’t know that at first. Trista was nothing to me and I didn’t really care. But that’s changed now.”
“Got yourself a winner there, I think,” Kynan says.
I think of Trista and her great qualities. Her sass and stubbornness, her quick wit and intelligence, but most of all, her humanity. The things she’s done for her niece blow me away, and she’ll make an amazing mother one day.
God, that fucking appeals to me. I’d all but given up on having children after what Michelle and Jayce did, and I know that’s thinking way too far into the future with Trista, but I can see it. I believe we could have something that strong. I think we already do.
“Yeah, I got a winner,” I agree.
His hand comes down on my shoulder, and he gives a squeeze. “I’m glad you’re letting that shit go. Not just the revenge on Jayce, but on letting the betrayal go so you can open yourself up again. I’m glad you’re willing to trust again.”
And that’s really what it boils down to. It’s been almost a month since I’ve met Trista, but I know without a doubt I can trust her. She is just genuinely a good human being. I’m lucky to have found her.
The funny thing is… I’m glad I didn’t open myself up before because I think I was waiting for Trista to come along. After Michelle cheated on me and then aborted our baby, I quite unfairly set her as the standard by which I measured other women, when really… Trista is the standard. She’s what all women should aspire to be, and what all men should hope to have one day.
I get that now.
And I’m ready.