Chapter One

Where It All Began

Kingston Cole

4 1/2 Years Ago

"Tatum, I told you a hundred times already," I bark into the phone, "I’m done with you. So, unless you're calling me about my kids, I don’t want to hear from you."

"King, baby, I know you don't mean that."

"Woman, you can’t be this fucking stupid." I run my hands over my face, trying to ease my growing frustration. As much as I want to believe she's putting on an act, I'm beginning to realize she isn't. She doesn’t believe this is happening. "Sign the fucking papers, Tatum."

"I love you, King," she whines over the line. I cringe, trying to ignore the way her voice grates on the last of my nerves. "One little fight, and you're throwing in the towel. Come home. We can work this out."

"What exactly can we work out, Tatum? Tell me, because you know who I am and you know what I do. I know what you’ve been doing behind my back. I don’t see how we can work through any of this when you keep inviting men into the bed we share." I hear a silent gasp and know my accusation has hit its target. But I’m not done, because it’s going to take laying it all out for her to really understand what’s happening and why it’s happening. "I don’t want a woman I can’t trust to keep her legs closed when I’m off doing my job. We don’t love each other. I don’t think we ever did, honestly. There’s nothing to work out; there hasn’t been for a long time. Now, sign the fucking papers so we can both move on with our lives and I can be rid of your ass."

"You’re making a mistake," she chokes, but I'm not having any of it. I'm done.

"No, Tatum, you made the mistake when you let another man stick his dick inside you. Love or not, I would’ve stayed with you until the end, but you went and fucked that up yourself." The thought of her scrawny body crawling back into my bed after letting another man touch her makes my stomach sick. To think it’s been happening for the last few years makes me crazy inside, so much so, I had to leave town. I had to get away from her before I did something I couldn’t undo. "Sign the papers."

"But the kids—"

"Will be fine," I cut her off again, essentially telling her she can’t use the kid card with me anymore. Truth is, I've known about her indiscretions for a while and I’ve stayed as long as I have because of my kids. It wasn’t until my daughter asked why her mother and I always fight, why I hate Tatum so much, that I realized how unhealthy life was becoming for them. I packed my shit that night and filed the papers the next morning. Our children, though young, were relieved. Mom and Dad aren’t fighting anymore, at least not in front of them. "Sign the fucking papers."

She starts to say something, but I can’t listen to her bullshit anymore, so I end the call.

Tossing the phone aside, I lean forward to rest my head against the steering wheel. I take a deep breath, pushing my frustration back into the tiny little box I have marked special for her. The woman knows how to push my buttons, always has. I take a moment to think back, trying to remember why I tied myself to her in the first place. She was a one-nightstand who was barely a blip on my radar. Hell, the details are so fuzzy I barely remember that night at all. I was on leave and drunk off my ass; she was some bar fly looking for a quick roll in the sack. Who was I to complain over easy pussy? If she hadn’t ended up pregnant, I wouldn’t have ever seen her face again.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case, and two months later, she tracked me to down on base and broke the news. After a blood test to prove the kid was mine, I did the honorable thing and married her. I was young, dumb, and beyond naïve to believe it would work out between us. It wasn’t long into our marriage when the problems first began.

I love my kids and stayed for them, but there is only so much of their mother I can handle; most of the time I can’t stand the sight of her. The worst part is that she knows how to get under my skin, and she does it as often as she can, just to get a rise out of me.

A knock on the tinted window of my rental vehicle pulls me back into reality and away from my wandering thoughts. I turn my head to see who it is, but I stop short of unleashing my frustration onto them, because my breath freezes in my chest, my brain stutters, and the emotion disappears completely from my body.

Staring at me are the prettiest green eyes I've ever seen. I swallow hard, my eyes taking in the face they belong to.

Looking at her is like a punch to my gut. She’s absolutely beautiful. Full, thick lashes surround her almost emerald eyes perfectly. Her creamy skin looks soft to the touch, and my palm itches to reach out and test that theory. I'm instantly mesmerized as her tongue darts out from between her lush, pink lips, running along her bottom lip, sucking it in between her teeth to bite down on.

I hold back a groan and blindly reach for the release on my door. I need to know this woman, to hear her voice. Taking a deep breath, I exhale slowly, ignoring the burn in my lungs. She steps away, letting me push open my door. I slide out of the truck without making myself look like an ass.

"Are you lost?" she asks, and the sound of her voice strikes like lightning to my dick, stirring it to life. I've seen a lot of beautiful women, but I've never seen quite anyone like her. She shines brighter than any afternoon sun I've ever seen, shinier than any star in the night sky. She chased away the darkness of my thoughts, and I don't even know her name.

My eyes travel the length of her body, taking everything about her in with great detail. Her dark chestnut hair is pulled back into a braid, but a few strays fall freely around her face. She's wearing light purple scrubs. The uniform is tight across her chest and hips, accentuating her hourglass shape. Her feet are clad in pristine white tennis shoes, made for being on your feet for long periods of time. She looks like she's ready to save lives.

Shit, I curse inwardly. I know who she is. She’s Hudson's older sister. Missy.

"Not lost. I'm looking for Hudson," I tell her gruffly. Hoping she doesn't notice the tightening in my pants. My dick is beyond listening to me at this point. Even knowing who she is does nothing to calm it. I shift on my feet and stick out my hand. "I'm King."

"King?" She snorts and lifts her eyebrows in disbelief. Her eyes darken on me, and I see the realization dawn in them as she places who I am. "Your name is King? Seriously?"

"No, it's Kingston, actually." I smile. She's tall for a woman, much taller than I've been attracted to in the past, but at six foot three I still tower over her. She reaches up and brushes the stray hairs off her face. All I can think about is what her hair would look like spilling over her naked shoulders, the darkness of it contrasting against the paleness of her soft skin. I clear my throat, pushing aside the thought, and look her in the eyes. "The guys call me King."

"The guys? Oh, you mean the morons my brother works with. Are you their leader?"

I snicker, finding her jab cute, but she finds fault in my reaction and sticks out her hip, placing a perfectly manicured hand on it. Her eyes narrow on me even more, but her perfectly groomed eyebrows still hang in the air. It’s almost like she’s challenging me, and the revelation of it all hits me in my gut, making my dick throb.

Fuck, I'm digging her sass and relishing in the fire she's lit inside me.

"You must be Missy." My voice comes out huskier than I intend, but the effect she has on me isn't something I’m able to control. She smirks up at me, confirming I’m right. "Your brother said you had spunk, but damn, baby, this is something else."

"Don't call me baby," she snaps.

"My bad, sweetheart." I lift my hands, admonishing my mistake to her. Hudson warned us a time or two not to get on her bad side. I know better than to piss her off. The last thing I wanted was to rub her the wrong way, not when I needed to get on her good side. No, strike that. I want to get in between both sides to see how fast I can make this woman scream my name.

"Not your sweetheart, either." She turns toward the house for a moment and shouts loudly at the open door. "Hudson, get your ass out here! You have company!"

She turns back to me, not bothering to mask the way her eyes pass down the length of my body, skipping hurriedly past the bulge in my pants. Her eyes stop on the expanse of my chest, and I fight the urge to flex against my already-too-tight shirt.

Yes, sweetheart, check me out. I don't mind it at all.

She rolls her eyes as if she can hear my thoughts and waits for her brother to join us.

The door on the side of the house behind her opens further, and I see Hudson's dark head stick out. A large smile spreads across his face when he sees me, and he quickly exits the house, moving toward us.

"Kingston Cole. Brother, it's good to see you," he shouts, but his eyes dart between Missy and me, assessing the tension brewing between us. "I see you've met queen of the bossy pants, my sister, Mississippi."

She groans, clearly irritated with him, but my body reacts to the sound in a different way. Fighting the urge to scoop her up and carry her away, I cough trying to hide my amusement and clear away the thickness I suddenly feel in the back of my throat.

Fuck, get it together, King!

She looks at me, and I can't help myself. I lean toward her, mustering the most serious look I can. It's hard to do when the breeze suddenly picks up and the scent of coconuts fills my nose.

Shit, shit, shit.

"Queen of the bossy pants? And here I thought I was the only royalty around," I whisper, trying hard to keep my shit together. Her eyes darken again and she leers at me, pushing her bottom lip out in a pout. And just like that, I learn Mississippi doesn't like being teased. I revel in that fact and plan on using it often to my advantage. Teasing her is going to be fun, and I can see myself worming my way under her skin often. Because I want to me be under it, and on it, and pressed against it, licking it, tasting it, biting it.

"Shit, what did you say to piss her off?" Hudson holds back a laugh as he stops in front of us. His gaze flicks between us again before stopping on me in a frown. I lean back and square my shoulders.

"Queenie and I were just comparing royal credentials." I smile and extend my hand to him. He takes it instantly, pulling me in closer for a hug. "How you doing, brother?"

"Better," he says, but I know better. His eyes mimic the trepidation I hear in his voice. I say nothing, because even though he hasn’t been able to hide the truth from me, he has managed to hide it from his sister, and I don’t want to ruin that for him. "How was the drive?"

"Not too bad." I scuff my shoe against the concrete, tucking my hands in my jeans pockets. I get the sense he only wants to make small talk right now, and I’m alright with that for now. It’s clear he isn’t comfortable with his sister here. I’m not sure what exactly he’s told her about the shit in his life, so I respect his wishes. Sticking with a safer subject, I look out at the trees surrounding us. "Preach wasn't lying when he talked about how green shit is out here. All that rain is good for something, I guess."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Missy's hands are on her hips and her eyes are glued to her brother. Shit, I guess I read the situation wrong. She isn’t blind to the fact that he’s holding back and hiding something from her. "This is what you're going to talk about? The fucking scenery and the amount of rain we get?"

"Missy," Hudson warns. His body grows tense and the corded muscles of his neck tighten. I don't know what he's told her, but the way she's acting, it obviously isn't enough to appease her sisterly affection.

"Don't you Missy me, little brother," she huffs, her toe beginning to tap rapidly against the sidewalk. I can't help running my eyes up and down the length of her, impressed at the sight of her completely pissed off. I’m also surprisingly turned on over it, too. Everything about her exudes power, and I can't seem to get enough of the sass she’s throwing. This woman can definitely hold her own. I fucking love it.

"Sorry to disappoint you, big sister, but yeah, that’s usually what you do in polite conversations," he bites harshly. I set back on my heels knowing I need to stay out of this. The last thing I need is to get caught in their crossfire, but I don't like the way he's speaking to her right now.

"You could talk to me," she whispers painfully. He ignores the hurt in her voice, but I can't. The urge to sucker-punch Hudson for being the one to make her feel that way surges through me. I tighten my fist in reaction, something I know he manages to catch out of the corner of his eye. He takes a deep, shuddering breath, reining himself in.

"You need to get to work, sis," he manages, shutting down from her completely. I watch her flinch from the sudden change, but she doesn’t let it stop her from trying to reach him. Even if his sudden coldness does hurt her.

"You want me to leave?” she asks. Her voice cracks and her shoulders slump forward a little. I can hear the thickness in her throat as she fights back the urge to cry. Fuck, I don't like this at all. Now I really want to pound into him.

"Can you blame me?"

Seeing her flinch again, I can’t help finding myself in motion, moving toward him, ready to plant my fist into his face. He looks up at me briefly, and I freeze, stopping in my tracks, because I see what he isn’t ready to show her. He isn’t trying to hurt her on purpose, but he can’t help it because he’s still too fucked up inside to stop it from happening.

Instinctively, I take a step closer to her and shoot Hudson a warning look. He ignores me. I open my mouth to speak, needing to break the tension before it breaks them, but she beats me to it.

"You're such an asshole." Her voice is hoarse, filled with unsaid emotion, but she pushes it aside, and I watch her transform instantly. She hardens herself to him and the emotions raging within her body.

"And you're a nosey bitch," he mutters, no longer holding back his anger. I step in between them this time, glaring heavily at him. He might not be able to control his need to hurt others while he sorts out his pain, but the last person he should take any of his shit out on is her. His eyes meet mine, and I watch as the realization of what is happening dawns on him.

Missy

"Screw you, Hudson," I breathe, feeling a coldness settle around me. If he doesn't want me here, that's fine by me. I've got better things to do with my time. I spin on my heel and move quickly toward my car.

"Shit," I hear him swear, but it means nothing to me. He's sobering from his anger, realizing what just transgressed between us, but it’s too late. I reach my car in record time, but before I can get in and speed away, I hear Kingston call my name.

"Missy, wait up a second," his deep voice calls, and I can’t help looking over my shoulder to see him jogging toward me. I notice Hudson as he hangs his head, burying his hands in his hair, pulling at it, from the corner of my eye. I ignore him.

The chill I feel vanishes as I feel Kingston stop close behind me.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"I understand," he says, and I can hear the honesty in his words. Something about this man calls to something deep inside me. I can’t explain it, but even if I could, I don’t think I should try.

"Look, I'm sorry if I was rude earlier. It's just...you were there for him when I wanted to be and I'm still having a hard time dealing with it." I turn to face him and the honesty pours from me.

"I thought you didn't want to talk about it." He smiles down at me and I shiver. I'm in no way immune to the sexy man in front of me, but I'm not a fool. I know who Kingston is, and I know he's married.

"I don't," I sigh, allowing a little of the wall I placed between us to crumble. This is the man who helped pull Hudson away from the edge, and for that, I should be grateful. I should be kinder to him. "Tomorrow, come over to my place, and I'll make you dinner. Bring my dickhead brother."

I turn away, dismissing the way my heart jumps when I picture him at my dinner table. He shifts behind me, and I feel him press closer, the heat of his body so close I can smell him. Sandalwood and mint.

"Missy," he whispers, sending a chill down my spine.

"Yes?"

"Look at me, please," he pleads. The softness in his voice turns me into a pile of goo. I turn slowly, backing up until I'm pressed tightly against my car. His large body fills my vision as he steps even closer. Too close, but still not close enough.

"Yes?" I manage, forgetting to breathe.

"I was wondering if maybe you know where I could take my crown in and get it polished? I want to look my best for dinner and all." He smiles down at me, his voice playful and light. I smirk, tilting my head to the side.

"You've got trouble written all over you, don't you, Kingston Cole?"

"Oh, Queenie, I'm just getting started." He leans in, stopping mere inches from my face. "Keep throwing sass my way, and I'll show you what kind of trouble I can give you."

"Too bad you’re married, otherwise I might have to take you up on that offer." The reality of my words crash down around me, reminding me exactly who I’m up against, but I notice how my words don’t affect him like I thought they would.

"Damn good thing I’m about to be divorced, then, isn’t it?"

He pushes off the car behind me and turns to walk away. I’m frozen to my spot against my car as the meaning of his words and what just happened sinks in.

Oh, shit.

I'm in trouble.

And if I’m not mistaken from the look of the bulge in his pants, big trouble.