Accidental Wedding (Alpha Agency Protectors Book 6) Read online

  Alpha Agency Protectors 6

  Accidental Wedding

  By:

  Scarlett Winters

  Copyright 2020 Scarlett Winters

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any way or by any means. Including but not limited to recording, photocopying, any electronic methods, without the prior written consent of the publisher. This book is strictly a work of fiction, any references to persons, places or things are all completely fictional.

  Warning: This book is for adult audiences.

  Contents

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  Chapter 1- Shane

  Chapter 2- April

  Chapter 3- Shane

  Chapter 4- April

  Chapter 5- Shane

  Chapter 6- April

  Chapter 7- Shane

  Chapter 8- April

  Chapter 9- Shane

  Chapter 10- April

  Chapter 11- Shane

  Chapter 12- April

  Chapter 13- Epilogue Shane

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  Chapter 1- Shane

  There’s a rumbling beneath me and a weight in my hand. I’m laughing at a joke I don’t remember and staring off at an empty horizon. Suddenly, I’m airborne. I squeeze my eyes shut against the blur of tan and orange that’s everywhere. It’s followed a second later by the loudest sound I have ever heard. It’s like a boom, an explosion, but it echoes in the strangest way.

  I stop falling, but I don’t feel the landing. Was I unconscious?

  The tan and grey blur above me starts drifting and I can see the sky again. I roll to my side and fight a wave of dizziness to stand up. As I move, a tight pain surges across my back and I cry out in pain.

  I choke on the smell of burning that fills the air and double over, coughing. The motion jars my back. The smoke is back and now it is so bad that I can’t see where I am. I wander around in a daze. Where am I? What am I doing?

  Tripping, I fall to the sand and look around in confusion. There’s something big next to me—it’s metal. A truck, maybe?

  Where is everybody?

  I feel like I’m forgetting something…

  Forcing myself to stand back up I stagger around the tipped over vehicle, looking for someone to tell me what’s going on.

  “Shane…” The pained whisper is soft, but it might as well have been a scream in the silence. I chase the sound until I come across a crumpled form against the sand. The person’s shoulder is damp when I turn them over and I gasp in shock.

  It’s Brad.

  As I wrap my arms around my injured friend, he opens his mouth to say something, but all that comes out is an almost automated sound… something about a flight…

  I jerk awake and sit frozen for a good minute before realizing that I’m not in the desert anymore. I’m not overseas. I’m in the United States. I’m on a plane. It has been months since my team was attacked. Brad has been dead for months. I am safe.

  I have to repeat these undeniable facts to myself several times before my heart rate settles back to something approaching the normal range.

  Scrubbing a hand down my face, I make an effort to pay attention to the flight update as the plane approaches Las Vegas. I hadn’t wanted to go on vacation, but my commanding officer had told me that it was this or extensive therapy. He was of the thought that time away from the job was what I needed.

  I disagree.

  My job is my life—I’m not taking a week away from the office, I’m a goddamn Green Beret. I need to be out there. When I’m doing my duty I’m focused, concentrated only on the task at hand. Being on vacation leaves me way too much free time to think, and I don’t have a whole lot of good things to think about right now.

  My best friend was killed. Sure, it’s been a couple months, but Brad wasn’t just my friend and teammate—he was my partner in the field. I trust all the guys on my team, we were all friends, brothers really. They’ll have my back no matter what. But Brad and I relied on each other.

  Now he’s gone, along with the rest of our team and I just feel so… lost.

  Despite coming from a big family, I don’t make friends very easily. When I joined the Green Berets, I thought that that was it: Despite the risks, those would be the guys who’d be with me for life. Unfortunately, that’s not how it worked out.

  We were heading out in our transport vehicle and I was sitting in the way back, keeping an eye on the road, making sure we weren’t followed. We hit an IED and the force of the explosion tossed me out of the vehicle. I hit the ground hard and was knocked out. The vehicle flipped over and the gas tank caught fire. It was really bad—most of my buddies died on impact.

  Except Brad.

  I keep dreaming about how I found him. He passed after only a few minutes, and it makes me sick to admit it, but I’m glad I was there to say goodbye to him. He was such a major part of my life.

  He’s the reason I decided to try going to Las Vegas for my imposed vacation. Brad loved it. The bright lights, loud music, flashy attractions—he grew up in California, so Las Vegas wasn’t very far and he and his parents would go there for vacations when he was younger.

  I guess this is my tribute to him. I’m going to go to Las Vegas, try to have a good time, recover from what happened, as ordered.

  The physical recovery was fairly easy. I had a nasty concussion and some fractures and broken bones along with many first degree burns and several nasty second degrees, but nothing that would take me out of the game.

  Chapter 2- April

  “Flight 217 to Las Vegas will be boarding in fifteen minutes,” the overhead announcement said. I look around but still no sign of my best friend. Where is she? This whole trip was her idea!

  From deep within my purse my phone buzzes and I scramble to get it out. “Hello?”

  “Hi April!” Kim giggles over the line.

  “Hi, where are you? Our flight is almost boarding!”

  “Yeah, about that…” Kim trails off with another giggle. Oh no. I knew my best friend was a flake, but really? She wouldn’t bail on a trip out of the state, that she paid for… would she?

  “I’m not going to Vegas with you, April.” Apparently, she would.

  Okay, April. Deep breaths.

  “And why not?” I ask.

  “Nathan finally asked me out!” Kim squealed. I actually have to pull my phone away from my ear at the pitch of it.

  “That’s great Kim,” I muster up some enthusiasm for her. She’s been trying to get her tennis instructor to see her as something more than a student for a couple of months now. It has been an ongoing topic of conversation. “Why does that stop you from coming to Vegas with me?”

  “Well, you see Nathan has a place in Malibu and he wants to spend some time getting to know me, if you know what I mean!” She giggles more and I sigh. Kim must hear the irritation in my voice because she continues
. “You should totally still go though. Everything’s all set up!”

  Well, she’s got me there. It was Kim’s idea for us to go on a “girl’s trip”. I was thinking we would go to a spa and get our nails done, that way I could still get some extra shifts in at the restaurant. But no, Kim said she wanted to do something more exciting, something she doesn’t already do twice a month. Hence, the trip to Las Vegas.

  As we say our goodbyes, I ponder how I got here.

  I met Kim through a local volleyball team when we were kids. Even though I consider her my best friend, to this day our friendship surprises me. She comes from money, a lot of money. Kim is the one who financed our trip, paying for roundtrip plane tickets, hotel rooms, the works. Well, it’s technically her father’s money but he lets her do whatever she wants with it. Sometimes, I feel a little like I might be using Kim—I never had a lot of money growing up. I was quiet and spent most of my time in my own head—I still do. I was also home schooled, so I never really met people my own age. Kim’s a flake, but she’s familiar and we have a lot of fun together.

  Despite her flaws, she’s a good person. Although, it might take me awhile to get over her breaking the sacred “sisters before misters” rule that exists between all girlfriends! I know I will though. I’m not one to hold a grudge, and she’s really wanted to get to know Nathan better. She goes through boyfriends at an impressive speed, but Nathan is the first man she’s talked about for this long before losing interest. Even though we both know what the innuendo behind “get to know better” entails, she really is interested in him. I can’t begrudge my friend a chance at happiness.

  “Flight 217 from Phoenix, Arizona to Las Vegas, Nevada is now boarding, please proceed to…”

  Following the directions from the loudspeaker, I shake myself out of my ponderings and make my way through the airport terminal. Las Vegas, here I come.

  Chapter 3- Shane

  Sitting at the hotel bar with a double Jake Daniels, watching the world go by is not as bad as I expected. The hotel that I’m staying in is nice without being over-the-top fancy. I still feel a bit out of place in my button-down shirt and nicest pair of jeans, but I’m just having some drinks before heading to bed. The plane ride took more out of me than I expected. I suspect it has more to do with the dream I had than the ride itself. If I’m being honest, I’m not looking forward to going to sleep tonight. My nightmares seem to be worse when I’m sleeping in a new place. It may not be the smartest coping mechanism but drinking a fair amount has proved to be a successful way to self-medicate myself to sleep.

  I plan on hitting the roulette tables later this week, putting money on numbers that were important to the guys on my team. Their birthdays, lucky numbers, years they’d been married, those sort of things. I’m not in it for the money so much as a way to remember them. My commanding officer told me to “try not to think about what happened out there, okay?” when he told me to take a vacation but like hell is that happening. It’s all I can think about. This way, I’m at least thinking about my buddies in a positive way, instead of the way they were killed.

  As it is, Las Vegas isn’t as bad as I was expecting… at least, not yet.

  To get into the hotel I had to walk past a couple of people who were smoking outside. I held my breath, thankful for the underwater class that I took during basic training that taught me about air conservation.

  Most people think that loud noises trigger reactions in soldiers with PTSD. And they do—I’m sure as hell hoping that there aren’t any fireworks this week, but my luck’s never been that good—but for me, smells have been the worst. Smoke is especially bad. I burned a pizza in the oven during my medical leave and ended up on the floor shaking before I knew what hit me.

  Besides that, and the recurring nightmares, I’m doing okay. I should probably call my family, let them know that I’m stateside and on vacation, but then I would have to go see them. It’s not that I don’t love my family, I really do. They’re just all former or current military. They’ll understand what I’m going through. In any other family, that might be a good thing, but in mine? I don’t want to burden them with my own trauma. Collectively, they have enough of their own and I don’t want my parents worrying about me. My father lost his leg in an IED and my mother’s an army doctor. They know all too well the injuries that can happen in the field.

  When I was first in the hospital recovering from what happened, they came to see me and the looks on their faces hurt almost as much as the memories of what happened.

  I’ve just ordered a second drink from the bartender when movement out of the corner of my eye catches my attention. I look up.

  The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen just walked into the hotel bar.

  She’s not dressed near as fancy as some of the other patrons in their suits and sparkly skirts. Instead, she’s wearing a floral sundress that hugs her slender body. Pale blonde hair dances across her delicate shoulders as she makes her way to the almost full bar. The only seat open is one next to me. When I see her looking around, eyes wide, I gesture to the seat next to me.

  “This one’s open, if you like?” I tell her.

  A small smile crosses her face and she slowly approaches.

  “Thank you,” she replies. I almost can’t hear her over the din of the bar.

  “You’re welcome.” I go back to my drink. Out of the corner of my eye I watch as she perches on the bar stool. She practically has to jump to get up there, she’s such a tiny little thing.

  I pay attention as she tries to flag down the bartender with little success. It’s not fault of his—the man is just really busy. Not able to help myself, I chuckle.

  “What?” She turns to look at me.

  “Would you like some help? It is pretty loud in here.” I make sure she knows I’m not patronizing her with my offer. Okay, sue me. I’ve always had a little bit of a white knight complex, especially when it comes to a pretty girl. To my relief, she laughs.

  “Yes please!”

  “What are you drinking?” I turn in my seat to face her fully and almost miss her answer of “cosmopolitan” when I look her in the eyes. They’re a pure, icy blue that sparkle in the bar lights.

  After I order her drink, I realize something. “I didn’t ask your name?”

  “I’m April Brache. And you?”

  “Sergeant Shane Gilman,” I automatically respond with my rank and hold out a hand for her to shake. Her hand is small in mine, her grip surprisingly strong. Unlike most women, she’s not wearing any jewelry on her fingers or wrists and her nails are clean but cut almost to the quick. “Do you work with your hands?” Before I can think about it, the question is out there. I’m about to apologize for asking something so random and rude when she answers.

  “Yeah actually, I’m an artist. Pottery. How could you tell?” She cocks an eyebrow.

  “Your hands.” I’m still holding them. “They’re strong, but sensitive.”

  “Thank you,” April says softly. Is she blushing?

  Her drink arrives and she takes a sip. “So, what are you doing here?”

  How much should I tell her? I really like this girl, she’s like a breath of fresh air. The thing is, my story isn’t exactly something that should be delved into over drinks with a stranger. I give her the summarized version.

  “I’m on leave—vacation, really. What about you?”

  “This was supposed to be a girl’s trip, but my friend bailed at the last minute so it’s just me.”

  “I can’t imagine why anyone would bail on you.”

  Chapter 4- April

  A blush rises to my cheeks and I hurriedly take another sip of my drink, hoping Shane doesn’t notice.

  I can’t help but notice everything about him. Walking into the hotel’s bar, I was feeling so out of place, since everyone else is so dressed up. This sundress is one of the nicest outfits I own. Waiting tables does not exactly leave me extra money to spend on fancy clothes. If Kim had decided to stick to the plan and
come with, she would have lent me one of her party dresses. Then again, I would have been incredibly uncomfortable in a tight metallic dress with a slit up the thigh. Despite the outfit, there’s no way I would’ve been comfortable enough to sit down at a bar without the fear of flashing someone. And boy am I glad I came to this bar!

  Next to me, Shane looks casual, but oh so good. His jeans are practically painted on and the white shirt he’s wearing almost glows against his tan skin and dark hair. When he first called me over to him, I was a bit nervous. One look into his warm chocolate eyes and I realized that he was someone I could trust.

  Looking into his eyes after he says what he did about Kim bailing on me, I glance up at his face. He’s smiling softly, but in a way that tells me he doesn’t do it often—like the muscles are out of practice. Despite his strong appearance—and he is so obviously military, what else could he be with those muscles? —there’s something about him that’s almost fragile.

  “What are your plans for the night? Are you going out?” Normally I wouldn’t be so forward, but I’m on my own in a strange city. I feel comfortable with Shane—I want to get to know him more. I was planning on wandering around a little bit, seeing some sights before I turn in for the night. At least, that was the plan before I saw how crowded it was everywhere—on a weeknight, no less!

  “I was planning on turning in after this drink, but I’d much rather spend some more time with you, if you’re offering.” His smooth voice has just a bit of an accent and get the sudden image of him as an old-fashioned southern gentleman. It’s an attractive image, for sure.

  “I am,” I say and finish my drink. “So, what’s fun around here?”

  “No clue, I’ve never been here before,” he answers. “Want to take a look around?”

  The only thing I can say to that is an enthusiastic “Yes!” and I go to pay for my drink before Shane’s hand on my wrist stops me. He tells me that he’s got it covered and I nod my thanks.