Truce, p.1
Truce, page 1
Truce: Declan
An Eagle Tactical Novella
Willow Fox
Truce: Declan
An Eagle Tactical Novella
Copyright © 2022 by Willow Fox
All rights reserved.
Edited by Halimatobria
Proofread by Lila (no1_scribbler)
Cover by GetCovers
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
About this Book
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Giveaways, Free Books, and More Goodies
About the Author
Also by Willow Fox
About this Book
She just needs a place to stay.
* * *
A better man wouldn’t take advantage. But I will…
* * *
When my friend Jaxson talks me into hosting my high school ex-girlfriend for a few days, I’m not exactly thrilled.
Katie might have had a good reason for breaking up with me—and I do consider college a good reason—but I can’t deny that the memory still stings.
Yes, she’s in town for her aunt’s funeral, and yes, I know the Blue Sky Resort is renovating, but it still stings.
The problem is, I forget all about it when she comes waltzing through the front door of our office.
That’s my Katie. Gorgeous, sweet, nervous Katie.
Now, a published romance author in need of a shirtless cover model…
She wants me for the job, but I want her in return.
How convenient that there’s only one bed in my house…
This is an extended, spicier version of Truce: Declan, which was originally published in Seeds of Love: A Romance Charity Anthology to Benefit Ukraine.
One
Declan
* * *
"Did I forget to mention that Katie is staying with you?" Jaxson grins and smacks me on the back.
Why do I feel like this is a setup? I haven't seen Katie since we were in high school.
Young love.
She went off to college, and I joined the military. It wasn't a happy goodbye, but when do goodbyes usually end in happiness?
"What do you mean, Katie is staying over at my house? Can't she stay with you and Ariella?"
Is he trying to torment me? I rack my brain for anything I’ve done to piss him off.
"Our house is crowded enough with Izzie on the verge of being a teenager." Jaxson shoots me a glare as we grab a coffee at the office together. It's a quiet day for a change with his wife at home looking after their two girls, Olivia and Isabella.
"She's ten," I say. "Hardly constitutes being a teenager."
"Same difference. Anyway, Katie is swinging by this morning on her way into town."
"Why's she in town?" I drink my coffee black. The bitter taste fits this morning's news. Not that I don't adore Katie, but I haven't seen her in nearly two decades. Why the hell is she showing up, and I'm hosting her?
"Her aunt died, so she needs a place to stay during the funeral."
Fuck.
Now, I feel like a giant asshole.
"Okay, sure. I have space on my couch."
"That's funny. I always took you for the gentleman type, letting a girl stay in your bed."
"I'm not having this conversation with you," I warn. He might find the setup amusing, but Katie and I are not compatible. She's a free spirit, creative, and has a bubbly personality.
I'm the complete opposite. I mean, I love kids. I always thought I'd be a dad and settle down.
Katie is the kind of girl that can't hold still. Trying to keep her in one place, we'd have been divorced as soon as the marriage papers were signed. We would never have lasted, even if I'd have stayed in Breckenridge and didn't join the military.
"And what about her sister?" I ask. Who is putting her little sister up for the funeral?
"Lucy? She won't be able to attend the funeral. Her son is sick, so she had to stay behind."
The front door of the office swings open, and the bell on the door jingles to announce her presence. Not that we need a bell. Her heels clack against the floor, and she's dressed in dark slacks and a soft pink shirt that clings to her in the right places.
Katie is no longer the little girl I knew, even though she was petite at eighteen. Now, she's sexy as hell.
Katie slides her sunglasses up onto her head, adjusting to the dim lighting inside the office. "I'm looking for Declan," she says, glancing me up and down.
Does she not recognize me?
She's even more gorgeous than I remember with her long strawberry-blonde hair and a thousand-watt smile. What has she been up to all these years?
"You found him," I say, stepping forward and holding my hand out for an introduction.
"Come here!" Katie squeals and pulls me in for a hug.
For a woman grieving, she doesn't look the part. But sometimes grief does strange things to people.
"How are you?" I ask as I pull back from her embrace. I'm not usually the hugging kind of guy. A good pat on the back or arm with a firm handshake is more my speed.
The smile falters from her lips. "I'm here for Aunt Meg's funeral, but otherwise, I'm doing well. I hope it's okay that I'm staying with you? Jaxson mentioned that he didn't have room, and the hotel outside of town is undergoing renovations. I can pay in cash."
"I'm not taking your money," I say. That's not how we treat guests in Breckenridge. "How about I drive you up to the cabin and get you situated?" I have two homes: the cabin I bought for privacy and the apartment over the auto shop I own.
I hardly stay in the apartment, and while I could now to give Katie space of her own, I'd rather be in her presence. I haven't seen her in forever. And offering her the apartment, that's out of the question.
If the guys at the shop get one look at her, I don't want them harassing her or, worse, falling into bed with her under my roof. And giving her my cabin while I stay at the apartment? Not a chance in hell. I apparently like to torture myself.
"You don't have to work?" Katie asks, glancing behind me at Jaxson.
"Nope, my boss gave me the day off," I say with a smirk.
If Jaxson is having me host Katie for the next couple of days, then the least he can do is give me a free vacation, because I doubt it's going to be joyful and sunny with her. The girl is a fireball.
I grab my keys off the desk and my jacket from the chair, heading out towards my pickup truck. "Do you want to follow me?" I ask, glancing at her vehicle. Thankfully, it's not winter, or she'd never make it up the mountain.
"Sure," she says.
I drive up to my place, with Katie following behind. It takes her a little more work to climb the mountain than she likely anticipated. Her engine roars as she hits the gas, but I try to keep a slow and steady pace so I don't lose her.
I park out front. There's no garage which isn't ideal in winter, but I never got around to building one. Katie parks next to me and climbs out of her car, glancing around. "The view is spectacular. I forget what it's like to be out here."
The cabin is in the thick of the forest, the trees budding and the sun shining down with birds chirping. The leaves rustle in the wind. It's the only sound for miles.
I approach her sedan, glancing in the backseat. "Your luggage. Can I carry it for you?" I point toward the cardboard boxes.
She better not be planning on moving in with me. The girl’s car is full.
"Oh, sure. My clothes are in the trunk," Katie says and steps around to the back of the vehicle. She unlocks the trunk with the key. It's old school. No remote. No automation. The car isn't quite as old as Katie, but close to it.
I grab her pink paisley suitcase and carry it up the porch stairs in one hand, my house keys in the other. Pink must be her favorite color.
"Where have you been living?" I ask, unlocking the front door.
I flip on the lights and place the suitcase inside, near the foyer. The house isn't huge. It's a log cabin with the necessary amenities—a single-story, three-bedroom, two-bathroom home. The only problem is that one bedroom is strictly for work gear, and the other spare room is my gym.
I don't typically have guests over and certainly not ones with their own bedroom. And suggesting anything else would be highly inappropriate. Not that Katie isn't gorgeous, but I'm not going to seduce a girl in mourning.
"What’d you say?" she asks, not having heard or paid attention to my question.
"What have you been up to? Where are you living?" I ask again.
"Chicago, but I forgot how much I missed it out here," Katie says, following me inside.
"What's with all the gear in your backseat?" I ask. “Moving somewhere?”
I shut the front door to the house but don't bother locking it. The curtains are open, letting in warm light filtered through the trees. It's sunny but not overpowering – perfect.
"I brought the boxes for work. Not that I need it this weekend, but I will eventually while I'm on the road."
"What do you do for work?" I can't remember what she wanted to do when she went to college—something with an arts degree. The girl was a butterfly.
"I'm an author," Katie says, and it's the first time I've seen her blush. She glances away, but I catch her tugging her bottom lip between her teeth.
This is news to me. At Eagle Tactical, we've worked with mov
"I doubt it. Unless you like to read spicy romance?" Katie spins around to face me, her nose crinkling and the freckles adorning her face practically glowing. She's radiant under the morning sunlight coming in from the window.
Two
Katie
* * *
This isn't how my devious plan was supposed to go down. Okay, I didn't have much of a plan until halfway across the country on the open roads. It hit me like a bug to the windshield.
I would convince Declan to pose for one of my book covers.
He could easily be a cover model, and while I hadn't seen him in nearly twenty years, I'd stalked him online.
I know, I'm a bad girl. He can punish me. I'd be okay with that.
But how would I tell him what I write for a living?
"It's not porn. That makes it sound trashy, and my books aren't trashy," I say, defending what I write. Not that I should have to defend it, but I'm used to it. Romance writers get so much slack for our work.
Declan smirks. "I didn't mean it as an insult, I promise. Are you going to let me read one of your books?"
Has the room gotten hotter?
I fan myself and take a step back, needing space and distance. I'd settle for a cold shower. Maybe he's married, and I can put a pin in that fantasy. However, I hadn't seen any mention of a wife or children when I stalked him online.
I glance down at his hand. No ring.
Declan doesn't seem to notice or pretends not to when he closes the distance between us. "I've thought about you a lot. I've wondered what you've been up to and if you've had kids, married, and started a family."
"Nope, nope, and nope." I check off each item on my fingers. "Workaholic," I say.
He chuckles under his breath. "Yeah, I know that feeling."
"What is it that you do?" I ask, curious about his job. Last I heard, he enlisted in the military. Army, I think, but I can't be sure.
"Jaxson from high school, he opened his security firm after we came home from the war. I spent a few years as a mechanic with my shop before he dragged my ass in for help."
I glance him over before eyeing the rest of his house. "Can I have a tour?"
"Yeah, sure. Where are my manners?" Declan asks and gestures for me to follow him around his home. It's small, quaint, but twice the size of my apartment in the city.
The house is clean, not exactly tidy, but he wasn't expecting company. When it comes to his bedroom, his house tour is relatively quick, opening his bedroom door to let me peek inside before he shuts it.
"Any chance you still have one of your military uniforms lying around?"
"Why's that?" Declan asks. He folds his arms across his chest, and I swear I can see his biceps flex through his shirt as we stand in the hallway, just outside his bedroom door.
"Okay, don't freak out, but I have this idea that I think you'll love." I grab his arm and drag him into his bedroom. The place is cleaner than I first saw, even his bed is made. But there are dirty clothes stacked in his hamper.
"If it's the two of us having sex—"
I can't help but laugh. "What? Are you rusty in that department?"
"No."
I swear I hear him growl.
He closes the distance between us, and I swallow nervously. I'm better at playing the game, teasing him, than facing my inner demons: the past.
He takes my hand. His palm is warm, his fingers thick, and Declan intertwines our fingers. "I'm no saint, Katie. I haven't waited for you."
I inhale a sharp breath. That's fair. I told him not to wait. That I didn't love him, that he meant nothing to me, and I used him so I wouldn't go to college as a virgin.
It was all a lie.
Declan was leaving to join the military, and I didn't want to face the truth that I might never see him again because he could die. Somehow, pushing him away was easier. I never thought about what it might do to him.
"That's fair," I whisper, staring into his dark brown gaze. "Are you married?" I ask.
Jaxson would have warned me, right?
I'm afraid to break the stare, look around the room, and chance a glance that there might be evidence of someone else.
"I've never been married. No children, as far as I know. No family," Declan says, checking off each item as I had earlier.
"Why?" It's selfish thinking that he's wanted me to waltz back into his life because here I am, ready to start something that I have no business suggesting.
His eyes flicker, and he presses his lips together. He's quiet when he thinks, pensive. "With most women, there hasn't been a real connection."
That's honest. It's more than I deserve. "I never stopped loving you, Declan. I just didn't know how to when I was a kid."
"We were both kids," he says. His gaze never leaves mine. "Why did you bring me in here?"
I laugh, realizing he probably thinks I'm trying to seduce him. That wasn't my end game, although I'd be happy to throw him down on the bed and have my way with him, if we could call a truce. It would certainly beat the fantasy that I've concocted of him.
"As you know, I'm a romance author… and I think you'd look dynamite on one of my book covers." I'm sure that I'm blushing. It sounded so much better in my head, suggesting that he model for me. But my confidence is wavering.
Declan chuckles and pulls me against him for a hug. "Did Jaxson put you up to this?"
"No," I squeak and stand my ground. "I think you'd look great as a cover model. Come on, please?"
The laughter fades, and the smile disappears when the realization dawns on him. "You're serious?"
Maybe I should go back on my suggestion and tell him it is a joke. Except, I think he'd look great on my next book cover.
Shirtless.
With his pants unbuttoned.
Looking fierce and hard.
Okay, so maybe the hard part will be cut out. But a girl can dream, right?
"So?" I ask, staring up at him. "Will you model for me?"
Declan rests his hands on my arms. "Katie, I'd do anything for you. But you do realize that if I model for you, everyone will see it."
"That's the point." A smile grows on my face. "Is that a yes?"
He groans, not entirely on board with the proposal yet. "The guys will never let me live it down.”
"And you worry what the guys think?" I ask. I tilt my head, awaiting his explanation. Since when did Declan care about what others thought?
"I have to face them daily. I don't worry what they think, but I'm not ready to have them humiliate me for the next decade."
"How do you know it'd be embarrassing? Maybe they'll be jealous and beg to be on the next cover for the following book in the series!"
Declan chuckles under his breath. "Convince them to do it, and I'm on board."
That's too easy of an out for him. "I don't care about them. I want you," I say, closing the distance between us.
"Are we still talking about just the book cover?" Declan asks.
His breath lingers against my lips, and I close my eyes, giving in to temptation, allowing myself to kiss him. It's been too many years and sleepless nights.
His hands fall to my lower back, pulling me closer, deepening the kiss. It's better than I remember. Declan is stronger and more experienced. I don't dare think about what that means.
He pulls back, breaking the kiss.
"Is that a yes?" I ask, hopeful.
"Are you using your feminine wiles to convince me to pose for you?"
I laugh at his remark. "I'm not asking you to pose for a centerfold. It's a book cover. I can show you what I have in mind. There are books in my car, and I can show you some of my covers on a laptop or on your phone."
"I know what you have in mind. Ariella, Jaxson's wife, reads those types of books. I've seen them at her desk during lunch."
