Kinsey nodded. He’d been lucky to have parents who wanted to spend time with him.

  She tipped her face up. The sun was shining and she pulled in a deep breath. She smiled. It felt so good to feel the air on her face, and the sun on her skin.

  She realized Smith was staring at her again, his gaze locked on her lips.

  “What?” she asked.

  “You seem to find pleasure in everything. Even the small things. Especially the small things.”

  Growing up in a dirty trailer with a drunken dad and an angry mom, she’d had to find happiness in the small things.

  “Life’s too short not to,” she said.

  “Yeah.”

  They reached the coffee shop. The tables outside were crowded, and as they moved inside the small space, Kinsey walked toward the counter, smiling. She ordered a skinny caramel latte and, as she suspected, Smith got a black Americano.

  He paid and they waited for their drinks.

  Kinsey spotted a stack of newspapers, and reached out to flick through one. She didn’t often read or watch the news. She found it so depressing.

  She sensed someone move closer to them and glanced up. A tall, fit woman in tight leggings and a cropped sports top—that showed off a set of tight abs—was eyeing Smith like he was water, and she’d been lost in the desert for days.

  Kinsey’s belly clenched. She’d never seen Smith with a woman, but she’d heard Blair and Callie talk before. When Smith hooked up, it was with tall, built women.

  Kinsey knew she wasn’t short, but she wasn’t ripped and athletic, either.

  “Latte and Americano for Smith,” the barista called out. Smith grabbed the drinks, and when he turned, the woman made her move.

  “Hey, there.” The woman grabbed his bicep.

  He frowned and looked down at her.

  Gah. Kinsey had no desire to watch this. The woman acted as if Kinsey wasn’t even there. She reached out and grabbed her drink out of Smith’s hand. Before he could say anything, she spun and headed for the door.

  Turning her back on them, Kinsey headed outside and onto the sidewalk. She sipped her latte, and for the first time in a long time, even her first sip of coffee didn’t taste that good.

  A man bumped into her and she lost her grip on the drink. It flew out of her hand, and hit the concrete, spilling everywhere.

  “Hey,” she complained, looking up.

  She stared into a hard face. He had olive skin, dark, curly hair and eyes so dark they looked black. He wrapped a hand around her arm and started dragging her down the sidewalk.

  Fear spurted to life inside her. “Let me go.” This wasn’t happening again.

  “Shut up and you won’t get hurt.”

  Screw this. Kinsey dropped her weight. It sent the guy off balance, and he cursed in what sounded like Italian as they staggered.

  Her attacker grabbed for her again, but she dodged. She kicked at him, aiming for between his legs. But he twisted at the last minute and her foot hit his thigh.

  He growled, gripped her waist, and tossed her over his shoulder.

  “Let me go, asshole!” She twisted violently, trying to break free.

  Suddenly, there was a screech of tires and a white van pulled up at the curb.

  She sucked in a breath. Oh, no.

  Kinsey kept squirming, desperate to break free. Where the hell was Smith?

  * * *

  Annoyed with the woman who’d stopped him so she could flutter her eyelashes at him, Smith stomped out the door of the coffee shop.

  He was also pissed that Kinsey had headed out without waiting for him. As he opened the door, he heard the screech of tires and Kinsey’s scream.

  Smith dropped his coffee and charged.

  In an instant, he saw some asshole had her over his shoulder, and she was fighting him.

  Smith didn’t make a sound. He shoved through some people, leaped over a chair, and ran. He saw the side door of the van at the curb slide open.

  Hell, no.

  He reached the guy carrying Kinsey and punched him hard in the kidneys.

  The man shouted and dropped her. Smith caught her and yanked her close.

  “Stay back.” He shoved her behind him.

  The guy spun, dark eyes widening as he took in Smith’s form.

  Smith slammed out with another punch, this time catching the man in the gut. He groaned, trying to swing his own fists.

  Smith caught one hand, spun the guy, and shoved his arm up behind his back. And he didn’t do it gently.

  With a choked noise, the man went up on his toes, trying to ease the pain.

  “Let him go.”

  Smith turned his head to look at the man who stepped out of the van. He was aiming a Glock directly at Smith.

  Turning, Smith kept the man he held in front of him like a shield, reached back, and pulled his SIG from the small of his back.

  He didn’t bother with a warning. He kicked the knees out from under the guy in front of him. As soon as the man dropped to the ground, Smith aimed and fired on the second man.

  With a cry, the man jerked, his gun hitting the ground. He clutched his bleeding arm, smacking into the side of the van.

  “Kinsey, get the weapon,” Smith ordered.

  She darted forward and snatched it up. She lifted it, aiming at the bleeding man.

  Smith strode forward, yanked open the passenger door of the van. He reached in and dragged a struggling man out.

  One quick look assured him the van was empty. There were only three of the fuckers.

  Smith dropped the man to the ground beside the first attacker. When he quickly leaped back up, Smith elbowed him in the throat. The man staggered, grasping his neck, and collapsed, gagging.

  Smith yanked zip ties out of his pockets, and quickly started tying the three idiots up.

  “Try to escape,” Smith growled. “I want an excuse to hit you again.” He tied up the final one, dragging them into a line on the sidewalk.

  When he looked up, Kinsey was looking at him, wide-eyed. The café’s crowd was also silent, watching the scene in front of them with shocked expressions.

  “Kinsey, call Brooks. Need some of the team here.”

  She nodded and pulled out her phone.

  Smith reached into the van, and snatched the keys out of the ignition. He took the handgun from Kinsey.

  “Blair and Axel are close,” Kinsey said. “They’re on their way.”

  Smith cupped her cheek. “You all right?”

  She nodded.

  He leaned down and brushed his mouth over hers. Her hands gripped his shirt.

  His chest was tight. She could’ve been nabbed. Again. Anger surged and he tried to keep a hold on it.

  He pulled her up on her toes. “You stay beside me. You don’t walk outside without me.”

  “Smith—”

  “Just nod and tell me you understand.”

  She huffed out a breath. “I understand.”

  Smith turned to the trussed-up, would-be kidnappers. Were these the same guys, or were they now dealing with someone else?

  “Who do you work for?” he demanded.

  All he got in reply were sullen looks and silence.

  Smith took a menacing step closer and watched the men tense. Then he heard the roar of an engine. A red Mustang pulled to a halt behind the van. Blair and Axel leaped out.

  “What the fuck?” Blair frowned at the men.

  “They tried to snatch Kinsey.” Smith heard the fury vibrating in his voice. He looked back at the men. “Who do you work for?”

  Still no answer.

  He took another step closer, and all of them looked uncomfortable. Smith squatted. “Keep it up. I know plenty of interesting ways to get you to talk.”

  “Bruno,” the youngest man blurted out.

  The name meant nothing to Smith. He looked at Blair and Axel, and they both shook their heads.

  Blair pulled out her phone. “Brooks? Yeah, we got here. Got a name for you to run.”

  Axel stood nearby, hands on his lean hips. “What do you fuckers want?”

  “We heard other interested parties were after the woman. That they’d nabbed her before, and there was something big involved.” He licked his lips. “A powerful weapon.”

  Fuck. Smith gritted his teeth. These weren’t even the same guys who’d taken Kinsey the first time.

  Two more cars screeched to a stop beside them. Smith spotted a police cruiser and a Crown Victoria.

  Blair stiffened. “Hell.”

  A tall man unfolded from inside the Crown Vic. He had thick, brown hair that curled at the collar of his dark shirt, and worn jeans. There was a badge clipped to his belt.

  “Blair, always a pleasure.” The man’s long legs ate up the distance between them.

  Blair crossed her arms over her chest, and glared. “I can’t say the same, Detective MacKade.”

  “You beat these guys up?” MacKade asked her.

  Blair’s gaze narrowed. “No.”

  “Sure? I know you have a thing for slamming assholes into the ground.”

  “You keep prodding me, MacKade, and I’ll show you how I beat an asshole up.”

  Axel made a choked sound, and wrapped an arm around her neck. He yanked her back.

  “Nice to see you, Detective,” Axel said.

  MacKade stared at the arm Axel had around Blair for a beat, before turning to Smith. “Got a call that you guys needed some assistance.”

  Smith pulled Kinsey close. “These fuckers tried to grab Kinsey off the sidewalk and throw her in the van.”

  Luke MacKade’s gaze took in Kinsey’s battered face and his jaw tightened. “You’re okay, darlin’?”

  She nodded. “Smith stopped them.”

  “I’m surprised there isn’t more blood.” MacKade waved a hand at the uniformed officers. “Take them in.” His gaze fell on the men, glittering. “We’ll be charging you with assault and attempted abduction.”

  The men all stared at the ground. The uniforms yanked them up, and shoved them toward the cruiser.

  Blair moved. “Come after her again, I’ll yank your balls off and make you eat them.”

  The youngest man blanched, and even the cops eyed her warily.

  MacKade laughed and shook his head. “Bloodthirsty.” Then he leaned closer. “But don’t make me arrest you. I already tidy up the messes you guys leave around Las Vegas.”

  Blair stiffened. “We have an important job to do.”

  “You could stay within the lines when you do it.”

  She hissed and leaned closer. “We save lives.”

  “So do I. Stay out of trouble, Blair.” He nodded at Smith, Kinsey, and Axel, and then strode back to his vehicle.

  Blair looked like steam was about to come from her ears. “That arrogant… Like I want to fight criminals and terrorists for fun.”

  “Cool it,” Smith said.

  Blair dragged in a breath, and when her gaze fell on Kinsey, she managed to rein in her temper. “You guys had breakfast?”

  Kinsey shook her head. “And I only got one sip of my latte.”

  Blair nudged Smith aside, and slid an arm over Kinsey’s shoulders. “Well, let’s hit Griffin’s for some bacon and eggs.”

  When Kinsey smiled, Smith felt something tight inside him loosen. She looked fine after the scuffle, sunshine beaming from her face. Resilient as fuck, and completely irresistible.

  Chapter Seven

  Kinsey was sitting on a stool at Griffin’s Sports Bar and Grill, wedged in between two sets of broad shoulders. Smith was to her right, and Lachlan to her left.

  The rest of Team 52 had met them at the bar, including Seth and his new wife January. They’d heard what had happened to Kinsey, and had cut their Tahitian honeymoon a few days short. She’d been hugged by everyone, and Seth had taken one look at her face and looked really angry.

  The handsome, former CIA operative had glared at Lachlan, who looked equally as angry. “You should have fucking told me.”

  Lachlan lifted his chin. “She’s okay.”

  Thankfully, Blair had sauntered up to the bar to order food and broken the tension. Now they were all seated at the bar, the conversation alternating between the latest football game and speculation on who the hell was behind the attack on Kinsey and the team. She leaned forward, stealing a glance down the bar. On the other side of Lachlan sat his woman, Rowan.

  Rowan said something, her dark-red hair gleaming in the light, and leaned into Lachlan. And the scary, intense Lachlan smiled down at her. Smiled.

  Kinsey sighed. The pair were so in love. The same applied to Seth and January, who just about glowed with happiness. Seth had an arm around his pregnant wife, looking pretty damn pleased with himself.

  Smith shifted on his stool, his hard thigh brushing hers. Every single thought rushed out of her head.

  Lachlan’s phone rang.

  The Team 52 leader lifted it to his ear. “Brooks, talk to me.” A pause. “Uh-huh. Okay. Thanks.” He ended the call and glanced at them all, waiting until the bartender moved away. “Guys MacKade took in are low level. They work for Sam Bruno. Small-time guy here in Las Vegas, with links to the Mafia. Claims he’s descended from one of Bugsy Siegel and Mickey Cohen’s lieutenants from Vegas’ Mafia heyday in the 30s and 40s. They’re into drugs, brothels, loans sharking, insurance fraud. They heard something was going down, got wind of Kinsey’s name, and thought they’d wade in.” Lachlan’s flat, gold gaze met Kinsey’s. “We’ll make sure their interest in you ends now. MacKade’s already paid their boss a visit, and he’s a man who prefers to not be on the LVMPD’s radar.”

  “Any news on the original assholes?” Smith asked.

  “Nothing. Brooks can’t pin them down. There were whispers about some sort of terrorist group, home grown, looking to branch out in bigger ways. But we’ve got nothing but rumors.”

  “Whoever they are,” Smith said, “they’re pretty ambitious, attacking us and going after the artifact.”

  Lachlan nodded. “We all know fanatics will risk anything for their cause, and the power-hungry are pretty damn driven.”

  Kinsey’s belly curdled and she set her fork down. “Whoever they are, they’ll know the artifact they have is fake by now.”

  “You’re safe.” Smith’s big hand engulfed hers. His other one moved to the back of her neck.

  As she looked into his eyes, she believed him. She knew he’d help keep her safe.

  Soon, the conversation drifted to Seth and January’s trip to Tahiti, with some good-natured ribbing about sand in uncomfortable places.

  Smith pulled his phone out and she listened to him organizing for a new security system for her apartment, new locks for her doors and windows, and maintenance to some exterior lights. By the time he was finished, her place would be Fort Knox.

  She sat there sipping her coffee as the others talked. Then she slid off her stool to head to the restroom. Smith grabbed her arm.

  “Going to the ladies’, big guy,” she said.

  He looked over her head, and then Blair and Callie rose as well. Kinsey screwed up her nose. She couldn’t even go to the restroom alone.

  In the somewhat dingy restroom, she did her thing and when she came out of the stall to wash her hands, Blair and Callie were watching her.

  “So?” Callie said.

  Kinsey lifted her head and caught Callie’s gaze in the mirror. The brunette was grinning.

  Blair was nearby, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest. She had a smile on her face.

  “Smith is being very…protective,” Callie said.

  Blair snorted. “Overprotective. That man is in protection overdrive.”

  Butterflies took flight in Kinsey’s belly. “That’s just what he’s like. He’d do the same for any one of us.”

  “No,” Callie said. “I mean, he’d help keep us safe, but he wouldn’t go all growly and defending-mountain-man.”

  “That man wants to drag you to his cabin and—” Blair grinned “—probably tie you to his bed. He likes you, Kinse.”

  “And I really like him.” The confession came out of her in a rush. “But I’ve made that clear before, and he’s pushed me away. He wants to be friends.”

  Both women grimaced.

  “The idiot,” Blair muttered.

  “I think he just feels the need to protect me.”

  Blair shook her head. “He’s not really the kind of guy to talk about his feelings, but he’s been through a lot of tough stuff. He was a damn good SEAL, then he lost his foot on a mission.”

  “I didn’t know,” Kinsey said.

  Blair lifted her chin. “I know he had a terrible year between the SEALs and Team 52 recruiting him. Surgery, therapy, drinking too much.” Blair’s bi-colored gaze zeroed in on her. “That bother you?”

  Kinsey frowned. “What?”

  “His foot.”

  Her frown deepened. “Why would it bother me?”

  Blair relaxed, then shrugged a shoulder. “Some people might see it as a flaw.”

  “That’s crazy. He’s the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen.”

  The two women grinned at her.

  Then Callie’s face turned serious. “And then there was his wife.”

  Kinsey jolted. “Wife?” Smith was married? She felt like she was going to hyperventilate.

  “Ex-wife, now. He got hitched straight out of high school. By the sounds of things, she was a real bitch. Was honey-sweet at first, then she changed, spent his money like crazy, had a drug problem. He tried to help her, but she just wanted to party. He finally divorced her ass and joined the Navy.”

  God. Kinsey tried to take it in. What kind of woman would Smith marry? More importantly, what stupid woman would let a man like him slip away? Was she the reason he preferred being alone?

  “Look, whatever’s going on, right now, we have to focus on finding these bad guys.” Kinsey knew they were all still in danger. Whether Smith was into her or not wasn’t important.

  “Don’t you worry about the bad guys.” Blair patted Kinsey’s back. “We’re going to sort this out and we’ll keep you safe.”

  Callie winked. “Especially Smith.”

  Kinsey sighed, and together, the three of them headed back to the bar. She saw that the rest of the team had finished and were standing near the door.