Chapter 13

Carrie

After a visit from a doctor, who tells me I have a mild sprain, and tells me I’ll need to take some time off work, he hastily scrawls me a prescription and walks out of my room.

I pack, my movements robotic and wooden as the agent assigned to me watches on.

When I’m finally allowed to leave my room, it’s with explicit instructions to go directly to my car and avoid my family until I have clearance to speak to them.

Since I don’t want to see them right now, and I don’t think I could take another verbal attack from my mother, I do what I’m told and just get in the back seat of the car they have waiting for me.

Any humiliation I felt is further compounded knowing I’ve already been found guilty by association.

In my wildest dreams, I never could have guessed Hadi was involved in something like this.

He was a talented chef, and he’d seemed so personable, so likable. But isn’t that the point? Aren’t the worst serial killers the ones who can blend into society and never get noticed?

I smother a groan. How did my life turn into this? In a few days I’ve experienced almost every emotion under the sun, been paralyzed by fear, had a gun held to my head by the man who gave me the best sex of my life, I’ve won a battle with my mother, and now I’m in trouble with the FBI.

For about three seconds, I thought I was finally turning a corner, and making progress.

I had a job offer, a victory over my mother, and a possible connection with a man who I thought was a mechanic.

It must have taken three minutes to ride down to the basement. Three minutes to have all that snatched away from me.

I stay silent, staring out the window as I try to figure out where the blame for this mess lies.

When I keep coming back to either myself, Hadi or Xavier I realize I’m just going around in circles.

If I had taken the job, would I have been in worse trouble? Would I have unwittingly joined their cult or terrorist cell, or whatever it is?

I huff an exasperated sigh and try to distract myself thinking about Danny and Tina instead.

I want to tell Danny I know he’s gay and that I understand why he’s hiding it. But how can I? I can’t exactly call him. That’s not fair, and he’ll just deny it and it’ll drive a rift between us.

The only thing I can do is wait for him to come out and be there to support him when he does.

We’re almost at the turnoff to Frasier’s Gully when I think about calling him and maybe dropping a few hints, and mentioning he has nothing to fear from telling me.

Unsurprisingly there are multiple calls from both Danny and Tina, but it’s the call from my boss that came in just fifteen minutes ago that makes me risk using my phone.

The agent sitting beside me, gives me a look. “I’m checking my voice mail,” I mumble to her.

She nods and looks straight ahead as if this is entirely beneath her. I still don’t understand why Xavier is working with them, and right now, with my arm in a sling, I’m not sure I care.

I check my voice mail and ignore all the worried ones from my siblings until I hear my boss Jared O’Neil’s voice.

“Carrie, it’s Jared. Call me immediately.”

I’m so flustered I drop my phone before I hit the call button. He must be expecting me because he picks up before I even hear it ring.

“Jared? It’s Carrie. I’m on my way back, is something wrong?”

He almost splutters the words. “There is most definitely something wrong. Would you like to explain to me why an FBI agent just knocked on my door?”

I can’t even begin to explain so I just grip the phone a little tighter. “It’s a mix-up. One that I’ll do everything—”

He cuts me off and I know he’s already made his decision. “I’m sorry Carrie. I really am. But I think it’s best I don’t renew your contract. I’ll pay out your remaining term, and I’ll have a written termination and your things in the mail tomorrow.”

I’m so devastated, I can’t even speak. “Whatever it is you’re involved in, I hope you understand why I can’t be.”

With that he ends the call.

I stare out the window as tears burn my eyes.

No longer caring about the agents surrounding me, I let the phone slide from my fingers and start to cry.

***

Xavier

I’m doped up, and still hazy about what happened between leaving the resort and getting airlifted to hospital when I see Jake breeze in the room.

His hair is shorter, regulation buzz-cut, and he’s bulked out a little more since I saw him last, but the smirk is still ever-present as he takes a seat.

“Mom and dad are waiting, doc said only one visitor at a time,” he says.

I grimace more from having to face mom and dad rather than pain. If my family know, Julie must have meant it when she said I needed some R&R.

“You quit training,” I say.

He bobs his head. “Yeah. It’s not for me.”

A flare of annoyance overrides my drug-laced fatigue. “You need to start taking things seriously. You can’t just quit when things get hard.”

He shifts in his seat. “I didn’t come here to fight with you. I came to see if you were okay. They won’t tell us anything, mom and dad might be used to this, but I’m not.”

I shake my head. “You got a girl pregnant. How did that happen?

His smirk is firmly back in place. “You gave me the sex talk, dude.”

I frown at him. “I did?”

He shrugs. “You probably don’t remember. It was when Dad was away at some training thing for a few months. You gave me condoms, and we spent all night talking about girls.”

I shake my head, wondering if he’s back on drugs again. “What are you talking about? Dad was there for that.”

He chuckles. “You always had a shit memory for emotional stuff. It’s like you just block it out.”

I’m now thoroughly convinced he’s off his head, but since I’m having trouble focusing on him, I carry on talking like he’s making some sense. “I remember plenty. I remember the barbeques in the backyard. I remember...”

I squint at him as a hazy memory replaces one I had in mind. “Helping you with your homework, helping mom with the taxes.”

He nods slowly. “Yup. And that was you cooking the hamburgers in the backyard. And it was you mowing the lawns and taking out the trash each night.”

Why didn’t I remember any of that?

“Huh,” I grunt.

Jake nods so sagely I want to punch the smugness off his face. “Selective memory. You wanted dad to be better than he was, so you made him what you needed him to be.”

This time I do manage to punch him, even though it hurts like a bitch. “Fuck off. I know he wasn’t there a bunch, but he was a good dad when he was home.”

Jake rubs his shoulder. “Yeah, maybe. I dunno. I just know that when I started the training it was because I thought I could, you know, emulate you and not him.”

I’m so surprised, I’m sure I must be hallucinating all this. “That’s why you joined?”

He nods. “Joined. Yeah. Left, no. I left because I knew if I stayed I’d end up giving my kid the life I had. And as much as I wanted a career, I couldn’t do that.”

I gape at him and screw up my face in the hopes he’ll morph back into the whiny, bratty kid brother I thought he was.

But he’s not a brat. He’s doing what I’d always wanted him to. He’s growing up.

“What are you going to do for a job then?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t know. Anything. Long as I’m home when my kid needs me.”

My head flop backs on the pillow, and I mumble more to myself. “What about mechanics? I can teach you…”

I must have fallen asleep because when I wake up Jake is gone, and Julie is scowling at me.

“What?”

She frowns. “You were talking in your sleep about your dad, and about your brother.”

I’m not sure why she looks so pissed off at me until she looks at the door. “I hope this isn’t something you do when not on medication. You could be giving away untold secrets and not even be aware of it.”

Since I’m fairly certain I don’t normally talk in my sleep, and I know she’s referring to Carrie, I decide I may as well ask about her.

“Is she off the hook? You must have seen the security footage clearing her by now?”

Her lips press together. “We’re talking to her family and friends, and checking her phone records, and credit card statements.”

Irritation surges through me. “That’s bullshit and you know it.”

She doesn’t even have the decency to look at all bothered by effectively harassing an innocent person.

“Every single employee is undergoing the same level of scrutiny.”

I shake my head. “She’s not an employee.”

But she’s fully prepared to argue with me. “She would have been. Hadi offered her his position. That means they were grooming her.”

That’s still no reason to investigate her. “Do you even have anything on the owner?”

From the set to her shoulders and the way her jaw is working I have my answer.

She can’t find anything on the larger target, billionaire Heinrick Ulner, so she’s going after Carrie instead.

I’m done discussing this with her. “You’re going to destroy her entire life if you carry on with this.”

Her lips tug downwards. “If she’s got nothing to hide, then we won’t find anything.”

I shake my head. I’ve heard that excuse too many times to mention. “You know that’s not how things work. It’s a witch hunt. You start down this road, she’ll never be able to clear her name.”

The slightest flickering of emotion shows on her face making my sluggish heart rate pick up. “What?”

Julie has the grace to avert her usually unrelenting gaze when she speaks. “She was fired.”

I’m so angry I can’t even speak for a few beats.

“She did nothing wrong. And she’s still being treated like a criminal. How is that justice…”

I have to stop myself from finishing. I’m sounding exactly like the men we’re trying to stop.

But why does it have to be all or nothing? Can’t I serve my country and not feel like I’m forgoing the things I’m fighting to protect?

Julie isn’t the person to be discussing this with. When my dad gets here I know he’ll tell me to suck it up.

But my dad isn’t here right now. And Jake was right. He never was there when I needed to talk things through.

I learned to solve my own problems, and if Jake remembers correctly, his too.

I’m beginning to think maybe Carrie wasn’t entirely wrong to say there’s a part of me that did resent his absence at the time I needed him the most.

In a lot of ways, I can understand why someone in the military would take a job in a luxury resort.

At twice the pay, half the stress, and time to spend with family, it would be so easy to allow someone else’s doctrine to slowly undermine your beliefs.

I know I must be still under the influence of the drugs when I start contemplating what a cushy little job in some resort would be like.

But when my mind starts to wander, guided by drugs or not, I still can’t picture it without Carrie beside me.

“I need some time to think about my future involvement in the Cobra program,” I say.

Julie sighs. “Because of her?”

“No. Because of me,” I say.

***

Carrie

Wednesday 6.12am

Since I’m not welcome at work anymore Aleki has agreed to meet me at the Farmer’s market, rather than send my things the way Jarod wanted.

I’m waiting at one of the stalls, my hands wrapped around a Styrofoam coffee cup when I spy a familiar face in the crowd.

Rather than Aleki, it’s Danny walking towards me with a hesitant smile on his tanned face.

Since I haven’t spoken to him other than a hasty call to say I was fine and on the way back to Cali, both Tina and Danny have been strangely quiet.

The second Danny hugs me, I know something has happened. “What are you doing here?”

He’s missing his characteristic enthusiasm as he takes my coffee from my hands and sips it.

“The FBI asked us a bunch of questions about you. Is that why you just took off like that? Are you in some kind of trouble?”

I flinch. I should have expected this. “A little.”

He frowns. “Mom went ape shit, so don’t expect a Christmas card this year.”

I manage a smile as he looks around us. “So, what’d you do? They’re saying on the news there was some bomb threat, and that’s what they told us, but I know bullshit when I see it. Something else was happening wasn’t it?”

I chew my lip and wish I could tell him the truth. “I can’t talk about it so please don’t ask. I’m in enough trouble already.”

I think he’s about to argue, but thankfully he lets it drop. “You’re okay though?”

I punch his shoulder a little too hard, and he spills some of my coffee. “I’m fine. I’m tough.”

I think he’ll laugh and tell me I’m not but he nods slowly. “You are. Always were. That’s why I envy you.”

I choke on a laugh. “What? My life is a joke. I have no job, no man, and everyone thinks I’m a terrorist.”

A wry smile curls his lips. “You’re braver than I am. I wish I could talk to mom the way you did.”

I try to offer him a smile but he won’t look me in the eye. “I met someone. Someone who makes me happy.”

I swallow and paste a smile on my face to encourage him. “That’s wonderful. I’m so pleased for you.”

His smile fades. “Yeah. It’s great.”

He seems so lost, so completely unlike his normal jovial self, I want to let him know his secret is safe with me.

But when I see Aleki in the crowd holding a box of my things, I know I’ve lost my opportunity.

I’m pretty sure Aleki and Danny know each other so it’s no surprise when Aleki smiles in Danny’s direction.

What is a little more surprising is the color that brushes Danny’s cheeks.

Oh! Oh!

To hide my amusement at Danny’s obvious interest in Aleki, I gesture to them both. “Danny, you remember Aleki?”

Aleki extends his hand, but Danny just swallows and stares at me. I’m about to tell Danny off for being rude when Aleki sighs. “Don’t be a dick.”

My eyes pop as Danny scowls in Aleki’s direction. “I’m not ready for this.”

Aleki slowly shakes his head and offers me a one-armed hug. “Don’t mind your brother, he’s still working through some trust issues. I told him you are the last person to judge, but you, know, Ava syndrome. Similar to Stockholm Syndrome.”

Anger flashes across Danny’s face. “I told you I’d tell her in my time. Why do you always have to push me?”

With that he storms away taking my coffee with him. I must look as stunned as I feel because Aleki chuckles.

“Yeah. Sorry. Danny thought it’d get weird at work if we told you.”

I take the box from his hands, and don’t seem to be able to find the words to convey how I’m feeling. “Is this serious?”

He shrugs. “He’s a little melodramatic for me, but I guess that’s understandable given your family.”

I’m still slightly stunned this has been going on under my nose for so long. Am I so completely clueless? Or are people just extremely good at hiding who they really are?

“I’m kind of in shock. I mean I knew he was gay, Xavier—”

Aleki’s eyebrows rise. “This is the mechanic?”

Since it’s obvious Danny has been talking to Aleki, I nod. “Mechanic and Green Beret.”

And who the hell knows what else.

Aleki looks impressed as he walks with me to the coffee vendor and buys me another since Danny stole mine. “So where is he now?”

I take my coffee and shrug. “I don’t know. It’s complicated. There was this…um, thing.”

He chuckles. “Isn’t there always?”

After this weekend, it’s nice to know I have at least two people who are still talking to me.

I release a long sigh and watch the crowd around us, buying produce, a lot of them from kitchens around the area. “I’m going to miss this. It was one of my favorite places to come. Right before work, before it got busy.”

Aleki’s smile is just as warm as it always was. “It won’t be the same without you. And I’m not just saying that, it’s the truth.”

I smile back at him and adjust the box under my arm. “Thanks.”

He looks at me struggling, and takes the box back off me. “Let me walk you to your car.”

We keep talking right up to the moment I see an agent lurking by my car, waiting for me.

With a sigh, I take the box from Aleki, and when he walks away, looking more than perturbed, I try not to scowl as I get back in my car.

I may have some friends left, but if FBI agents keep following me around, for how much longer?

***

Three weeks later

Carrie

Rather than accept defeat, I’ve spent the last three weeks trawling the internet for possible jobs.

With each rejection, each polite ‘We’re not hiring’ I know the damage to my reputation has already been done.

Somewhere between a three-star restaurant owner hanging up on me, and the knowledge my savings account isn’t large enough to sustain me living in this apartment, I’ve started to look for jobs outside California.

I’ve even started daydreaming about going on a long vacation, and maybe not telling anyone in my family where I am.

Caught between hope I can salvage my career somehow and wondering if the FBI is going to start restricting my internet use my life has turned into an unending worry fest.

I’ve barely slept and despite assurances this is more for my own protection I’ve grown increasingly paranoid I’m going to get hauled off to an unknown location.

Three weeks ago, I had an on and off again boyfriend, a job, and the freedom to go where I wanted, anytime, anyplace, and anywhere.

Now, thanks to one stupid distracted mistake at the resort, I’m jumping at shadows, and am too afraid to leave my house.

I’m looking at a job in Houston when a knock at the door makes adrenaline rush through my body.

I’m so anxious my hands start to shake as cross the room and use the peephole to peer outside.

My relief at not seeing agents outside, is replaced by molten anger when I see Xavier waiting for me to open my door.

Since he’s my first visitor in weeks, and the first person I’ve spoken to other than the FBI agents following me at random, I should be happier to see him.

And a part of me is happy he’s up and about, but the larger part of me wants to blame someone for the injustice of what’s happened.

I wrench it open and near spit the words at him. “What do you want?”

He backs up a step. “To apologize.”

Since my neighbors now already avoid me like the plague, I don’t even bother to lower my voice.

“Really? And how about telling me what was really going on?”

He grimaces. “I can’t tell you anything more than you already know. And it’s better if we talk inside. You still have an agent stationed down the hall.”

I was so angry at seeing him, I’d forgotten about that. With a sigh, I step back and gesture inside.

“How can you work with these people? Being watched, having no privacy? No wonder you wanted to live in that shitty little apartment.”

There’s an element of resignation on his tone I don’t like hearing. “I tried to tell—”

“Are you saying this is somehow my fault? I lost my job. My family think I’m some sort of anarchist. If you were a half-decent man you would have warned me. I never would have got in that elevator if you’d told me there was reason not to.”

He flinches as though I’ve struck him. “I couldn’t tell you anything. I wasn’t even supposed to be talking to you. I’m sorry you got caught up in this, I’m sorry I hurt you. I wish there was something I could do—"

I snap at him. “Well, there isn’t anything. No one is going to hire me now. Not without a reference from Jarod. I don’t know if I want to stay in the States.”

I know I’m being overly dramatic. But after three weeks of nothing but layer upon layer of my life stripped away, I’m close to losing my mind.

His jaw works. “Where are you going?”

I throw my hands up. “I don’t know! Anywhere will be better than here.”

He rubs his chin. “You need to be careful. If you’re going to travel, make it somewhere neutral.”

It’s such a logical response to an illogical outburst I take a step back from him and groan.

I didn’t think about that. Even my plan to try to leave will be scrutinized. I may not even be able to get a work Visa.

Anywhere with possible ties to the still nameless group I stumbled on will be out of the question.

I slump into my sofa. “Where is neutral then?”

He perches on the arm of the sofa. “Parts of Asia, Japan, Cuba, Costa Rica, Iceland, to name a few. But you’d have to be extremely careful about who you spoke to and where you went.”

I frown at him, Iceland? “And they’d let me leave? Permanently?”

An unreadable emotion flickers over his face. “I thought you meant a vacation? Do you want to leave for longer?”

I swallow and shrug. “I don’t know. I just want my freedom back.”

He folds his arms across his chest. “There might be a way to do that.”

I shift in my seat and lean forward. “What are you talking about?”

He looks at me with such purpose, I have to remind myself I’m furious at him. “If you’re serious about leaving. This might be the best option. You don’t need a passport and you won’t need a work Visa.”

Before I can ask him any more questions, he pulls out his cell and spins it around to show me a picture of a beachfront restaurant complete with palm trees and a breath-taking sunset.

I shake my head and hand it back to him. “What are you showing me?”

“The closest thing to a compromise the government would ever allow you now.”

Still not understanding, I start to tell him I’m not interested in compromise when he slides off the arm of the sofa and sits beside me, so our thighs are touching.

I can smell his musky shower gel, and that stirs up way too many recollections of showering with him. “Where is that?”

A smile tugs at his lips. “Hawaii.”

My heart starts to beat a little faster and I’m not sure if it’s the fact he’s so close, or the idea of having my own restaurant on a beautiful beach, but I start to picture way too may things that can’t possibly happen.

My mouth slackens and I can’t seem to find a single word to say. When I do find something to say, I sound more than a little pissed off at him for getting my hopes up. “Why are you even suggesting this? They’d never let me pick up and move to Hawaii.”

He shakes his head. “I talked things over with Julie and her boss and they agreed to relax the surveillance as long as you checked in regularly.”

When I don’t say anything, he frowns. “Did you hear what I said? You can leave on the proviso you check-in with an agent stationed on the island.”

I chew my lip as I consider if that’s better than what I have. “It sounds like you’ve already decided without consulting me.”

He’s quick to shake his head. “I can’t decide for you. But all things considering, it’s a pretty good option. Kind of like parole in paradise.”

I’m still not entirely happy about the government’s wanton disregard of my rights, but if I have to be on probation until I’m cleared, I can think of worse places to be.

Xavier seems to see I’m wavering and pushes a strand of hair behind my ear, sending shivers down my spine. “You have a bikini?”

I roll my eyes. “Not much call for a bikini in a kitchen.”

I’m still trying to decide if this is really an option when he pulls me onto his lap. “In case you missed it, this is me proposing more than a way to get away from the FBI.”

With his arms around me I start to breathe a little faster. “Is this part of the compromise you were talking about?”

He shakes his head. “I’m sick of compromise. I don’t want half a life. Not anymore. I want to be with you. And there’s a position available for me. Say the word and we can leave in a week.”

Wait. What? We can leave? “You’re going to leave? With me?”

He shrugs lightly. “I was in Frasier’s Gully to trial a program combining the resources of the FBI and the Special Forces. It’s done. So am I.”

I swallow, unsure if I want to be the reason he gives up his career. “But you’re not leaving the Special Forces?”

He’s quick to shake his head. “I want a change of pace. There are plenty of amazing places where I think I could see myself stationed permanently. Hawaii is my first choice.”

His hands slide to my ass, but I’m still not willing to let go of my anger, even if I am getting a little more than interested in his idea. “I don’t know. I need time to think.”

He narrows his eyes. “Well, think quick. This offer is only open for a few days. And I’m not going to take no for an answer. I’ve made you my new directive.”

I frown at him. “What does that mean?”

He has the audacity to grin at me. “Means I don’t stop until the objective is completed.”

His fingers work their way under my shirt, so he’s caressing the small of my back. “And what is the objective?”

He pulls me closer. “Marrying you on a beach.”

His mouth finds mine, and his tongue serves to remind me of what else he can do with it.

Before I know what I’m doing, I’m yanking his shirt over his head, and kissing him way too passionately considering how angry I am.

My anger slowly dissolves as his arms wrap around me, tongue caressing mine making wanton desire flood my body.

Need overtakes all fear, all concern, all thought of the agent stationed not far from my front door.

I press my lips to his skin, licking his chest and trailing my hands over his stomach muscles as he kisses me.

His hands are in my hair, running down my back. He unsnaps my bra and gently runs his hands over my breasts. My nipples stiffen under his fingers and I moan as desire builds in my body.

I keep kissing him and pull my shirt over my head, he tugs my bra down my arms and leans forward so he can kiss my breasts and lick my nipples.

I groan as pleasure shoots straight to my core, startling me with the intensity. With a grunt, he pulls me closer so my breasts are pressed against his chest.

He kisses me deeper, his stubble rough against my skin as anticipation makes me tremble.

Without a word, he rises, kicks off his boots, and strips off his jeans so he’s standing naked in my living room.

I’m starting to tremble with need, and ready to take his hard cock in my mouth but he has his own ideas.

He gets to his knees, so he can pull my jeans off. Skin aflame, I kick them away, heat rushing over my naked body as he presses his mouth to my core.

I wriggle back, spread my legs wide, and lean against the headrest. I come screaming, gasping, and certain the entire neighborhood can hear, but I don’t care.

And neither does Xavier.

He just picks me up so I’m in his arms. “I’m still pissed off,” I say.

He takes a step backward and carries on walking towards my bedroom. “Hmm.”

He gently places me on the bed, and stares at me like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

“What if I told you that the resort was built by Hadi’s Uncle. Would you forgive me then?”

I’m halfway ready to inhale his cock and beg him to join me in bed. But his disclosure makes me pause. “You’re kidding?”

His expression turns serious, and I can see him struggling between trying to make me happy and keeping his word. “It looks like they’d severed ties with an extremist group in Pakistan and were creating their own sect. We think they were recruiting US Citizens to use as hostages if they didn’t tow the line and pledge allegiance.”

I gulp. “You mean people like me?”

He looks set to tell me more, but for some reason, probably because he’s buck-naked, I’m not sure I want to hear it.

Rather than ask him the questions I know are dangerous, I crawl forward and rise to my knees. “I don’t want to know.”

His eyebrows rise, but there’s an element of relief on his face that lets me know I made the right call.

He kisses me long and deep, his hands sliding to my bare ass, making me shiver with anticipation.

As his tongue mingles with mine, and his cock is hard against me, everything inside of me is screaming at me to accept his proposal.

I forget just for a second how messed up my life has gotten and start to picture how right everything can be.

He wants me to be his wife. But more than that, he wants to be my partner.

When he pulls back, a teasing look on his face. “Does this mean we’re going bikini shopping?”

I scrunch up my nose. “I’m not sure if you’ve convinced me yet,” I lie.

His lip curls. “Then I’ll have to try harder.”

Without a word, he starts to kiss my nipples, licking and sucking gently until I’m groaning and uttering incomprehensible words that sound vaguely like me agreeing to move to Hawaii.

I always wondered why Myles didn’t propose. After two years of non-commitment, placating my mother, and fooling ourselves, Myles wised up before I did.

We were never a good fit, not in our goals, our personal beliefs, and most certainly not in bed.

As if I need more confirmation, Xavier is the perfect fit, I run my hands up his muscled back just as he slides inside me.

I moan, and he joins me as he starts to thrust until I’m screaming the house down.

I’m still recovering, when he slows down to kiss me. “Say yes.”

I dig my nails into his ass cheeks and whisper in his ear. “Is this a strategy?”

He kisses me again with so much intent it leaving me with no doubt it is.

But I don’t care anymore. An incredible orgasm is building, and with it the certainty that I need this man more than I could have ever imagined.

“Yes, yes, oh yes,” I scream as I explode underneath him.

He joins me, half laughing as he comes so loud, I’m sure the agent is going to be knocking on the door any minute.

He collapses beside me, grinning at me, like everything played out precisely the way he wanted it to.

As he pulls me into his arms, and kisses me again, I start to think about the dingy apartment we had so much fun in.

I never expected to find anything in that broken-down workshop in Frasier’s Gully.

But I did. I found an incredible man who’s already shown me he’ll provide the support and the commitment I need.

He doesn’t want me to give up my career, and he’s right, Hawaii is the perfect compromise.

And if I’m forced to live two and a half thousand miles away from my crazy family, I can’t think of anyone I’d rather be on probation in paradise with.

***

Thanks so much for choosing to read Xavier and Carrie’s steamy love story.

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Lexi ❤

Excerpt from One Wild Weekend With Dexter

One Wild Weekend with Dexter

#9 One Wild Weekend with Series

© Lexi Hart 2020

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Lexi Hart is the pen name of a crazy Kiwi romance junkie who prefers to live in the heads of her characters than her own.

If you want to escape reality with me and love fast burn romances with a splattering of suspense, The One Wild Weekend Series is sure to satisfy you.

For readers who enjoy a slower burn, and a whole lot more angst, I hope you’ll try my ongoing fake romance series, Bad For Me.

If you’d like to connect with me and would like a FREE Novella, sign up for my twice monthly newsletter (no spam, no random promoting of other authors' books) so you can get all the VIP treatment, and we can get to know each other.

www.lexihartromance.com

Authors note:

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

The contents in no way reflect the Air Force Academy, The United States Air Force, or any persons related to either.