Summer's Night

Night scrubbed a hand across his face in an attempt to banish the exhaustion and instill some alertness and energy. Without glancing in a mirror, he knew dark circles resided under his eyes and deep lines furrowed his face, all the result of forty-eight hours with no sleep.

Night’s team had located a top drug kingpin just as he had returned to his remote lair, a heavily fortified cement structure guarded by a dozen hired mercenaries, paid to ensure his protection and survival. Due to the Wind Warriors’ stealth, courage and ability to strategize quickly, they’d slid into the shadows of predawn, leaving an imploded building in their wake. Another job done, another bad guy taken out.

Loco drove their late model black SUV toward their home base. None of them had slept, despite being on the road for three hours, their drawn faces spoke of fatigue and a need for downtime. Yet, Night knew, if the occasion called for it, each one would go to battle immediately, pushing their physical limits to the brink. That’s just what Wind Warriors did.

Night had formed the group a few years back, seeking out the highest trained former Special Forces members he could find, offering them independence, high wages, and the luxury of declining any mission they felt uneasy about. In exchange, they kept their adrenaline rush skills fresh, wiped scum from the earth, and made his business a success with more mission offers than he could possibly accept. The government officially denied his team existed. Only a select few in senior levels knew about their specialized services and only two possessed the power to recruit his assistance in making a nearly untouchable snake disappear.

He nudged Loco, a tall, sandy-haired former Marine, and gestured toward a billboard advertising restaurants and a hotel just off the next off ramp. “Sleep or food first?” He turned to glance at each of his men, raking his gaze over their faces, determining their levels of weariness and ability to continue if the need arose.

“Sleep.” Cale’s voice carried from the back seat. His blue eyes appeared dull against his nearly black hair, shoulders slumped as if he was simply too tired to sit up straight. The former Navy SEAL could usually outlast them all, but not today.

“Sleep.” Loco echoed.

“Agreed.” Spoon, the fourth member of the team, a former Green Beret, solidified the vote while rubbing at his brown eyes.

“Sleep it is.”

They took the exit, quickly pulling into the parking lot of a chain hotel. Smaller motels worked but sometimes the front desk help became antsy when four large-framed men dressed in camouflage wandered in from the street. Larger inns booked more guests but didn’t ask nearly as many questions, and usually treated them with frank respect, automatically believing they were attached to present, active-duty with the military. None of the team corrected their mistake.

No sooner had they registered and entered their room, did they drop their duffle bags, lock the door, and divvy up who would take which bed. They could easily afford a room apiece, but safety lay in numbers. Besides, it wasn’t the first time they’d shared sleeping quarters and most likely wouldn’t be the last. For a stay as brief as theirs, it didn’t make sense to spend a fortune on luxuries none of them needed or expected. Most of the time, they simply asked for an extra cot or two, then flipped a coin for who stretched out where. In a pinch, they’d share beds—not quite comfortable on the floor, even though all of them had slept in much worse situations.

Night smirked as, almost in unison, the guys pulled out their cell phones, punching in familiar numbers. Home could wait a few more hours, even if phone calls to loved ones couldn’t.

He followed suit, tapping in his home number, smiling when his mother answered.

“How are you feeling? Did you start your therapy today?”

Felina Kensington had undergone total knee replacement on her right leg a few short days ago. Just as the doctors released her, an emergency mission had yanked him halfway across the country, throwing a large monkey wrench into his plans for making sure his mother received the best of care. The inability to be in two places at once tore at him—responsibility and the need to be there for his mother. His mother had insisted that he go, take care of his men, that she would be more than fine.

In the end, he’d taken her advice, still annoyed with the poor timing of this mission. Instead of meeting and ferreting out a proper physical therapist, he was forced to allow an agency to choose one for her. He couldn’t attend her first exercise session, much to his frustration and chagrin. That would change today as he would make it home that evening, come hell or high water.

“I’m doing well.” His mother’s soft and cheery voice carried across the phone. “Are you okay? You must be on your way home.” Perceptive and wise, she easily understood all the no communication rules in place to protect the Wind Warriors, as well as any loved ones. The stakes they played for remained high and revenge from targets who escaped justice waited in the wings. He and the others could never be too careful, not if they wanted to live long.

“I am. I’m sorry I couldn’t have been there yesterday to meet your physical therapist.”

“Oh, Summer is just a dear.”

“Summer?” He frowned. “What kind of name is that?” His tone dropped in disapproval as he pictured a teenage girl chewing bubble gum, fumbling through exercises with his mother, lacking the experience necessary in order to care for patients properly.

“Colton Regent Night Shadow Kensington! Shame on you. Putting a sweet woman down for her name. Of all people, you shouldn’t throw stones at her glass house.”

He sighed into the phone. His mother could out-stubborn a mule. If she liked this girl, nothing he could say would change her opinion. He only hoped this Summer didn’t end up messing up the new knee. “I take it you like her?”

“Why, yes. She came over yesterday, spent nearly two hours with me. Even brought me delicious cookies.” She continued, lavishing praise on the girl.

“I don’t care if she’s a gourmet chef. How did your therapy go?” he grumbled, his gaze flicking over the room as one by one, the men closed their phones, plopped onto the beds then settled into sleep mode. After unlacing one boot, he pulled it off before starting on the other.

“Fine. Really. She showed me some exercises, gave me some handouts for ones to do when I’m alone. We walked around the house with the walker and she guided me through some range of motion exercises. Don’t worry. She really knows what she’s doing. Reminds me a bit of you, watching me like a hawk.”

Score one for the therapist.

Ever since he could remember, it had been him and his mother against the world. She’d raised him alone, sometimes working two jobs to keep a roof over their heads. Her lack of education minimized her job options to low paying and backbreaking manual labor. She took the jobs head on, never complaining, and had managed to keep him fed, clothed, and out of trouble, while stressing the importance of education until it sank in and stuck like superglue. All of those menial jobs had worn her knees out, which was why she needed a replacement now.

He stifled a yawn, his body lax as he prepared for a long-needed nap. “Okay. I should be home late tonight. I’ll meet this paragon tomorrow.”

“Get some rest, Colton. It sounds like you need it. And, don’t forget breakfast. It’s the most important meal of the day, after all.”

The corner of his mouth tilted upward at her words. Once a mother, always a mother. No matter how old he grew, she always worried and fretted over the little things as if he was a small child. He never admitted it, but it only endeared her to him all the more. “I will. Promise. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

The phone clicked as she hung up. He punched his off, checked the lock on the door again, and flopped down on a cot. Out of habit, he stashed his spare handgun under the makeshift bed then closed his eyes, immediately falling to sleep.

“Great job, Mrs Kensington.” Summer praised her new patient as she performed yet another exercise to strengthen her leg muscles and get back on her feet following knee replacement surgery. “Just like that. Slide your heel toward your rear end gently, just enough to feel a bit of a stretch, hold for a few seconds, then slide it back out again.” She crouched down beside the bed, searching carefully for any break in proper alignment or technique. “Three more. You can do it.”

A peripheral movement caught her attention. Glancing over, she discovered a tall man observing the session, his long black hair brushed straight and hanging down past his shoulder blades. Deep blue eyes contrasted with his dark skin and locks. He gripped a steaming mug as he stood in the doorway, watching her with an expression rife with intensity.

“Two. One.” Summer automatically counted for her patient, turning her attention to the older woman reclining on the bed. She gave her a smile. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Whew! I’m glad that one is over. I swear that’s my worst.” Mrs Kensington sat up, gingerly rotating with Summer’s assistance, until her right leg extended straight out from her body, her heel resting on the floor. The other leg bent at the knee, providing support in preparation for standing. “Oh, Colton. I didn’t see you standing there.” She grinned at the man, her face glowing with what appeared to be joy and pride.

Summer stood up, moving the walker closer to her patient, her gaze skipping back to their visitor. Colton, Mrs Kensington called him. Summer’s heart sped at the mere sight of him. He could easily have been on the cover of one of the romance novels she secreted away, her guilty pleasure on cold evenings. His Native American heritage spoke loudly in his coloring—high cheekbones, strong jaw, and chiseled nose that hooked just slightly. Those blue eyes, though. Wow. Eerie, yet beautiful, looking deep into her soul, peeling away layers as if he possessed magical powers and could ferret out the truth just from a stare full of intimidation. A unique blend, but one that worked for him. Very well.

“Colton. This is Summer. Summer, this is Colton, my son.”

Summer smiled at the man, not the least surprised to hear of strong family ties with Mrs Kensington. They resembled one another in many ways, obviously sharing a heritage, although her coloring seemed a bit lighter, which could mean something or nothing. She stood a head shorter, about the same height as Summer herself, while Colton carried a larger, more muscular frame, not just a masculine form, but a stouter build altogether. Mrs Kensington’s black hair lacked the midnight blue nuances of her son’s while gray streaks provided a delicate salt and pepper tint. “Nice to meet you.”

Colton stepped closer, his expression stoic. Raking her over with a glance, he lifted the cup to his lips. “Same.” He sipped before lowering the cup once more.

How odd. He almost sounded like he didn’t care for her. But that didn’t make sense. They’d just met literally two seconds ago. Summer mentally shrugged away his gruff greeting. Perhaps he was one of those people that a person simply didn’t speak to before they drank half a pot of coffee.

Returning to her task at hand, she peered down at her client. “Feel up to a little walk?”

Mrs Kensington glanced at her son before meeting Summer’s eyes. “I think so. Let’s head to the living room.” She grabbed the walker tightly, leaned forward a bit then adjusted the position of her legs.

Summer steadied the walker, keeping one hand on the gait belt wrapped snugly around the older woman’s stomach.

Colton strode over, long steps eating up the distance, until he stopped by his mother’s side, having deposited his mug on a nearby dresser along his path. He reached out as if to lift his mother from her seated position.

“Please don’t help her, Mr Kensington,” Summer instructed softly. “She can do this by herself. I’ve seen her.”

“What if she falls?” he sniped back, his tone abrupt and a bit harsh. Lines furrowed on his face. Those unusual eyes sparked.

A defensive expression if she ever saw one. It wasn’t the first time she’d placated overly helpful family members, dealing with their anxiety and eagerness to assist when the patient needed none. “I have her.” She lifted a smidgen on the belt, showing her hand wrapped around the knit cotton material, palm up. “I can steady her and lift, whatever is necessary, with this belt. I won’t let her fall. Promise.”

“You’re not big enough or strong enough to hold her weight if she starts to go down,” he argued while pulling his hands back.

“You might be surprised.” She flashed him a confident grin before addressing his mother. “Ready?”

Mrs Kensington took a deep breath then slowly stood, keeping her right leg straight while pushing off with the left. With only a little assistance, she managed to stand erect, both hands clasping the walker. “That’s still hard, but easier than yesterday.”

Summer smiled. “Each day will get easier, especially as hard as you’re working.” She stared up at Colton. “Thank you for wanting to help. As you can see, she can do many things by herself with just someone to stand by in case she needs assistance.”

He backed up, allowing enough room for easy passage as his mother took the walker in hand, steadily moving forward, not quite putting her full weight on the surgical side. The wheels on the front of the device rotated easily on the hardwood floors. Reclaiming his cup, he watched them closely.

Summer ignored his rapt attention, writing it off as part of a son’s protectiveness, though his unyielding stare pricked her nerves. Putting her focus back on her client, she followed Mrs Kensington to the doorway.

“Call me Night,” Mr Kensington said.

Night’s gaze raked Summer’s body from head to toe and back again. She would never walk the runway in Paris but, at the same time, held her own in the physical appearance department. Her sandy blonde ponytail hung just past her shoulder blades, making her hair a few inches longer than his own. Full lips, presently turned up in a grin, enhanced a rounded face while curved eyelashes framed large, sparkling, brown eyes. Funny, he’d never paid much attention to eyelashes before.

Her green scrubs hinted at an athletic, toned body, the short-sleeved top revealed tanned skin and sculpted muscles. Most women carried a softer build. The crown of her head would brush his chin, making her close to average height for a woman.

True to her word, she kept his mother upright and on track. Only once did she tighten her hand on the belt, the muscles in her arm standing out as she lifted. The subtle movement would have been missed by most others, even him, if he hadn’t been watching their every step with practiced eyes. Though compact, Summer seemed to be able to handle the rigors of her work just fine.

“Okay. Night. I’m Summer.” She spared him a glance.

She didn’t appear like a teenager. Probably in her twenties, he guessed—that was older than he’d feared. Grudgingly, he admitted she seemed to know exactly what she was doing. His unease settled as he watched her in action, the kindness and patience she showed to his mother, her quick praise and encouragement reassuring them both. And all done with a smile.

Maybe she would work out after all.

“There. You did wonderfully.” Summer tugged the walker to the side of the recliner from where his mother had sat. “Let me get you something to drink. What would you like?”

His mother took a deep breath and only paused for a second before answering. “Tea. I believe there are some tea bags in the cupboard by the fridge. You can get the hot water from the coffeemaker.”

Summer headed toward the kitchen. “I’ll bring you those oatmeal cookies too. You’ve earned them.” Stopping, she peered at him. “Would you like anything, Night? A refill perhaps?”

He shook his head. “No thanks.” Taking a long sip of his quickly cooling java, he watched her go, energy in every step. Her offer to wait on them had caught him by surprise. Granted, he didn’t know much about physical therapy, but he’d expected her to come in, do some exercises with his mother then dash off to another patient—not bring her cookies and make her green tea in addition to her regular duties.

“Isn’t she a dear?” his mother’s soft voice broke into his thoughts.

“She’s not what I expected,” he admitted, watching the doorway for her to re-emerge.

He’d seen more beautiful women and had dated his fair share of them. Summer seemed more down to earth, not a knockout who sent men to their knees and gave them fuel for erotic dreams for nights to come. Yet, something about her snared his attention and refused to let go. What little he’d seen of her personality and her pretty looks drew his curiosity—whetted his appetite for more.

His mother met his gaze. “She’s such an angel. Bakes cookies and does a lot more than she has to. Not a lazy bone in her body. Single, too.”

Night noticed the familiar twinkle in his mother’s eye and cringed. Here we go again. She was back to playing matchmaker, an old hobby for her. More than once, she’d prodded and pushed him toward one woman or another, pointing out all their wonderful attributes. The one time he’d taken her advice on a particular woman, it had ended in disaster. He’d sworn afterward that he would ensure his mother stayed out of his social life, no matter how frequently she clamored for grandchildren. “Not interested, Mother.”

She snorted. “Stubborn as a frog after a lightning bug. You aren’t getting any younger.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m only thirty-one. Last time I looked, that’s not quite in my dotage. Besides, I don’t need any help finding a date. Thanks anyway.”

“You wouldn’t know a good thing if it smacked you in the face,” she grumped.

Summer entered the room, carrying a container of cookies as well as cup. “Here you go. The tea is hot, so watch your tongue.”

“Thank you.”

After handing off the drink, Summer held out the treat in offering. “They’re oatmeal.”

His mother reached in, pulling two cookies out, placing them on the napkin Summer had also provided. Once she’d finished, Summer moved over to him.

He followed suit, snatching a cookie from the box. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Her smile lit up her entire face. Bright white teeth sparkled in the morning sunlight streaming through the large bay window.

His breath caught as something deep inside clicked.

“I’d better get going. Thank you for working so hard, Mrs Kensington. Do you want me to leave the gait belt with you or take it with me?” she asked, while unhooking the garment and slipping it off.

“Oh, you can leave it here. Just set it on the table there.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow at the same time?” She lightly rolled up the belt before setting it on the coffee table.

“Of course.” His mother patted the younger woman’s hand.

“It’s a date, then.” With a small wave, Summer headed to the front door.

Night met her there, opening the door for her. He stared down at her for a moment before giving a small nod. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome. Your mother is a wonderful lady. I enjoy her appointments.”

He grinned wickedly. “Don’t tell her that too much or she’ll be impossible to live with.”

She chuckled, her eyes sparking with amusement. “I’ll do my best. It was nice meeting you, Night.”

“Same here.”

He stood in the doorway, watching her trot to her car, climb in, and drive off. I’ll be looking forward to tomorrow.

“It’s a wonder a girl like that is single,” his mother called from across the room.

Returning to his seat, Night released a sigh. His mother would be on the Summer bandwagon for a while. She meant well, but he tired of her meddling. The simple truth was he hadn’t found a woman who made him want to settle down and have a family. Settling wasn’t an option. He’d seen too many gorgeous women marry for money then take the man for all his assets. Certainly, he didn’t top the Fortune 500 list, but he paid his bills and kept enough in reserve so he could retire any time he wanted and not worry about hitting the soup lines due to starvation.

Some of his men had recently found good women to complete their lives. Damn lucky. Cale had found Lily, an office nurse, poor as a church mouse with a heart of pure gold. Cale’s brother, Dillon, planned to marry his longtime sweetheart soon. Even Loco had stumbled across a wondrous beauty who fit him to a T.

The men more than deserved to find their other halves. They’d sacrificed everything for their country at one time and now did the same, only in the private sector. Their job factored in an element of true unpredictability, with no set schedule and no care of climate, holidays, or personal wishes. Dangerous and potentially deadly, the Wind Warriors flew under the radar, performing hard, dirty jobs that someone had to do. It wasn’t an easy life and didn’t lend itself to a family. But deep down, he knew each warrior longed for a sweetheart to return home to, to give them a reason to survive, to fight, and to shower them with love as often as they could. He was no different.

“What do you know about her?” He sat his mug on the table before getting comfortable in the high backed chair.

She smiled warmly. “So, you’re interested.”

He shook his head. “I want to run her through an intel check. Make sure she’s on the up and up.”

She sighed. “You’ll do it anyway, I’m sure. But, you won’t find anything.”

“We’ll see.”

His mother’s face brightened. “Why don’t you ask her yourself tomorrow morning?”

He read the challenge in her eyes. “Fine.” After grabbing his coffee cup, he marched into the kitchen, tired of playing games with his well-meaning mother.

Tomorrow. He would question the therapist, do a quick background check, and satisfy himself she was legit. It would ensure his mother received the best care and no fishy business existed. After that, he could rest easy and wave off his mother’s romance plans relating to him and Summer for good.