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Never Letting Go – Passport 2 Love
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After too many tours overseas as a medic and then helping to make Nighthawk Security a successful firm has left me bone tired.
I decided to stay in a resort and make some plans. It was time to get my life in order.
My life was a dull, boring routine.
When I walked into the penthouse suit and got my first glimpse of Easton Reid, life became anything but boring.
And the things Easton makes me feel are anything but funny.
Tory is back with a complete standalone romance to introduce a brand-new series. If you think you’ve read my books before, then hold on tight. This new series has a little more—of everything. A few things remain the same, however. You will still get a complete standalone story filled with sugary-sweet love, spicy heat, and safe, happily ever after goodness.
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I need this break like I need a breath of fresh air. I’m bone fucking tired. Since the age of eighteen, it’s been nonstop deployments for too many years to count, in war-torn areas that aren’t for the faint of heart. Shit, just thinking about the amount of carnage left behind has me on high alert now. I’m lucky to have survived with only a few scars to tell the tale.
After my last deployment at the age of twenty-seven, I was done. My mind, body, and soul couldn’t handle it anymore. I came home and began working with Slade and two other guys, Drake and Bridger, at Nighthawk Security. We all left different branches in the military, yet we came together to help others in need. Hell, none of us really knew what else to do when we got out. There wasn’t a whole lot we could do; being a trained killer isn’t really something you put on a resume. We were a lot like anyone else after working for Uncle Sam.
Now, after three years, I’m ready to move on. I’m ready to branch out and do my own thing. No more long hours hovering over a computer, delving deep into backgrounds, watching security feeds, and hacking into networks night and day. I’m done, ready to become my own boss, only taking the jobs I want or deem necessary. My pockets are already pretty well padded; this will be more of something to keep me occupied.
That’s why, before I even think about settling on a home to buy in the area, I’m staying at a hotel. Sure, it’s not very cost-efficient, especially when I just put a huge chunk of cash on my new office building, but like I said, I worked my ass off and saved as much as I could while in the military and even when I was working for Nighthawk Security. I basically lived like I was poor. How else could I spend money while working morning, noon, and night? But I’m not complaining. We all pulled our weight, but it just made me pocket every dime I could. And now, I don’t want to buy a house, then turn around, hate the area, and move all over again. I want to plant roots, something I haven’t done since starting my military career.
So, here I am, checking into a hotel on the beach for the next three weeks while I scope out the area in Beaumont, Alabama, right on the Gulf Coast.
What I wasn’t prepared for was the humidity. Shit, it’s as bad as being overseas in the desert. I’m pulling at my shirt, trying to cool off from the short walk from my car to inside. I swear to Christ, I was only outside for less than two minutes before I started sweating my balls off.
I make my way up to the check-in counter, waiting my turn, when the concierge says, “Welcome to Oceania Resort and Spa on the Gulf Coast. How may I help you today?”
“Hello, I’m checking in. It should be under Easton Reid,” I respond to her as my luggage is brought in by the bellhop. I could have carried the two bags I brought; all the rest of my belongings are in the storage area of my office for the time being. I didn’t want to unpack and repack. That shit is a nightmare. Besides, the max amount of time I’ll stay at any hotel is two weeks. The one comfort I have is my own bed, and I look forward to the day my head is resting on its own pillow again.
“I have you right here, Mr. Reid. You’re in the penthouse on the East wing. Max will show you the way. Please, enjoy your stay.” Her name tag, pinned to her left shoulder, states her name is Samantha.
“Thank you, Samantha.” I nod and grab the keycard from her, then turn toward the bellhop. He introduced himself as Max earlier. It goes against everything ingrained in my soul to follow his lead, but I have no fucking idea where we’re going at this point. I guess I should have done my own homework before picking out the hotel.
As we walk toward the elevator, I take in the view around me. Everything is modern, sleek, and there are floor-to-ceiling windows with views of the beach on two sides, leaving you open to any elements known to man. I can’t help but think of every security issue it would breach. This is a nightmare of epic proportions, and I’m thankful as ever I’m no longer working personal security. This shit would give even me hives. I’d probably make Slade pick some other poor unsuspecting fool to do this kind of security because there’s no fucking way I would touch this with a ten-foot pole.