Friday Feature & Giveaway: Forged in Ember by Trish McCallan

“You can talk to him after you’ve eaten, Benji. Now skedaddle.” She waited for Brendan to herd his brother across the cafeteria floor before turning a suddenly grave face in Mac’s direction. “The boys’ doctor asked to see Amy in private, and I suspect the news is less than good. Nobody should have to face something like that alone, but she needed help with the boys, so I couldn’t stay.”

Ah hell . . . Stiffening, Mac took a step back. “Beth or Kait—”

“Aren’t here. You are. The meeting with the doctor will be over by the time I find them. Amy needs someone now.”

Mac took another step back. “I’m sure Mrs. Chastain would prefer to have a woman with her.”

“The only woman available is me, and I promised her I’d take care of her children. Trust me, she’d be much more comfortable with me watching over her boys than holding her hand. Which means you’re currently the only person available to step up.” She leaned toward him, a militant look sheening her gaze.

Fuck.

“She’s at the clinic, Commander. Alone. She needs you.” The resolve shifted to entreaty in her eyes and voice.

Double fuck.

He spread his feet and tensed his muscles, powering up for an uncompromising refusal. No way in hell was he taking on Amy Chastain’s troubles.

“Fine.” The surrender grated as it rumbled up his throat and out his mouth.

Where the hell had that come from?

Mac scowled, regrouping. Time to nip this in the bud and retreat to safety. “Look, I’ll check in on her. That’s all I’m promising.”

He groaned beneath his breath. Agreeing to check up on the damn woman wasn’t exactly retreating.

Marion’s expression softened in relief. “I’m sure she’ll appreciate that, Commander.”

Grunting an acknowledgment, Mac brushed past Marion before she talked him into doing anything else. Of course, just because he’d agreed to check on Amy didn’t mean he had to do so. It would be easy enough to skirt that duty by heading in the opposite direction. Except his feet developed a mind of their own and carried him two streets to the right and through the clinic’s sliding glass doors.

#   #   #

Setting her jaw, she picked up her pace and focused on the pair of fluorescent-green shoulders fifteen feet ahead. The knot in her belly loosened. The four men fanned out in front of her were all business. They slipped through the brush and trees with tense muscles and fluid strides. One of the men halted for a moment. His torso twisted as his goggle-shrouded face looked over his shoulder, directly at her.

Mackenzie.

From this distance the four men looked identical. Lean, muscular bodies. Smooth, athletic strides. Helmets, with attached NVDs, shrouded their heads, so their hair was covered. Nothing about the man who’d turned pointed to Mackenzie.

Yet she knew with absolute certainty that he’d been the one to check on her. She knew it was him by the way her muscles loosened and the churning in her belly stilled. By the calmness that fell over her, reining in her heart rate and respiration.

The man had a soothing effect on her. His presence acted as a sedative, easing the sharp edges of memories and fears. He made her feel . . . indestructible. Safe. Capable of handling anything, including the men who’d pinned targets on her children’s backs.

She had no clue why Mackenzie had such a profound effect on her. It made no sense whatsoever. The commander was a foul-mouthed, misogynistic jerk with a short temper and a chip on his shoulder. Qualities she normally loathed in a man.

In a world gone suddenly crazy, her reaction to such an alpha jackass was one of the craziest things of all.

But then the few times he’d tried to pull that alpha jackassery on her, she’d shut him down fast. Oh, he’d been irritable about it, but she’d gotten her way. He might not bury her in compliments or seek out her counsel, but he listened to what she had to say and acted on it more often than not.

For such a suspicious man, he’d made some pretty stunning concessions for her. This was the second mission he’d led that she’d been included in. And she’d been included in everything from planning to insertion. Which meant he trusted her in the field.

Even back in the beginning, in that horrible house when Mac and his team had swept in to rescue them, he’d trusted her enough to pass her a gun . . . twice. He’d relied on her to protect herself and her boys. For a man like Mackenzie, that spoke volumes.