ELITE Justice: Guardian Elite, #2

By KaLyn Cooper

The terrorist plot discovered by the new assistant manager at the Dallas Guardian Security Center is real, but she's not what she seems.

 

Jonathan O'Neil, new to the Dallas Guardian Security Center, knows a terrorist plot when he sees one on the tempting waitress' computer. To find out the details of the plan and to stop them, he sets out to seduce her, only to find that nothing is what it seems.

 

Gwen Shaw overhears refugee teenagers discussing a plot to rival 9/11, but her Arabic is rusty. Besides, who is going to believe the sketchy information from an apron-wearing newcomer, even though she'd recently left the Army as a seasoned officer?

 

ELITE Justice, the second book in the Guardian Elite series, features the sexy men from KaLyn Cooper's Guardian Elite series in a heart-pounding romantic suspense of mistaken identity of a strong heroine.

 

Buy this second book in the Guardian Elite series.

 

Note: This book was previously published as Justice for Gwen. It has been deeply edited and expanded to become part of KaLyn Cooper's rebranded Guardian ELITE series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Black Swan Publishing, LLC
• Release date: Apr 23, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201352028

KaLyn Cooper

KaLyn Cooper is a USA Today Bestselling author whose romances blend fact and fiction with blazing heat and heart-pounding suspense. Twenty-two years as a military wife has shown KaLyn the world, and thirty years in PR taught her that fact can be stranger than fiction. She leaves it up to the reader to separate truth from imagination. She, her husband, and Little Bear (Alaskan Malamute) live in Tennessee on a micro-plantation filled with gardens, cattle, and quail. When she's not writing, she's at the shooting range or on the river. www.KaLynCooper.com 

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Jonathan O’Neil opened the door to Up In Smoke. Steam wafted into the busy Dallas street. He was immediately saturated with the smell of fried onions, hamburgers, and, of course, bar-b-que. Inhaling deeply through his nose, he savored each scent, and…was that apple pie?

Why, thank you, son. An elderly lady smiled up at him as she used the metal bar across the door to steady her shaky steps. Don’t you just love this place? Best country fried steak in Texas.

I’ll bet it is, ma’am. Jonathan couldn’t help but smile back at her and her friend as he held the door for them.

Don’t tell me you’ve never been here before. The second woman’s brown, penciled-on eyebrows nearly reached her white, perfectly coiffed hair.

Yes, ma’am, first time, Jonathan admitted. Give a man a chance. He’d only been in the city twenty hours, most of which had been spent settling into his hotel room and temporary office at Guardian Security, Inc. He’d never considered leaving Miami before…before that night. More accurately, the next morning.

He’s a virgin. The first woman elbowed the second and giggled.

The accusation derailed Jonathan’s train of thought. Miami was in his past, and everything that had happened there was going to stay there.

What the hell? Virgin? Not by a long shot. But he wasn’t going to tell these septuagenarians—who reminded him way too much of his interfering Irish grandmother—that he’d lost his virginity as a late sixteenth birthday gift from Sally Ann Crossville, the girl he’d been dating at the time. She hadn’t lost hers that night but taught him a lot over the next few weeks before dumping him for the star of the soccer team.

"Gladys, he might be a Texas culinary virgin, but with that body, he’s been screwing around for years." The second woman pushed the first the remaining way through the door.

Gladys stopped two feet away from Jonathan and eyed him from the top of his Guardian ball cap, over the light gray company polo shirt, down the mandatory black cargo pants to the military-style boots. Maybe if he’d worn the new cowboy boots his former staff had given him as a going-away gift, he’d look more Texan. But he was technically on duty and in the uniform of the day.

What do you think, Viola? Gladys sidled toward her friend. Bet we could teach this young buck a few things. Bright sunlight caught the purple streak of hair that ran over Gladys’ ear.

What the hell? Aren’t these two a hoot?

I just read that Cosmo article online on how to give a great blow job. Viola smiled up at Jonathan with the whitest set of dentures he’d ever seen. Her faded blue eyes sparkled.

Gladys petted his bicep. Bet you work out.

Jonathan stared at the boney hand that squeezed his arm with greater strength than he’d imagine possible from such a small, frail-looking woman.

Can we come watch you work out? Viola asked with complete seriousness.

Do you take your shirt off when you pump iron? Gladys emphasized the last two words.

Not wanting this encounter to go any further, fearing they might ask him the length of his dick next, he smiled, hoping to extricate himself gracefully. If you’ll excuse me, ladies. He tipped his head and couldn’t hold in the grin. Although this has been an interesting conversation, I really do need to get inside. I’m meeting someone and it wouldn’t look good on me to be late.

Viola lightly smacked Gladys’s hand away from Jonathan’s arm. Come on. We want a good spot on the bus bench across from that boxing gym with the big windows. The men should be good and sweaty by now.

Gladys dug in her gigantic purple purse. Damn it all. I can’t find my gun.

Don’t worry. I have mine. Viola hauled a 1911 Colt from the depths of the big red bag hanging on her shoulder. I got us covered. She took a good solid shooting stance and pointed the gun down the thankfully empty sidewalk.

Whoa, ladies. Jonathan grabbed the gun from Viola’s hand and checked the slide. Sure enough, there was one in the chamber. Thank God the safety was on. Do you⁠—

Viola reached for her gun back, but Jonathan held it up in the air, out of her reach. Of course, I have a permit to carry. My Charlie, God rest his soul, was a Texas Ranger. And I know how to use that sucker.

Jonathan ejected the magazine and the chambered bullet before handing the separated pieces back to Viola. Please be careful with that.

Expertly, the older woman restacked the bullet in the magazine, popped it back into the gun, and flicked the safety on.

Gladys stepped so close he could smell her faded, old-lady perfume mixed with the restaurant smells that had saturated her clothes. Welcome to Texas, young man. Her soft hand patted his cheek. You’ll learn. She turned to her friend. Come on, Viola. I don’t want to miss those executive types stepping out onto the street, all fresh from their shower. Reminds me of my younger days. With a glance over her shoulder at Jonathan, she told him, I used to be a looker, you know.

I’ll bet you were. He could see the beauty she’d once been.

Finally stepping into the restaurant, he wanted to thrust his fist into the air. He smelled baking apple pie. Glancing around the packed ’50s-style diner as he removed his hat, he caught site of his new boss sitting at a table in the back with a view of everything and everyone. Their eyes met. A lift of Quinlan Barrister’s chin was Jonathan’s invitation.

He wove his way through the scattered tables, some of which had been shoved together to accommodate larger groups, others had couples chatting intimately. All the food looked amazing. He took the indicated seat across from Quin, hating that his back was against the crowded restaurant.

I see Viola and Gladys waylaid you at the door. Quin’s gaze swept the entire restaurant, and he nodded at someone behind Jonathan. Watch out for those two. Gladys groped my ass the other day while we were standing in line to pay my bill.

They’re something, aren’t they? Jonathan just wasn’t sure exactly what that something was and didn’t want to personally find out.

What can I get for you today, Quin? The cordial voice caught Jonathan’s attention as the woman reached to refill his boss’s cup. Coffee? The question was directed to Jonathan.

Tired eyes the color of good whisky met his, but her smile was genuine. He flipped over the cup on the table in front of him. Yes, please. The desire for apple pie overwhelmed him.

She filled his cup. Today’s lunch special is meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and green beans.

Jonathan glanced quickly around the small table for a menu, then up to those gorgeous brown eyes. He checked her nametag. Gwen, could I see a menu, please?

Before she could answer, Quin instructed, Behind you, over the kitchen window. Jonathan turned in that direction and saw a list of everything he loved to eat.

While you’re checking that out—she turned her attention across the table—I’ll take your order, Quin.

I’ll have the special.

Good choice. She wrote on her pad. I made the meatloaf myself this morning.

That accounted for the dark circles under her eyes. When Jonathan turned back, he noticed she was quite pretty. Her dark hair was cut in a straight line just below her jaw, directing his gaze to a pointy chin that fit her heart-shaped face. The red t-shirt was loose, but he could tell she had average-sized breasts. Not too much to be fake but enough to be enjoyable. The red apron accented her small waist and the tight jeans hugged her shapely legs down to the red, high-top gym shoes. Quirky. He liked a twisted woman.

He smiled when she returned her attention to him. Have you decided?

Yes, he’d made up his mind. Although he certainly wasn’t about to jump into another relationship, he could use some female companionship. He’d been accustomed to getting laid every night if he wanted it, but for the past month, sex had been the last thing on his mind. Now, in a new city, it was a whole new beginning.

I’ll have a cheeseburger smothered in fried onions, fries, and a Coke. He’d work off any extra calories that afternoon in the company gym, one of the many benefits of working for Guardian.

I’ll get that right out for y’all. And she was gone. On her way to the kitchen, he watched the way her hips swayed as she dodged tables, chairs, and people arriving and leaving.

Oh, yeah. He didn’t need the same woman in his bed, night after night, tending to his every need and wish. And all-nighters had to be a thing of the past for him. He’d done one-nighters the whole time he’d been in the Marines, just like all his special operations buddies. Being tied to one woman wasn’t for him. Not anymore. He might…no. He was fine. That had been a one-off. It would never happen again.

She doesn’t date. Quin’s statement made Jonathan turn around.

For the first time, he really looked at his new boss. After years as the number two man in the Los Angeles Guardian Center, Quin had been promoted to manager at the Dallas office. The Southern California sun had given the man’s light brown hair blond highlights that seemed to go with the deep golden tan. But that may have been left from his days as a SEAL.

Jonathan would never tan. He often joked that the sun just made him turn darker shades of white. Maybe if all his freckles would merge together, he’d finally be tan. But that would look weird with his blondish-red hair. He had to stay clean-shaven because his beard grew out copper red as a new penny. He could never blend in the Middle East, so he’d stayed specialized in cold weather warfare, spending time in Korea and East Asia. Lot of good that training did him now in Texas.

Refocusing back on the conversation, Jonathan probed, She turned you down?

More than once. Quin shrugged. It was worth a try for a taste of that body. He grinned. I have discovered that Texas women have a wild side. I’ll just bet Gwen’s would be the ride of a lifetime.

I’d have to agree. Jonathan would like to get a little wild with a woman for a night. And that’s all it would be, one night.

Did Alex fill you in on the situation here? Quin asked, referring to the managing partner of Guardian Security. And you got the memo on Katlin Callahan, right? I heard she’s in Miami a lot. Have you met her?

Yes, sir. I’ve guarded Ms. Callahan and her friends several times. Jonathan had also fought beside her in a shootout against terrorists. Do you know her?

First, no, I’ve never met the woman. Quin sipped his coffee. "Second, cut the sir shit. Quin set the coffee cup down on the saucer with a clink. I don’t know, or care, how things were done in Miami, but in my center, when we’re alone, management is on a first-name basis. Yeah, I’m your boss, but we need to function as a team. When you’re in charge of the center, I expect you to give the same answers and directions that I would. In front of our men, we can be more formal."

Jonathan liked this man already.

But when it comes to Alex, and now Ms. Callahan, Quin continued, I expect you to treat them with the respect they deserve as the company’s owners. He sat back in his chair and grinned. Now, what do you know about Ms. Callahan that I should know?

She’s not what she seems. Jonathan had to watch his words carefully. He knew her covert identity and that she was the leader of an international team of female assassins. He’d seen her