When the Smoke Clears

By C. Chilove

Lieutenant Colonel Brenden Jasper lives a life of secrets, danger, and clandestine missions. As commander of the most elite Black Ops unit in the world, nothing is more important to him than protecting the country he loves. But there’s a reason only the toughest, battle-tested, alpha men can call themselves members of the Black 2131 brotherhood. None but those in the highest realms of government even know of its existence, and it's Brenden's job to avoid emotional entanglements so he can keep it that way.

Dr. Paige Nichols has spent her life ruled by logic and reason, teaching and analyzing art history, so nothing could have prepared her for the completely overwhelming attraction-at-first-sight when she sets eyes on Brenden. Their chance encounter at a party opens her up to a tantalizing dark side she never knew she had—and leaves her wanting so much more. But a man with a dark side often comes with way too many secrets…ones that could put her life in danger.

Though their chemistry burns hotter than ever, when danger comes knocking on Paige’s door, Brenden will have to walk a fine line between duty, honor, and love.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Macmillan Publishers
• Release date: Apr 19, 2021
• ISBN: 9781649371386

Book preview

Author’s Note: This book depicts issues of pregnancy loss. I have taken every effort to ensure this issue is handled sensitively, but if this element could be considered triggering to you, please take note.

To Mark, the wind beneath my wings that keeps me steadfast and determined to accomplish my dreams, I love you.

And, to Latoya Smith, who believed in my voice and that the world of Black Smoke should be read by all.

Part 1

229 Days until Deployment: Operation Jackal’s Lair

Mission Status: On Schedule & Authorized for Combat Operations

Chapter One

The veil of night was lifting, retreating to the salmon rays marking a new dawn. Relief spread across Lieutenant Colonel Brenden Jasper’s limbs as he took a deep inhale of the warm, salty air thrusting through the passenger cabin of the chopper. Nothing was sweeter than the smell of Tampa Bay, except freedom.

He was home.

He pulled his absent gaze from the shadows lingering over the deep blue waters of the Gulf of Mexico. One by one, he assessed six dirt-clad, bloodstained faces joining him in a silent choir. Forty-eight hours ago, they had been someone’s worst nightmare…walking monsters. And there was no remorse for the job they had done. They were the only team capable of the task. The one team that would fulfill their duty over and over again if it meant America could sleep at night.

Salty sea mist swirled in off the blades of the chopper and tingled his nose, attempting to yank his mind from the remnants of death: images of screaming women, smoked-out huts, breathless children, and ruthless warlords. Hell, his hands still gripped the very weapon that had taken more than a few lives but saved hundreds more.

The casualties of war…or was it the horrors? Neither could ever be erased.

He and his Black Ops team saw so many. Secret mission after secret mission in the name of protecting those they loved, which for some meant they would never know the definition of family beyond those who had raised them or the men they served alongside. Danger outfitted them like a second skin, and the code that bonded them to the brotherhood of Black 2131 was strict and intentional to help avoid complications no soldier could endure.

Blades from the HH-60 Pave Hawk became deafening as it lost force and lowered through thick morning fog to the landing pad. Brenden jumped from the side compartment, boots hitting the cement, then turned back, watching Luke, Roderick, Josh, Trent, Lincoln, and Carlos scramble to unload. He closed his eyes and offered up a silent prayer. Only God’s mercy had brought them all back home in one piece.

Goddamn, who’d guess it was New Year’s Eve with this muggy-ass, eighty-degree weather? Trent snickered after coming down silent as a jungle cat behind Brenden.

Better than the sand trap we just left, Josh yelled as he jumped from the helicopter, then continued to stride inside with the rest of the team to prep for a debrief.

Yo, Jas, Trent called to Brenden, using his nickname, while gesturing to the gates ahead. Looks like Megan went and got her daddy to talk some sense into you, huh? I thought y’all were done. She ain’t gonna let you out tonight? An echo of laughter followed Trent’s taunt.

That’s if Jas wants to be let out. Roderick elbowed Brenden. Shit, I may skip Tariq’s party. I ain’t had pussy in weeks and we out in the morning.

Zero seven hundred, Brenden muttered gruffly, scratching his chin stubble while zooming in on Megan and the unmarked black sedan parked behind her.

The queen of manipulation had once again exploited her father’s political connections and gained access to restricted military space. Brenden wasn’t surprised to see the pretty blonde waving to him with a perfect Miss America smile. Ever since he’d arrived back home from Beirut three months ago, Megan had become desperate. She’d started bringing up the M word, kids, and everything spelling future in bright lights. None of which he wanted. All of which had led to their separation.

Even now, the sight of her at the gate, coupled with knowing her father was sitting inside the car next to her, reaffirmed his stance. Brenden would easily give up his night of quiet reflection to attend Tariq’s shindig.

Brenden shrugged. You want me to come chew the fat with you knuckleheads? He chuckled, knowing a night out with the boys was definitely what he needed after this mission and before the next. Besides, bringing in the New Year with the woman who was no longer his girlfriend was not an option. I’m in.

Brenden ignored the heckling from his men as he took to a light jog to greet Megan. The petite woman rushed the gate and, out of nowhere, threw herself into Brenden’s stiff arms. His half hug made her cling harder to his six-foot-four, muscle-clad frame that always dominated her slender daintiness.

I missed you. Didn’t you miss me? she asked, pressing herself too close for comfort.

Why are you here, Megan? He stepped back and stared into her blue eyes. Her pouty lips proved she still thought the breakup was one of their many time-outs.

Before she could answer, the rear passenger side door of the black sedan opened. Her father, Senator Beau Franks, unfolded his long, slender body from the back seat and came to where Brenden stood with Megan. One look from the senator turned Megan into a contrite teen who’d had her privileges revoked. Without a goodbye, she climbed into the waiting car.

Brenden, my boy. Senator Franks greeted him with a handshake as he gave a fleeting once-over of his waiting car. My daughter hasn’t taken the breakup well. I admit, I had hoped to see our families united. However, that isn’t why I’m here. The senator peered in the distance, then returned his attention to Brenden. As you may know, the Senate Armed Services Committee is investigating the arms deal we made with our coalition partners in the east. The analysis I just sat through hasn’t convinced me that we’re on the wrong side of this. I want to avoid politicizing the issue. You’ve always been a straight shooter and your team is on the front line. What should I know before convening a session with my committee?

Brenden’s vision narrowed and flashed to red, slicing the senator into pieces he wanted to throw away. You’re allowing American weapons manufacturers to sell to our so-called allies, but then they turn around and distribute those same weapons to our enemies.

So you disapprove?

I question your and the committee’s view of national security. Brenden stared into the senator’s growing red face. Did he see anger or frustration? He didn’t give a fuck. Not after intel confirmed he and his men had targets on their backs from the work they were doing to disrupt black market weapons deals with rebel militias. The policy coming out of D.C. impacted the lives of all who fell under his command and the success of Operation Jackal’s Lair, an impending top secret mission. The weapons being sold to coalition partners are issued to rebel forces and then used in attacks against us. Look at me.

Brenden stepped into the man’s personal space. I just got off a fucking chopper. I’m bloodstained, sweaty, and dirty as shit. Haven’t had a shower in two days, but you and those members on your committee slept safe and sound last night.

Brenden, we appreciate everything you and your men do for this country.

Brenden lifted his cap, attempting to finger-comb his matted hair. His narrow gaze went from the senator to the shadow of Megan behind the tinted window. Again, he should’ve been surprised, but he wasn’t. Time had shown him that the Franks family had no interest in his well-being unless it benefited theirs. And right now, their only concern was the senator’s political capital. Forget that Brenden needed to employ self-care and decompress his mind.

Do me a favor. Brenden began walking backward so he could face the man who still blamed him for his family’s unhappiness. Never come here again like this, and never try to use me as a pawn in whatever political game you’re playing. He then turned and jogged to where his team stood in the distance unloading their equipment.

And he never looked back.

Hours after the team debrief and refit, the unexpected visit from Senator Franks and Megan still didn’t sit right. The committee’s investigation was leaning in a direction that increased safety concerns as the missions were becoming more frequent and hostile. It didn’t help that for every hour passing since he left Megan and her father at the gates of MacDill Airforce Base, she had called. Even now, with two hours left before the New Year rang in, she was calling. Her constant hounding made it easy for him to cross the illuminated causeway to Tariq’s beachfront pad.

He needed a small reprieve before boarding the plane tomorrow and being dropped into another conflict zone. Tonight gave him a chance to forget the nightmares he’d created, and by the time Brenden arrived at the party, he made a pact to find fun, drinks, a dance…each with a different woman, perhaps.

Brenden’s fingers rushed his tousled hair before pressing the button to raise the top on his obsidian BMW6 convertible. He began strolling from the car, bopping to the too loud music coming from Tariq’s house. Before he could step into the driveway, though, he froze. A woman was down on her hands and knees looking underneath a car.

He knew he should help, at least ask if she needed him to, but his mind was currently distracted by the shape of her supple round ass. Doggie style had always been his favorite position, and this woman, with her ass up and tightly bound in an emerald green dress highlighting the glow of her brown skin, could be Superman’s kryptonite.

Shit! The sound of the woman’s feisty voice cut his daydream.

He hesitated for another moment as he became lost while tracing the richness of her complexion. Is something wrong with your car?

This isn’t my car. She huffed. I was on my way back in and dropped my phone. The slim, hourglass beauty stood, hands ironing her dress. Strands of her black hair caught the wind before she turned to face him. When their gazes met for a second, she gasped, then dragged her eyes down his form before she blushed and looked away. I can’t reach it. I need to get my phone before it becomes tonight’s trash.

Without hesitation, Brenden dropped to his knees to avoid staring at the incredibly gorgeous woman. The way her beautiful eyes had trailed over him innocently, checking him out, was sexy to no end. He wanted to kiss her full, glossy lips and find out if they would be as sweet as caramel drizzled over vanilla ice cream.

While chasing a flurry of inappropriate thoughts away, Brenden reached underneath the car, and his fingers stretched until he grasped the smartphone. He stood, presenting the woman with her phone, and received a smile that took his breath away.

Thank you!

He nodded, unable to speak, then bent over to brush gravel from his pants legs.

I’m sorry, those look like really nice slacks. Her mischievous brown orbs twinkled as they traveled up his body and rested at his face. I’m Paige. Her eyes locked to his as she extended her hand.

Brenden. He took the petite hand into his.

Warmth saturated his body, and the air around them became thick, suffocating almost. The last time he had this feeling was at age eleven when he kissed a girl for the first time, and that was twenty-three years ago. Time had long passed from him being the kid infatuated with his older sister’s best friend. So why was this happening?

Not a question he cared to entertain. And yet, for some strange reason, he couldn’t help employing skills he’d learned while training for clandestine missions. First, he caught hold of his mental awareness. Second, he had to know if the effect she had on him was reciprocal, so he studied her.

Her skin was flushed, lips parted, and there was an erratic bounce of the pulse at her neckline. Her body was telling him everything he needed to know while an unfamiliar wave of satisfaction rooted within.

Shall we? He gestured to the front door.

…

A spine-tingling sensation rushed Paige when the smooth, southern tenor belonging to Brenden sounded from behind. His deep voice was like the finest wine: silky, rich, and powerful enough to conjure her naughtiest thoughts. Thoughts that spiraled out of control the moment she turned and looked into his eyes.

Those eyes gave definition to a cosmic collision. They glittered with shades of blue, gray, and specks of gold as his heated gaze traveled every inch of her body, scorching her with unspoken desire.

God, he was the perfect dose of lust.

The man standing before her didn’t fit the bill for the typical military guys she expected to see tonight. There was something different about Brenden. Something intriguing her beyond his tousled blond mane, Milky-Way eyes, chiseled jawline, and keen nose meshing into tall, tan, masculine perfection.

Perhaps it was the way he had dropped down onto his knees without hesitation, dirtying his tailored suit pants to retrieve her phone. Or was it the way he looked at her like he was Adam and she was Eve, two people seeing one of God’s creations for the very first time?

No man had ever taken Paige hostage and made her heart race with just one look, but this one did.

A soft smile curved her lips at his gesture to go inside. Chivalry wasn’t dead, and neither was the angst she began experiencing after realizing a fine-as-hell man was about to walk behind her. Now wasn’t the time to become a crush-struck girl. Paige pulled her shit together, swirled the phrase, God please let me still look good in her head, and then took a deep breath before turning to walk up the sidewalk. The whole time she prayed her ass lived up to its expectations.

Her thoughts were traitorous. Minutes ago she had fled the swanky digs, wishing to be in her parents’ home. There she would’ve savored the smell of fresh baked carrot cake and black-eyed peas while waiting for the New Year to ring in. But that was before Brenden, and after Richard.

For the millionth time this evening, she snubbed thoughts of her asshole ex. Her concentration settled on how she was now bowing to a newfound desire to remain at the party her best friend, Bellamy, had persuaded her to attend. Paige peeked over her shoulder. She caught a whiff of Brenden’s clean masculine scent before his smoldering gaze made her heart beat like a bass drum. It was a miracle she maintained perfect steps in stilettos while entering the beachfront bachelor pad.

Enjoy your night, she said to Brenden, attempting to contain her smile but failing miserably as she walked away.

Paige wandered the open space, sliding past raised laughter and slurred words in search of Bellamy. While scanning the house, she noticed the men were a bit different from Bellamy’s normal. Of course they were military, because those were the only men her best friend liked. However, most of the men present didn’t sport the high-and-tight or low fade haircuts.

In fact, some had long hair; a good deal of them had beards and goatees. And all of the men seemed to have been elevated to rock-star status based on the way women were swooning over them. Unfortunately, Bellamy wasn’t an exception.

Paige followed the sound of her friend’s laughter until she caught sight of a tall, dark-haired man whispering into Bellamy’s ear. As Paige drew closer, she witnessed the Jessica Rabbit behavior her BFF often employed while socializing with members of the opposite sex. Bellamy was always so confident and liberal in her interactions with men.

Unlike Paige, who was conservative and sometimes shy when it came to men. Blame it on her overbearing father and two big brothers, although in truth, her awkward social behavior was the by-product of being thrown into college at sixteen. For so long, she was the too young, underdeveloped college freshman not allowed to date. When Bellamy arrived a year later on the college scene, Paige evolved. But she never really met the social mark when it came to discarded traditionalist views where dating was concerned.

Decided to stay? her friend asked with a wink. Paige shrugged off Bellamy’s sarcasm and grabbed a glass of wine from a moving tray. Thank God. Bellamy snickered once more while rolling her eyes at Paige. Well, this is Tariq, our host for the evening.

Nice to meet you. Thanks for inviting us. Paige offered her hand to the man. He made her think of the Saudi prince who consistently made the world’s top ten hottest guys list. He was regal, handsome, and a bit arrogant as he took three steps instead of one and began a gentle caress of her hand with his thumb. She pulled her hand from his, not liking the attention he seemed determined to give. You have a nice place.

You look nice in it. Tariq closed the gap between them. Bellamy has kept you under wraps. He fingered a loose strand from her cheek and then began undressing her with his intense hazel eyes. Killer body, beautiful brown eyes, and lips made for sin. I could eat you, Paige.

Tariq! Bellamy stepped in and slapped his hand. Be a good boy.

I am. His finger traced along Paige’s collarbone. I need your friend to be a bad girl. Paige flicked his hand away and took a step back. Tariq tilted his chin, frowned, and then walked away while Bellamy covered her mouth, fighting back mirth.

Paige cut her bestie a deep sideways glance. That guy is a dick, Bellamy.

True. I mean, he does have a lot of it. Bellamy glanced toward Tariq and gave a sly smile.

You’ve fucked him?

Hellll, yes! He’s a certified freak and you know I like ’em extra freaky.

Paige’s cheeks exploded with laughter. Oh my God. Sooo, do you like him?

Hellll no. He’s a hoe. It’s just good—I mean great fucking. Maybe you should try it. It’ll damn sure take your mind off that pencil-dick asshole you dated for almost two years. Who, by the way, never gave you an orgasm.

Paige rolled her eyes deep within their sockets at the mention of Richard. Her ex was the product of her middle brother’s horrible matchmaking skills, and a year and a half had been wasted on a self-absorbed, rich pretty boy who lacked reasonable depth unless his photo was being taken for a newspaper.

Belli!

I’m just saying. We’re both on the wrong side of twenty-five to be faking orgasms. Bellamy grabbed Paige’s hand and proceeded to the beverage station. You can’t tell me that no one here has made you contemplate plating your cookies.

A sudden warmth saturated Paige. She looked around, seeing people on the stairs, in the living room, on the pool deck, on the balcony, and then there he was…Brenden. His blazing stare made her body temperature spike. It seemed as if the man hadn’t lost sight of her since they entered the house. Truth be told, she didn’t know if she wanted him to.

The minute her brown eyes met his blue-grays, she turned away, embarrassed he might sense she was looking for him or, worse, that she wanted him. Wanted him in a way she had never wanted anyone. Her heart stuttered because she never thought like this when it came to men.

Paige took a deep breath. The butterflies in her belly settled, and then she dared to take another look. This time, Brenden winked and raised his glass to her before sipping the contents.

Infinite seconds passed before she finally lifted her glass in return. Him, she whispered, turning to Bellamy’s side as she sipped her wine. In the back to my left. Tall, tan—

And fine as hell! He’s a damn tree I’d love to climb.

Belli, stop! Paige giggled as her friend continued to stare in Brenden’s direction.

I’ve never seen him before, but he is hot! You should go say something.

Paige shrugged, fighting back the social anxiety she had been plagued with forever. Have you forgotten? That isn’t me.

Why, because he’s white?

No, because I’m a lady. I’m not approaching a man.

Oh gawd, must you always be so old-fashioned? Dare to live, Paige.

Besides, Paige looked over her shoulder. This time Brenden was occupied by a few women. Doesn’t seem like I’d be his type.

Because you’re Black?

Umm… I don’t know. He just seems like the type who’s into tall, skinny, big-boobed no-booty blondes.

Bellamy erupted in laughter and cajoled a few giggles from Paige.

Paige, dear, you’re like a buck twenty-five. And your ass, well, it is one to be admired. Bellamy slapped Paige on the behind. You’re passing stereotypes. He may like little, short, curvy girls like you, too. You never know. You would, however, if you said something.

No thanks.

Hmmm…well, you’ll figure it out. Until you do, let’s make a round or two.

Chapter Two

Brenden glanced down to his Q8—only three minutes before the infamous ball dropped in Times Square. For a second, he thought of his mother. Right about now, Joan Jasper would be bustling around the Jasper Estate spreading her never-ending excitement for the New Year at her annual gala. Years had passed since Brenden attended, and he didn’t miss the high society gathering. His family’s party reminded him that he was different because he chose to live life bound to a code.

He didn’t get the luxury to think about second chances and resolutions. Not while a monster lurked within him, when he often thought of how to cleanse his mind, body, and soul from the blood he spilled on missions. Tonight at Tariq’s took his mind off what would come next. There was no pressure to conform, no great expectations, no judgment, and he could actually have fun.

Brenden took another swig of his drink. The burn of the liquor chased the darkest parts of him away. He became appreciative of the cheer surrounding him and then allowed his line of sight to fall on the woman he had met outside.

Without hesitation, he began moving to her. The countdown started, and now he had four seconds before Paige’s bright and contagious smile would hopefully be his prize for the night.

Brenden. Amanda, his comrade and good friend since West Point days, grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him to her, reminding him of less complicated times. Two…one… Happy New Year! She wrapped her arms around his neck and planted a kiss on his cheek.

Happiness, the kind that was rare for him to experience, crept in. He chuckled and wrapped his arms back around his friend. Happy New Year, Manda!

They raised their voices in chorus, joining in on the song of days gone by, before moving about the space and greeting other friends. After a while of pretending to be social, Brenden eased into a circle and bided his time with Trent, Josh, Linc, Luke, and a few others not belonging to their elite Black Ops brotherhood. They hung back and observed the crowd’s mass exodus while staying behind to partake in the scandalous parade of adult fun.

Under normal circumstances, Brenden would have bolted the minute the countdown was over. These types of parties were known to take on an alternate life, and he didn’t like entertaining tenacious women who were always looking for more than he was willing to give.

Despite his reservations and the deployment in the morning, he remained while disregarding his pick of the groupie litter. He wanted only one woman—Paige. He cursed himself for not getting to her in time to make another gesture of goodwill by wishing her Happy New Year.

Throughout the night, he had watched her. She was like a little bee in a field of poppies, beautifully mingling and flirting before turning her stinger on many of his colleagues’ advances. Her constant rejections were why he decided to pace himself against the competition, making him want her even more. He burned all over to feel her skin and smell the fragrant bouquet of her perfume that had made his head swim as he kneeled in front of her. There had been women he wanted in the past, but this one he needed to capture…if only for one night.

Because there could never be more than that.

Dude, stop staring. Trent bumped Brenden and then grinned wide. Which one has caught your eye? The one in gold—Trent angled his head to the left then slowly moved it to the right—or her friend in the green?

Green seems to be my favorite color tonight. Brenden’s head remained tilted to the right as he watched a random guy approach Paige. He unfolded from a relaxed lean against the bar top and stood at attention. Paige would be his New Year’s resolution. Not that of the lanky, civilian dork talking to her now.

Yes, green is stunning. Those legs.

Everything. Brenden took another sip of gin. She’s curvy, and…fucking perfect.

That’s because she’s a Pilates fiend. She also runs a few times during the week.

Brenden and Trent whipped around to see the mahogany-skinned girl in the gold dress flaunting a wide smile.

Happy New Year! She raked a bold gaze over Trent. How y’all fellas doing? I’m Bellamy, and you two are?

Trent. He stepped in front of Brenden, flashing pearly whites.

Brenden. Brenden sipped from his glass, then glanced over his shoulder only to see Paige had vanished. Where’s your friend?

You mean Paige? The vixen in gold gave a sly smile, looked over her shoulder, and then turned her attention to Trent. He hadn’t stopped ogling the way her cleavage greeted him from her V-cut dress. You like them, Trent?

Brenden barked a hearty chuckle, seeing his comrade get put on the spot. Yes, Paige, he finally responded through laughter.

I like them, and you. The things I’d do. Trent took one step toward Bellamy before being halted by Brenden’s hard arm.

You can have Trent after you answer my question, Bellamy.

Knowing Paige, she probably went to the balcony for air. She’s not going to say anything to you, but if you say something to her… The woman winked, tugged Trent’s lapel as an order to follow, and the two disappeared.

Brenden tossed back the last of his drink before strolling toward the sliding glass doors. He disregarded the half-naked women vying for his attention, but paused at the sight of his ex-Black 2131 operative Tariq. His ex-comrade sucked on the nipples of a redhead while a brunette massaged his dick. Their dirty little picture was the reason most came to these parties. Except he didn’t envy his friend this evening.

Brenden couldn’t think of any woman beyond the one he’d met on his way in. The way that damn green dress clung to her hourglass figure and revealed her shapely legs still had his mind doing somersaults. Those were the legs he wanted wrapped around him. Her lips, both sets, were what he wanted to taste.

Where the hell is she?

Brenden went to the balcony and got nothing. When he turned to go back inside, the flicker of a shadow caught his eye, but the shape moving toward the house was too large to be the petite-framed woman he was seeking. Familiar battle-ready tension heated his veins. He stilled, giving his eyes a second to adjust, and then recognized the blur of a silver barrel tight at the torso of the shadow.

Predator instincts crept in. He jumped over the second-story balcony, landing as if his feet hit the clouds. Under the canopy of night that he most often operated from, he pulled his Colt .45 and began moving forward, then trailing the shadow. The scent was— Couldn’t be. Jacob Henderson’s trail had gone cold last year after Yemen, where the team had dodged an ambush.

Happy New Year to you, too, Mommy! Tell Lauren that Te-Te Paige is sorry she missed watching the ball drop with her.

Brenden glanced up to the third-story balcony then shook his head, severing the distraction Paige’s sultry voice induced while refocusing on his surroundings. He took a few more steps in the dark, scanning the perimeter, but there was no movement, and the scent he had latched onto had been replaced by the pungent salty air of Clearwater Beach. He lowered his gun and stood still, scratching his head. Since threats of a contract of a hit on his team were confirmed, his internal alert system had been hypersensitive. But now he wondered if paranoia wasn’t getting the best of him.

Padded footsteps and a feminine giggle sweeter than any lullaby turned his gaze back up to the third floor. There she was. Long black hair blew carelessly in the wind as Paige endured the rush of the ocean breeze.

The girl in the green dress was the beauty who stole his breath, focus, and ability to think rationally. Thank God he hadn’t been on a mission. Losing focus for a second could cost him his life and the lives of his men. It had already happened once, a fate he didn’t care to relive in this