Xtreme rules xtreme ops.., p.1
Xtreme Rules (Xtreme Ops Book 9), page 1
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Xtreme Rules
Xtreme Ops
Book 9
Copyright Em Petrova 2022
Ebook Edition
Electronic book publication 2022
Cover Art by Bookin’ It Designs
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Xtreme Ops
HITTING XTREMES
TO THE XTREME
XTREME BEHAVIOR
XTREME AFFAIRS
XTREME MEASURES
XTREME PRESSURE
XTREME LIMITS
NORTH OF LOVE Xtreme Ops Alaska Search and Rescue
XTREME RULES
In matters of life and death—and love—sometimes Xtreme Rules apply…
Bruce Winston spends most of his time on skis. Whether it’s taking out national security threats with the Xtreme Ops team or just for fun, his life is all about hitting the powder. Lately, though, he’s found yet another reason to be on the slopes: a stunning ski instructor who might’ve gotten herself into the kind of trouble only someone like him can fix.
Cleo Carver is used to men hitting on her at work. But Winston is different. Together, they generate enough steam to melt every slope in Alaska. But just when she’s ready to claim her sexy military man, she stumbles across a potential terrorist who has no intention of letting her get to happily ever after.
Winston will do everything in his power to save Cleo and neutralize the bad guys. But at the end of the day, will it be enough to keep their new romance from ending in tragedy?
If action and adventure in the mountains and smoking-hot nights spent in front of crackling fires are your thing, 1-CLICK XTREME RULES and continue the Xtreme Ops BINGE.
XTREME RULES
by
Em Petrova
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Epilogue
Chapter One
“Step on the scale. I’ll get your height and weight.” The pretty brunette nurse gestured for Winston to do as she’d asked.
He grunted. “Why do you need my height and weight again? I’ve had these checkups every month since my accident.”
She offered him a smile that said she would be forceful if she had to be. Which contrasted with the scrubs sporting tiny sailboats that she wore. “It’s protocol, Bruce.”
With an internal groan, he stepped on to the scale. She recorded the numbers, a frown marring her brows. “You lost four pounds since your last visit. Have you been eating?”
He lifted a hand and rubbed at the scar puckering his cheek. The injury from the explosion on the oil pipeline hadn’t only sheered a few pounds off Winston. He’d also been sidelined from his special forces unit, which left him fighting to keep the muscle he’d worked hard to build.
After getting blown up during a mission, he expected the time off and the physical therapy for his right shoulder and side. But struggling to get back his zest for life came as a shock.
“Stand up straight. You’re slouching.”
He thrust his shoulders back and elongated his spine.
“Six feet two inches,” the nurse said.
He swallowed his irritation. Of course he hadn’t shrunk. His legs worked fine. He hadn’t sustained a spinal injury. It was the right half of his body that bore the scars.
His biggest affliction these days was seeing his reflection. He avoided mirrors except when shaving. Not that he’d been vain to begin with, but now he wanted to hide himself from public sight. And ever going shirtless at the beach again was out of the question.
People’s reactions to him were the worst. He either got pity-filled glances or people pretended not to see him at all.
“Okay, room two today, Bruce.”
He stepped off the scale and sauntered into the patient room. As soon as his backside hit the paper-covered table, he stuck out his arm for the nurse to wrap the blood pressure cuff around.
She smiled at him. “I guess you have been here quite a lot these past few months.”
“Yeah, and I don’t know why either. I’m fine. Healed. Healthy enough to return to duty.”
She pumped the cuff so it squeezed his arm. As she read the dial, he studied her out of the corner of his eye. Once upon a time, before his face turned into ground meat that required several skin grafts and a hell of a lot of healing time, and his shoulder hadn’t been burned and ripped out of joint, he would have had enough balls to ask out a pretty girl for drinks and a movie.
And he was always up for more if the time was right.
His teammates on the Xtreme Ops team called him a gigolo and razzed him for how many women he’d taken to his bed, joking that he’d wined, dined and sixty-nined the entire female population of Alaska during his time here.
And his comeback was that there weren’t that many women in Alaska to begin with.
The nurse released the pressure on the cuff. “Normal.”
“I know,” he said.
She took a seat with her laptop. “Any changes with your medications?”
“I’m not on anything.”
“Not even the painkillers?”
“Quit those after the second surgery. I hated how they made me feel.” Out of control. If there was anything Winston despised, it was that swirling, detached feeling he got from alcohol or drugs.
“Tough guy,” she mumbled, tapping at the laptop keys. Finally, she looked up. “I really hope the doctor clears you for duty today, Bruce.”
“Thanks. Me too.” He’d gone far beyond the antsy, sitting around stage to the point where he’d get pissed off if he even saw a TV remote. He’d taken up running even longer distances than his captain, Penn, forced them all through on routine drills over rough terrain in full gear.
She touched his shoulder.
He jerked away.
Her eyes widened, and she blinked rapidly at his response.
Aw, shit. He hadn’t meant to make her uncomfortable. Dammit, what was wrong with him? She was only extending a hand of friendship. She’d been part of his healing journey, for god’s sake.
“Sorry, just a little jumpy,” he muttered.
“Take care of yourself, Bruce. I’ll see you next time you’re in, whenever that is.” She gave him a smile that was small and a little bit sad.
He twisted his gaze away, unable to endure her pity too.
“See ya,” he returned with no trace of enthusiasm in his tone.
As soon as she stepped out and closed the door, he dropped his face into his hands. Under his palm, the puckered skin hadn’t yet regained all feeling. But he didn’t need a face to fight alongside his brothers. Penn, Lipton, Broshears and the others. Paxton, Day and Cora, who he’d been through special ops training with.
The four of them had propped each other up at their lowest times and rallied to keep up the fight so they could all join the division of Homeland Security known as OFFAT, for Operation Freedom Flag Alaska Tundra.
They’d been there when the explosion took him out. He still remembered Day’s face, darkened with worry, hovering over him right before they got him in the chopper and medevacked him.
The dark thoughts continued, and Winston plowed through memories of the long months of recovery including extensive physical and psychological therapy. He’d already been cleared by the shrink and had enough physical therapy to make sure his neck and shoulder had regained full range of motion.
All he had left was to get the surgeon to sign off.
The minute Dr. Roscoe scrawled on the dotted line, Winston would be out that door, grabbing a weapon and heading to the shooting range to blow off some steam.
When a knock came and the door cracked, Winston arranged his expression into what he hoped was something passing for congenial.
Dr. Roscoe entered with his usual smile. “Hey, how are you? You’re looking well.”
When he smiled, he felt the tight skin pull at the corner of his mouth. “Doin’ well. I’m hoping you give me the green light.”
“Let’s see what we can do.” He set his laptop on the counter and approached Winston.
He endured the poking and prodding. Turning his head right and left and performing moves with his shoulder to prove he had his full range of motion back and was more than capable of chasing down terrorists and any other threats on Alaskan soil.
Five minutes later, the coveted release papers in hand, he headed straight for the Moose Antler, a local bar where he promised to meet his teammates regardless of the outcome of to
How long had it been since he’d seen the whole group? Too goddamn long.
When he walked through the door into the dimly lit space, a cheer went up. His heart lifted.
This was where he belonged—with his brothers.
A sea of smiles greeted him, and he couldn’t help but grin in return.
Penn Sullivan walked over to him. “Well?”
Winston held up the papers.
“Yeah, man! He’s back!” Paxton shot a fist into the air.
Applause broke out, and Penn yanked him in for a bro-hug.
“Somebody get this man a drink!” Day called out.
A beer mug was thrust into his hand, and he was jostled from person to person, receiving thumps on the back and fist-bumps is the best welcome-back party he could ever want.
He swore he was congratulated twice by everyone. After they settled a bit, Penn lifted his own beer. “To Winston! May you live to fight and fuck another day!”
Laughing, he took a big mouthful of beer and toasted to that.
When he lowered his mug, his gaze landed on a woman. She was seated on the opposite end of the bar, a soft smile gracing her lips. She wore a thick turtleneck sweater of a bright blue that contrasted to the toasted nut-brown of her hair.
And her eyes glowed.
She gave him a slight nod of acknowledgment.
He returned it but made sure to keep the good side of his face toward her.
As everyone around him talked and laughed and enjoyed themselves, Winston couldn’t help but feel the weight of his life now.
In the past, he wouldn’t have hesitated to find a reason to talk to that beautiful woman drinking something with several cherries floating in it. In no time, he’d have her number entered into his phone too.
Now everything was different. He was different.
And he couldn’t stand the thought of how she—or any other woman—would react to his new body.
Cleo Carver brought her tiny swizzle straw to her lips and sipped the Disaronno sour. But after the day she’d had, there wasn’t enough alcohol in Alaska to turn her time into a party.
Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the group gathered around the bar having so much fun…talking and laughing while she battled tears.
It kicked off with a long day at the ski resort giving lessons to beginners and children, eventually progressing to an older crowd. Then her best-tipping client failed to show up without even bothering to cancel with her. Not only had she wasted half an hour on the slope waiting for her, but she’d also lost out on another student.
More money down the drain. And she was already so tight she squeaked when she walked.
Then she’d come home early to take her Grandpa Max to his doctor’s appointment. After weeks of struggling to find an answer to the problem of his forgetfulness, they finally had it.
And it wasn’t good, either.
Alzheimer’s. The word no one ever wanted to hear, least of all her. She loved Grandpa Max with all her heart and soul. They only had each other left.
Now she’d have to figure out how to keep him safely at the house he’d spent forty years in on her unpredictable income.
She swallowed a sigh and sucked in more amaretto-flavored alcohol. She’d asked the waitress to go easy on the portion—she needed to drive home.
She tossed a covert glance over her shoulder at the pool table in the back of the bar and then quickly turned around.
The last thing she wanted was for her coworker, Rhett, who was shooting a game with friends, to offer to drive her home. He didn’t need yet another excuse for being near her. Lately it felt like she spent half her days at the resort avoiding him.
“Can I buy you a drink?” Rhett’s distinctive voice filled her ear.
Oh crap—he’d seen her glance his way.
She tensed on her stool and wrapped her fingers more tightly around her glass. “I already have one, but thanks.”
He leaned against the bar, eyeing her up. “Join us in our game of pool then. You can be on my team.”
“I’m good here.”
His gaze wandered over her face. “I hate the thought of you drinking alone.”
She spotted Lynn, her waitress friend, bopping her direction and shot her a help-me smile. “I’ve been chatting with Lynn between customers.”
Her friend bustled over, a question mark in her brown eyes. She leaned against the bar in her signature move that put all of her cleavage on display in her V-necked top. She knew it too—it was how she got so many tips. She kept asking Cleo to work here at the Moose Antler bar with her, but Cleo could barely keep up with one job and her grandfather.
That’s only going to get worse.
To her relief, Lynn struck up a conversation with Rhett while Cleo sipped her drink. As she listened—and offered as little as possible—she studied Rhett. It wasn’t that he was repulsive. He was actually good-looking, with tousled brown hair and brown eyes. His skills on the slopes were topnotch, and they gave him the chiseled body of an athlete.
It was just…he didn’t interest her.
She preferred great conversation on topics that interested her to shooting pool. She’d been at enough parties and social gatherings with Rhett present to know that he loved to discuss sports and current affairs on repeat.
The straw tapped the bottom of her glass, making a noise.
“Let me buy you another drink, Cleo. C’mon,” he pressured her. “And don’t say that you’re worried you’ll have too many, because I’ll drive you home. You know I’m more than willing.”
“Yes, I do.” Boy, did she know. He’d asked her out twice now, and she knew the minute he cornered her alone, he’d be asking a third.
Lynn picked up on the vibes Cleo was laying down, and thankfully, jumped in. “Uh, Cleo, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about my brother.”
She perked up. “Oh yes, how is he?” She’d never met Lynn’s brother in her life.
She rested an arm on the bar, settling in for a longer chat. “He’s doing really well. You remember he got that promotion and—”
“I’ll just get back to my game now,” Rhett interrupted.
Cleo and Lynn gave him a nod. As soon as he walked away, she let out a low sigh.
“Thanks,” she whispered to her friend.
“No prob. But what’s the deal? He’s cute, isn’t he? Hair that a woman just wants to run her fingers through…especially in bed.” She waggled her eyebrows.
“Shh! He might hear you. Believe me, he’s already got a big enough ego without hearing you talk about how he’d be in bed.”
Lynn looked at her closer. “He’s clearly into you, Cleo. And you were pretty chilly to him.”
She pushed away her drink. “I don’t know. He’s a nice enough guy. I’m just not sure he’s for me. Besides, I refuse to date a coworker. I need this job.”
Especially since it gave her the nights off she needed to stay home and take care of her grandfather. She wouldn’t have that working at the Moose Antler.
A prickle of awareness ran up the back of her neck. She glanced up to find the guy who was the man of honor of his own party looking her way.
He quickly turned his head, and she realized he probably wasn’t looking at her at all, and that was probably a good thing, since he hadn’t recognized her from the ski resort. A few months back, she’d seen him around a lot. Sipping hot coffee in the lounge or tearing up the slopes. She didn’t know his name, but she liked to be friendly to those she ran into outside of work.
“Be right back, hon. Got a customer!” Lynn bounced away.
It was just as well—Cleo needed to get home and relieve her neighbor, Mrs. Morgan, and take over the care of her grandpa. It felt as though she hadn’t had personal time in ages, and that wasn’t going to get better.
Reaching for the down vest she’d removed when she entered, she slipped off the stool. Two guys were standing in her way and she couldn’t get around them.
“Excuse me,” she said.
They turned. Recognition lit their eyes. “Oh hey!” one said. “Haven’t I seen you at the resort?”
“Yes. You’re the medics, aren’t you? You picked up that little girl with the broken knee the other day.”
They bobbed their heads. “That’s right,” the taller of the two said. “Hey, you’re not leaving are you? Before you let me buy you a drink?”
