Saving Secrets Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Information

  Also by K. W. Hall

  About Saving Secrets

  Prologue

  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

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Epilogue

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  SAVING

  SECRETS

  Book Three in the Sinful Secrets Series

  K.W. HALL

  Visit www.kwhallnovels.com

  for updates on upcoming releases.

  Copyright © 2022 K.W. Hall

  All rights reserved.

  Editor: Liz Long, Blue Fire Media

  Cover Designer: Rachel Bostwick

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval systems without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, locations, or events is entirely coincidental.

  ALSO BY K.W. HALL

  SINFUL SECRETS SERIES:

  Satisfying Secrets

  Sanctuary of Secrets

  THE WAR OF FATE SAGA:

  The Songs of Fate

  The Sisters of Fate (2023)

  ABOUT

  SAVING

  SECRETS

  No kiss goes unpunished.

  The woman known as Ace…

  Rhea, a former Coast Guard pilot, is on the search for work after being fired. Hoping to hide from her troubles, Rhea recklessly kisses a sexy stranger at a wedding before finding herself desperate enough to enter a dangerous contract with security firm AMN. But the first day on a job can be awkward, especially when your anonymous kisser is your new team leader…

  The one they call Viking…

  Reginn is weighed down by the blood on his hands. Unable to leave his mistakes in the past, Reginn won’t take a chance on a hotshot pilot without combat experience. He doesn’t believe Rhea has what it takes to complete the mission, and he makes sure she knows it. Despite his objections, Rhea is their last chance—and he can’t deny the woman kisses as good as she spars.

  When south of the equator, throw the rule book out the window because the heat is rising and so are the secrets.

  Can Reginn and Rhea save each other,

  or will their desire lead to a darkness neither can return from?

  PROLOGUE

  From: Maxwell Davidson

 

  To: Rhea Davidson

 

  Re,

  I know these past few months have been hard on you. There are so many things I want to tell you. So many things I will never be able to explain. This deployment feels longer than the last. I think it’s because we can’t talk. I can’t hear your voice. Even though you’re busy out there, I don’t know if I’ll stop wishing I could keep you beside me always. We could sit on the roof of the barn and watch the stars like we were teenagers again, when the only fear was if my parents would find us.

  I read your last email about your call sign. Don’t let it get to you. No one loves their nickname. That’s why you don’t get to pick it. It’s your first month. Before long you won’t remember these days because there will be others that erase them. The good comes with the bad, my love. Sometimes you have to fail a few times before you get it right. And I know you’ll get it right. Keep looking to the sky, and I’ll be home before you know it.

  I’m always with you,

  Max

  CHAPTER ONE

  RHEA

  I SNAGGED ANOTHER GLASS OF champagne off a passing tray. I’d stopped counting the number of flutes about two hours ago. Champagne might not have been the best choice to numb my thoughts when I should be job hunting or maybe packing the few remaining things left in my rental before I was forced out.

  I threw back the very expensive bubbly in a quick shot before striding across the reception hall to the women’s bathroom. Lena, Jake, and most of the wedding party were out on the dance floor enjoying the remaining hours of the night, but partaking in the festivities felt like being the violinist on the Titanic—playing along until the inevitable sinking of the ship I called my life.

  “What the hell am I going to do?” I rested my head against the closed door in defeat. I left the Coast Guard two years ago, finally leaving the military behind. I’d always felt constrained by their orders and regulations. There was a protocol for every damn thing, but the problem is life is unpredictable. And the rules made on the ground don’t work in the air. Not in real life.

  My commanding officers would’ve said I was too reckless, pushing the limits when I shouldn’t. But limits are a coward’s lies. I lived for adventure, for something new, something waiting for me around the corner. Unfortunately, those in the private sector didn’t so much see it my way either. Only one year into my contract as a commercial helicopter pilot, and I was fired.

  The tour group said they wanted to see the whales up close, so I got very, very close. But I was safe, my altitude was fine, yes, the Seattle weather had been a bit rough that day. When was it not? I ignored my boss’s warning to stay far away from the naval submarine base and their no-fly zone. And that’s what fucked me over.

  As soon as I landed, I knew I was in for it. Another warning, perhaps a slap on the wrist, but Trey, the owner, came out like a bull ready to fight. “This is the third infraction this month, Rhea! You’re flying families from Texas out for a vacation, not saving a wrecked fisherman, you can’t take risks.”

  I’d told him repeatedly it wasn’t a risk. I knew it was fine. I’d flown in weather ten times worse with almost no visibility. The rugged terrain in Alaska didn’t compare to anything else. But he wouldn’t let me explain. The moment I opened my mouth, Trey shook his head with a defeat in his eyes I didn’t expect. “You’re the best pilot I’ve ever had, but I can’t keep you. You’re gone, Rhea. I can’t operate if my pilots fly my customers where the military will shoot them down.”

  It hurt my pride—even more, my negative bank account. The next day I left for Jake and Lena’s wedding on a non-refundable plane ticket with no way to pay for my rental house next month. I could go back to the Coast Guard, maybe, with my tail between my legs, and pretend like there was nothing better out there. But I knew in my heart I couldn’t do it anymore. That’s why I left the military. The only time I felt something good was in the sky, pushing the boundaries just enough to remember I was still alive. I was still here. Even if Max wasn’t.

  Max would know what to do with my current situation. If he were here, he’d laugh about my lack of employment, tell me to screw them, and go find what I needed. But he wasn’t here. And his ghost wasn’t as talkative as he used to be. Still, it didn’t stop me from chatting with him from time to time.


  “Max,” I muttered to myself, banging my head against the door, “I could use some help right about now. If you see the bigger picture here, I’m all ears.”

  “I’m not in the business of solving people’s problems, but I’ll take a stab at it,” a rough male voice echoed behind me.

  I turned around so abruptly, I almost slid on my high heel and faceplanted. I recovered and grabbed onto the door for support. “This is the women’s bath—” Two icy blue eyes stunned me into silence. My eyes trailed up and down the figure behind me. This was not the women’s bathroom, but some sort of storage closet, and I was not alone. Standing like a mythical warrior in a solid black button-up shirt with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the man towered over my five-nine. It wasn’t every day I met a man who stood half a foot over me, especially in these death traps I wore for Lena’s wedding! His gigantic frame wasn’t just height, but muscle, if his wide shoulders, and thick, corded tree-trunk arms were any indication to what lay beneath his shirt. He stole every ounce of space in the closet with his presence alone.

  His starkly blond hair was tousled, haphazardly pulled back by a tie. It was just long enough to be considered a man-bun. But his short beard was cut clean along his neck. It appeared like the man only had time for one task—cut his hair or his beard, and he took the latter.

  Black and blue bruises marred his face from his right eye socket to his left cheek. Shallow abrasions crisscrossed his forehead and even his knuckles. They didn’t detract from the sexiness of his high cheekbones or chiseled jaw.

  “What the hell happened to you?” I asked.

  I knew I should probably hightail it out of the stockroom and let Lena and Jake know that a half-beaten waiter was drinking their champagne in the employee storage closet but the excessive amounts of alcohol coursing through my system disappeared all enlightened ideas out of my brain, leaving only the risk-taking, gun-blazing Rhea behind.

  A seductively wicked grin spread across the man’s face. “It’s just a scratch, and a lot of poor decision-making. Why are you seeking refuge in a storage closet?” His gravelly tone spread goosebumps down my arms. No one man should sound so delicious outside the bedroom.

  Whatever happened to him was definitely not a scratch, unless the scratch involved fighting a woodchipper.

  I surveyed the room, taking in all of the shelves of soap, paper towels, and other cleaning supplies. The man had an excellent question. What am I doing in here? “I was trying to find a place to be alone.” Seems like that won’t be happening. “Did you go a few rounds with a grizzly bear before coming to work?”

  The man leaned back against a shelf and laughed. “Not far off. The story is a bit stranger than a grizzly, though.” He waved off the thought with a shrug. “A story for another time. What about you, asking for help from an imaginary friend in a closet is more than odd, darling.”

  I chose to ignore his comment about Max.

  How do I explain to a stranger I sometimes talk to a ghost even though it’s mostly a one-sided conversation?

  And I didn’t like the way he called me darling. It rolled off his lips with a little too much finesse. “You were in the closet first! Don’t go judging me.”

  He held up the bottle of champagne. “My friend is real.”

  My mind zigzagged from one thought to another, not sure what to make of the man or my current situation. My mind settled on one useless question. “You fought a bear?”

  “Not exactly.”

  I was suddenly disappointed the mysterious man didn’t have a good bear story to go with his rugged appearance and downright dirty voice. “So, no bear?”

  “No.” He tilted the edge of his lips as if the memory was comical now. “There was a mountain lion, but I didn’t fight it. I fought the mountain it pushed me off of.”

  “Wow. And I thought my week sucked.” I sank down onto an upside-down bucket, partially for stability, and because I genuinely wanted to hide at least for a little longer. I felt like perhaps inside the dark closet I could hold off tomorrow from ever coming.

  The man held the bottle out to me. “To shitty weeks.”

  I accepted the champagne and took a swig. It’s not like I’m finding any great ideas to end my unemployment status tonight. The bubbles tickled down my throat, and I swallowed another sip of the sugary wine to ease the memory of Trey’s words.

  “More like a shitty few years, but yeah, I’ll drink to this past week.” I handed the bottle back. “So, tell me more about this mountain lion. I hope he was big, if not, you need to lie when you retell the tale.”

  The man snorted then tilted the bottle back for a sip before placing it back into my hand. “He was a she, and yes, the mountain lion was big enough. It’s also not a problem anymore,” he said with a rough tone as he squatted down in front of me. “I want to know why you need help.” He reached his hand up and feathered his thumb over my jaw. “What problems are chasing you? No bears or lions, I hope.”

  The gentleness of the movement shocked me, but more, was my reaction to it. I didn’t want to pull away. His touch was so warm, it almost burned. My entire body lit up with one simple graze of his hand. I stilled, unsure of what to do.

  I’d always stayed clear of dating after Max. I didn’t want to try again with someone else for a long list of reasons. The main one being, I’d never felt the rush of attraction I needed to push me toward someone. Anyone. At All.

  But in this poorly lit stockroom at midnight, in a town where no one knew me except for Lena and Jake, this stranger enticed me to lean into his hand. To not pull away. Maybe it was because I’d never see him again, or the fact he was by far one of the most alluring men I’d ever met despite his contusions.

  I wouldn’t have to worry if this man would learn my past, or get sucked into the vortex of pain circling my life.

  I peered into his blue eyes—the kind that reminded me of the river before it freezes for the winter. And I convinced myself I’d never see him again.

  What could it hurt?

  He was drunk and probably wouldn’t remember this night, or me. “You want to help?” I asked.

  The man searched my face. “You have to tell me the problem first.”

  I whispered, “I don’t remember what it’s like to kiss someone.” It was the most pathetic admission. While not top on my list of life complications, it was devastating enough to continue to grow in rank as the months passed.

  His expression didn’t change when I tilted back to see if I’d run him out of the room yet. He gently brushed his scraped knuckles down the side of my cheek. “Any other problems?”

  His thumb outlined my bottom lip while his eyes searched mine. I don’t know what he hoped to find. I couldn’t tell him everything in my life was a failure, so I spoke a half-truth, wishing it was whole. “I can’t remember the rest because I want you to kiss me.”

  He arched his eyebrows. “Did someone put you up to this?”

  He thinks I’m joking? Great. My best attempt to entice a man into me, and he thinks I’m part of some charade to get him fired. “Nope. That was my failed attempt to flirt. Wow. Good thing nobody else had to see that crash and burn, huh? I should’ve started with the bartender. He seemed a bit more amiable to a fixer-upper. You’re too pretty, anyways.” I stood up, only swaying slightly, while readying myself to bolt. “I’m just going to grab the rest of that bottle, and I’ll be on my way.” I leaned over to seize the half-empty champagne from the shelf.

  But the man pushed the bottle back, out of my reach. “How drunk are you?”

  “Wishing I was more.” I tried to jump for the bottle.

  “Hmm,” he sighed, wrapping his arm around my waist to prevent me from toppling onto the floor. “You’re one hell of a crash and burn.” He tugged my back against his massive torso, removing me from the shelf. “No more wine for you, hellion.”

  I stilled under the immediate need that wrenched through my body. The need to touch this stranger. I avoided turning into his hard chest. If
I didn’t move, maybe I could make it out without further damage. I fought every desire to lean into his hold.

  “Don’t tell me what to do.”

  “I’m not.” He turned me in his arms. “I’m doing what you wanted me to do.” He spurred his opposite hand through my hair. “I hope this helps the both of us.” He dipped his head, lightly caressing his lips over mine. The sweet taste of wine mixed with his spicy male flavor. Dark and sweet, and so warm I felt his kiss down to my toes.

  I pulled him against me, frantically pressing my mouth against his. I had to make this count. Who knew when I’d do this again? Probably another decade at my romance rate.

  In an instant his hands changed from carefully cradling my head to pressing me against him. He sipped greedily at my lips like I did his. His mouth teased and played against mine, giving me just enough to make me crave more.

  I sighed and slid my tongue against the seam of his lips. Running my hands up his chest, I realized there wasn’t a soft part of this man. I needed this. Just a few more minutes. I arched up against him, trying to feel every part of him through my silk dress.

  The door banged open with a thud.

  I stumbled backward at the abrupt force in which the man yanked himself away from me. He was on the opposite end of the closet before I could even blink.

  When the shock faded from the waitress’s face, a small smile pursed her lips. “Paper towels, please?”

  The man didn’t miss a beat—he reached behind my head and handed two rolls to the waitress like he was restocking the cabinets instead of suckling my tongue with his mouth only seconds ago. “Be out in just a minute.” He shut the door and turned to me. “I have to go—”

  “Right. Of course.” I felt like I’d been on fire and now I took a giant plunge into the Puget Sound in December. I didn’t think I could sink any lower until this exact moment in time. I begged a drunk waiter who clearly didn’t excel at his job to make out with me mid-shift at Lena’s wedding. I fixed the fallen strap on my dress and dashed out into the reception. I didn’t turn my head to look back at the man. I was too mortified someone might notice us both coming from the stockroom. And then they’d know what I’d done.