Keegan (Wounded Hero Book 1)

by Marysol James

  “Oh!” She looked startled. “No! I mean… I wasn’t expecting –”

  “Just teasin’ you,” he said gently as he pulled another bag from his outer pocket and handed it to her. “Might have got a bit smushed but they’ll taste the same, huh?”

  “I – Mr. Sinclair –”

  “Keegan.” He nodded at the bag. “Go on, now. Tell me if you like ‘em.”

  Nora did as he said, then looked up at him quickly. “Raspberry crumble squares?”

  “You know it.”

  “Oh, my goodness. Thank you.”

  “My pleasure, all of it.” He looked over at Trish. “I figure if I’m gonna steal this wonderful woman away from you for a little while, I’d better come bearin’ gifts.”

  “Well, these will certainly help the evening pass very pleasurably,” Meredith said. “You’re a very gifted baker, Keegan. These things are called the culinary arts for a reason.”

  “Awww, I dunno. I just throw some flour around and see what happens.” Keegan ran a hand through his dark hair. “Mostly good stuff comes out and thank God, ‘cause if it came out bad, who’d eat it? I’d be out of work double-time.”

  “I’ll keep your business in mind for my next ladies’ luncheon,” Meredith said. “We’re planning several meetings about Christmas fundraising at the hospital. Trish says that you do sandwiches and so on?”

  “Yep. Salads too and of course, desserts.”

  “Perfect. Have you got a card?”

  “Uhhhh. Hmmm.” Keegan patted his pockets, stared into his wallet. “I don’t right now. I’m sorry. I usually carry a few.”

  “Well, no matter.” Meredith gave him a big smile and Trish marveled how it made her look twenty years younger. “Trish has your contact information.”

  “She does.”

  “Well,” Meredith said briskly. “You young people should be off, I think. Dinner plans await.”

  “And dancin’.” Keegan held his hand out to Trish and she took it, her heart in her throat. “You’ll take everyone’s breath away, sugar. You look like a walkin’ dream.”

  Trish bushed furiously as all three of them looked at her approvingly. What the actual hell was happening to her, where a bit of scrutiny while she was fully-clothed was making her feel embarrassed and fidgety? There’d been a time not so long ago when she’d been totally brazen and blasé about being totally naked in front of a room of people, totally fine having full-on sex with an audience standing around, and knowing that it was all going to end up on the internet for public consumption. So why – just why? – was she feeling so exposed lately and in a way that she’d never experienced before?

  “Anyway,” she said, desperate to distract them. “I guess we should go?”

  “We should,” Keegan agreed. “Our reservation’s for eight-thirty and we can be about ten minutes late, but no more than that.”

  “Off you go then,” Meredith ordered them. “Have a wonderful time.”

  “Thanks, Meredith,” Trish said shyly. “And I just remembered that I left your night cream in the second-floor bathroom this morning when I was cleaning. Should I –”

  “You should not,” Nora interjected. “I’ll see to everything. Scoot.”

  “OK,” Trish said. “Have a good night. I’ll see you tomorrow morning at seven for breakfast, Meredith. Leave me a note before you go to bed, telling me what you’d like to eat and I’ll make it for you then get you up.”

  “I do think that mint chocolate chip cookies are perfect for breakfast,” Meredith announced. “They go so well with coffee, don’t they Keegan?”

  “They do.”

  “I’ll defer to your expertise, then. So Trish – cookies and coffee at eight, please. Sleep in a bit.”

  “Oh, well. Thank you.” Trish blinked. “That’s about the easiest breakfast that I’ll ever make in my life.”

  “I don’t want to tax you tomorrow,” Meredith said serenely but with a glint in her blue eyes. “You might be… weary.”

  “Meredith,” Trish muttered, feeling like she was saying Mooooooom. “I won’t be out all night, I already told you that.”

  “I know. I’m just enjoying teasing you.” Meredith looked up at Keegan, seemed to briefly hesitate about something, then she said, “Keegan?”

  “Ma’am?”

  “Thank you for your service to our country. I know – Trish told us what you lost out there in that desert and I know that it’s the kind of thing that takes hard work to move beyond. It was a sacrifice and I’m sure that sometimes you wonder if it was worth it, in this modern age of people who think that not getting enough ‘likes’ on social media is a hardship, and people who squander their freedoms by spray-painting over poems on college campuses and behaving as though they’re gaining something in terms of power. But I wanted to tell you – there are some of us living in this country who know what you did and who appreciate it with all of our hearts. We thank you for it.”

  Keegan was silent for a minute, then he said, “Trish says that your husband was in Iraq in the earliest days.”

  “Gareth. Yes. Most from his social class and our circle of friends opted out – the Lord knows that his family had more money than God himself – but he felt the pull to go and do what he thought was right. He was a surgeon and even though he wasn’t directly on the field of battle much, he still came back to me – changed. Better in some ways, worse in others. But I was proud of him until the day he died for the choice that he made.”

  “I’m sorry that you lost him. It was… twelve years ago now?”

  “Fourteen. He was seventy-nine when he passed and he died in his sleep.” Meredith’s eyes softly glowing with tears. “I love living a long life, Keegan, believe me… but as I look forward to my eighty-sixth Christmas on this wonderful earth, I do find myself also looking forward to seeing him again. We have so much to talk about.”

  “That you do.” Keegan looked at her with a smile and she returned it. “That you do.”

  **

  Keegan pulled Trish’s chair out and watched as she sat like a queen on her throne. God, the woman had such in-built grace and style, he was a bit in awe of her. He didn’t think she knew it, though, didn’t see how naturally radiant and stunning she was. He hurried around to his side of the table and plunked himself down, eager to stare at her unapologetically.

  Trish was looking oddly nervous and he watched as she looked around the room, hesitated as a few men looked at her with interest, then ducked her head so her hair swung in front of her face, covered her up. She looked – what?

  Self-conscious. Like she was trying to…

  Hide?

  Is she embarrassed to be seen with me?

  Keegan didn’t think so, but he had to admit that she was giving off every appearance of a woman trying to be unnoticeable, unremarked, unseen.

  Why?

  “You OK?” he asked her in a low voice. “You want to move tables?”

  “What?” She gazed at him, clearly discomfited, her eyes the gray-blue of storm clouds. “No… I mean – no. Why? Do you want to move?”

  “No way, darlin’. I want the whole damn room to see that I’m with the most beautiful woman in the place.” He kept his eyes nailed on her face as he spoke, reading her reaction. “But if you ain’t comfortable with bein’ the focus smack in the middle of the restaurant, you say so.”

  “I –” She looked around again and saw that people had gone back to their dinners and conversations; the sight seemed to relieve her. “No, I’m OK. This is a great table.”

  “You sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  The waiter approached now and handed over the menus. He asked about drinks and Trish smiled at Keegan, her eyes so purple in that amazing dress, his heart ached just a bit. God, she was so vulnerable somehow, so feminine and delicate and he felt his natural protectiveness rear its head again. He was damn sure that she came from a tough background and so she was no shrinking, weak little violet, but still – she looked like s
he needed a few breaks.

  He’d do a lot to help her get a few. Starting with giving her a nice night out, no pressure and no expectations. Just getting to know her better, getting her to open up a bit, because as of this moment, Keegan knew very little about her really, while he’d blabbed like a drunk chick for their whole damn coffee date.

  “I’m not up on wine,” she told him. “I like white and that’s all I know – so you get to decide on the bottle.”

  “Challenge accepted, sugar,” he said then turned to the waiter. “What white wine do you suggest?”

  “Hey!” Trish protested teasingly. “Enlisting expert help is kinda cheating.”

  “Is it cheatin’?” he asked the amused waiter. “Askin’ for expert help?”

  “Not even slightly, sir,” he answered. “It’s actually quite smart.”

  “See?” Keegan said to Trish. “I’m bein’ smart.”

  She rolled her eyes and he grinned at her, liking how much more relaxed she was now. “Now you’re bein’ smart, darlin’. Like a smart-ass kinda smart.”

  “It’s my usual speed.”

  “I’ve noticed.” Keegan returned his attention to the patient waiter. “OK, so – recommendations? Maybe two?”

  “If you like sweet wine, then the Moscato is very nice, sir. If you prefer something more crisp or dry, then the Sauvignon Blanc is ideal.”

  “What do you like better?” he asked Trish. “Sweet or dry?”

  “Sweet,” she said immediately. “I like sweet things.”

  “Good damn thing that I’m a baker then, huh?” he said cheerfully. “I’m practically drownin’ in sugar and honey, all day and every day.”

  “It really, really is. You do know that I’m just after your cookies?”

  “My cookies are all yours,” he growled. “And anythin’ else you want.”

  Much to his delight, she blushed and the waiter huffed out a small laugh. Keegan looked up at him and said, “So, you heard the lady: sweet it is, please.”

  “Very good, sir. I’ll be back soon to take your food order.”

  They read their menus in silence for a minute, then Keegan said, “Steak for me and no doubt. What are you in the mood for, darlin’?”

  “Ummm. I’m kinda torn between the salmon tagliatelle and the stuffed chicken breast.”

  “Get both.”

  She stared at him in astonishment. “What? How much do you think that I can get into my mouth?”

  He raised his eyebrows and she blushed.

  “That was not a loaded question,” she protested, then blushed again as she thought of the many meanings of the word ‘loaded’. “And that wasn’t a double meaning.”

  “No idea what you’re talkin’ about,” he said airily. “Just sayin’ that you can take anythin’ you don’t want home.”

  “Well,” she said looking down at the menu again. “The prices are pretty steep…”

  “Look sugar, I got problems and worries just like anyone, but money ain’t one of ‘em. You get anythin’ and everythin’ you want and don’t worry about the tab. OK?”

  “But –” She began and then paused. “But I don’t want you thinking that –”

  “That what?”

  “That I’m –” She looked around again and dropped her voice. “That I’m a gold digger.”

  “A –” He stared at her in utter astonishment, then he threw back his head and laughed. “If you were a gold digger you’d be hittin’ Meredith up for all her husband’s rich-ass friends’ son’s names. Maybe the friends’ names too, I dunno how stuff like this works, but I’m guessin’ that a thirty-four-year-old gold diggin’ woman ain’t gonna say no to an eighty-somethin’-year-old man with money and one foot in the damn grave, huh?”

  “Uh” She blinked, clearly taken aback at his usual gruff, no-nonsense way of talking. “I guess not.”

  “So.” He gestured at the menu. “What would you like?”

  “The pasta, please. Just the pasta.”

  “Sure now?”

  “Positive.”

  “OK, darlin’. Sweet white wine and pasta it is.”

  After placing their order with the waiter, Keegan leaned back in his chair and sipped his wine, gazed at Trish. She was looking around again and that nervous edge was back to her, that sense of her wanting to curl up inside herself. He cocked his head, wondered how to get to know this woman without using his usual ‘bull in a china shop’ approach to life: Keegan tended to just say what the hell was on his mind and though that had its advantages – one being that it cut the bullshit to a minimum – it didn’t always work with skittish females.

  OK, so… gently, man. Try it for a nice change.

  “So, Trish,” he said and she snapped those amazing eyes back to his face. “Where you from, darlin’?”

  “Uh… Maine.” She took a sip of wine. “I told you and Kelly that, right?”

  “You did. But I was thinkin’ more – what’s your family like?”

  “Oh.” She sighed and fiddled with her cutlery. Right away, he was on red alert: whenever Trish fussed and fidgeted with her hands, something was on her mind. It was her tell and it was a big one. “Well – my family’s nothing like yours.” She gave a hollow laugh. “Not even a little bit.”

  “OK,” he said calmly. “What’s that mean?”

  “Well, it means… it’s pretty obvious that you’re from a close family. Soldier Dad that you admire and take after, stay-at-home Mom who taught you to cook and bake, twin sister who you play-fight with like crazy but clearly adore, little niece who you spend time with and who gives you business pointers. Hell, Kelly even gets along with her ex and not just for Janie’s sake – she actually likes and respects the man even though they aren’t together anymore. It’s just…” She shrugged. “You’re from a normal family that likes each other and spends time together by choice, and always tries to make it work, whatever it is..”

  “Yeah.” He looked at her carefully. “But you’re not?”

  “I couldn’t get away from Maine fast enough.”

  “I’m real sorry to hear that.”

  “Yeah, I was sorry but I’m not now. I’m not saying that it’s right or wrong that I left at seventeen and never went back – what I am saying is sometimes, leaving is the only way to survive.”

  “I hear that.”

  “You do?”

  “I do. Some of the guys in my support group – they’ve had to leave situations that were hurtin’ ‘em. Some of those situations involved family.”

  “That’s tough. Losing a limb or being permanently physically changed, and then maybe losing family too.”

  “Loss ain’t easy for anyone ever, no matter what we’re talkin’ about having lost.”

  “No. I guess not.”

  “Look, Trish.” Keegan spoke quietly but the force of his words carried straight over the table to her. “You said that you got things in your past that you ain’t told me. I respect that and I promise you that it’s true. But can I just ask – do any of the things that you don’t find it easy to talk about have to do with your family back in Maine?”

  She paused and he waited, knowing that this was not the moment to push her. Finally she took a sip of wine and said:

  “Lots of them do, yeah. The thing is… well. You’ve been so open and honest with me about – about what happened to you.”

  “You can say it, sugar. You can use the words.” He gave her a grin and tapped his left boot on the floor. “I know that my leg ain’t there. It ain’t no surprise or newsflash to me.”

  “I’m sorry. Of course.”

  “No bein’ sorry. It’s all new to you and I get that, but just never feel like you gotta mince words or tiptoe around about me missin’ a leg. It’s my world and my reality, and I speak about it openly. You should too.”

  “OK.” Trish brushed her hair back off her curved cheekbones. “So – you’ve been so open and honest with me about losing your leg and how it all happened. You’ve told me about how
angry and confused you were when you came home, and how you found your way into your business. And I guess I just feel like – I don’t know.”

  “You don’t owe me any honesty and truth, if that’s what you’re thinkin’.”

  She started. “How – how did you –”

  “‘Cause I’m fuckin’ brilliant, darlin’.”

  She laughed, but a bit uncertainly.

  “Trish. Look at me.”

  She lifted her chin to meet his eyes and right away, her tense, tight face softened and those eyes turned a dreamy, sweet bright blue. Keegan tilted his head to take her in fully, to just drink her in like a parched man in the desert, because goddamn if this woman wasn’t it.

  No, he didn’t know her well. No, she hadn’t seen him naked and reacted to his stump. No, he didn’t know her whole back story and if tonight had shown him anything, it was that wherever she came from, it was a painful place. No, she hadn’t leveled with him yet, he hadn’t won her trust that way.

  But she was here, in her gorgeous purple dress and strappy high heels. She was cagey and cautious, but she was opening up, even just a bit. Best of all, she was looking at him like he was a man that she’d like to be closer to: emotionally and physically.

  Right this second, she was looking at him like she wanted to rip his clothes off – and that was good and fine with Keegan.

  First, though, the trust. The openness. The honesty.

  If he got all of that from Trish, then everything else would follow. Every single hot, steamy, filthy, amazing thing that he could imagine.

  Hopefully.

  “Listen baby,” he said, the endearment just falling out of his mouth so easily, so naturally. “I’m honest with you because I’ve done all my hard work already. It’s no big deal for me to talk to you about my leg and other women not wantin’ me because I’m past all of it, mostly. If you’d met me even two years ago, it’d all be different, believe me. People come to terms with stuff when they’re ready to and before then, they keep it to themselves. That’s the deal and that’s fuckin’ life. No rushin’ and no pushin’. Not from me to you, and not to you from yourself. I ain’t askin’ for what you ain’t ready to share, and I sure as hell ain’t expectin’ nothin’ in return for dinner. Not sex, not information, not anythin’ you want to hold close to your own chest and heart. We clear?”