by Tawny Weber
“A prisoner,” he admitted. “But off the books.”
“It was bad.” Her careful statement said it all.
“Parts of it sucked.” Most of it. “There were okay moments, too. It wasn’t all bad, other than being separated from my team, knowing they were fighting without me. You could hear the mullahs wailing calls to prayer. Sometimes, the guards brought us tea. Plus, there were those blissful moments when shit had almost not hurt.”
“You weren’t the only prisoner?”
“That was one of the bad parts. The insurgents had a whole bunch of us, a couple of Europeans and at least one other American. They kept us pretty isolated, but we figured out how to communicate through the walls, and sometimes they paired us up.”
He’d been the only one to walk away, as far as he knew, and he’d bet that his former captives had vented their rage on the men he’d had to leave behind. They’d all been in different cells that night, and he’d had no way to reach them. He’d have wanted them to go without him. He knew that. But the reality of being the one to walk away sucked. He’d spent days debriefing, hoping that something he’d noticed or said would help Uncle Sam’s boys find the other prisoners. Knowing, however, that they’d have been moved immediately because Kade had compromised their location.
”Why can’t you sleep?” She was tenacious. He’d give her that.
“You’re not going to leave that alone, are you?”
“I could be convinced.” She ran her hand lightly over his chest, tangling her fingers in his dog tags. He drew her feet up, rubbing them in his hands. Cold feet he could fix.
She sighed. “Do you ever feel guilty?”
He dropped a kiss on her forehead. The move was stupid. Sappy even. But carpe diem, right? “I’d go back and fight in a heartbeat.” Fuck. He was all choked up, just sitting here on Abbie’s front porch.
“Me too,” she said. “For Will.”
He tightened his hold on her because, really, what was there to say? He’d go back for Will, too, and so would Abbie. Since neither of them could, however, they’d have to settle for sitting on her front porch and watching the sky slowly lighten as the sun crept closer and closer to the horizon.
Something moved beneath his hand. Someone. A little ripple, kind of like Abbie had a miniature alligator swimming beneath her skin, and the thing had just popped its head up to take a look. Another bump. Another delicate flutter.
She really did have a baby inside her. He’d known that, of course, but feeling the baby was a whole different thing.
“Wow,” he said, giving up on being smooth or even vaguely articulate.
“Someone else is awake,” she said softly.
Her fingers covered his and who knew? Sitting there like that, together, was the best damned thing he’d done in a long time.
Chapter 12
That weekend Kade was parked on a firehouse bunk bed, waiting for an emergency call that probably wouldn’t come. Wishing a fire on someone sucked, he reminded himself. Good guys—decent guys—were thrilled if the weekend was slow and devoid of all action. Yeah. He sucked. Hanging around the firehouse with the guys was boring, all wait and no do. Wildland firefighting got his vote every time. When he worked with Donovan Brothers, he used his ass for parachuting, not sitting. And, bonus points, a forest fire was a nice big impersonal flaming inferno that usually ate up trees instead of people’s personal lives and homes.
The Strong firehouse had a second story that stretched the length of the station. Bunk beds lined two of the walls, and there was a minikitchen and a big screen TV. As places to wait went, Kade had passed time in far worse. He had no business complaining, even if the noise level approximated that of a dance club in the middle of a freeway. Where the locals were also setting off TNT blasts on the shoulder.
When had he gone to bed and woken up an old fart? A couple of years ago, he’d have been wrestling for control of the Wii or trading creative insults with the group raiding the fridge. Yep. He’d officially fallen off the edge of “young and crazy” and landed firmly in “ready for middle age and a minivan” territory. The worst thing was, he didn’t mind.
A large hand smacked the back of his head. “You okay? You’re looking peaky.”
Okay. Maybe he wasn’t so old, because he drove his elbow backward into Grady Brogan’s midsection. Grady cursed and returned the favor with a noogie. Since Grady had singlehandedly led Cal State Fullerton to multiple wrestling victories, Kade didn’t stand a chance of hell of breaking free of the headlock.
When Grady finally let go, Kade turned the page in his book. He probably should have bought the ebook version, but he’d borrowed this from Gia Donovan. Or, more accurately, he’d pilfered it from Rio Donovan’s desk when Kade had swung by the smoke jumping hangar on Thursday to see when he could rejoin the team. Which had been yesterday. The visit had gone okay. Rio had agreed he could join the training jumps and they’d take it from there. That wasn’t an unconditional welcome back to the team, but it was a start.
He turned the next page and studied the diagram. Whoa. Female reproductive organs were a whole lot less sexy in black and white. Squeezing a baby out through that teeny tiny exit also seemed like an anatomical impossibility. Jesus, but he was glad to be a guy.
Grady wandered back, shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “Whatcha reading?”
“A book.” He definitely should have gone with the ebook.
Grady tugged. Kade held on. “What is this? Second grade?”
Grady twisted, trying to reading the title. Yeah. He’d left himself wide open for what was coming next.
“What to Expect When You’re Expecting.” For a moment, Grady looked blank, but then an evil grin spread over his face. “Congratulations, Jordan. You’re pregnant.”
Despite the movie night, three competing music sound tracks, and the assorted beeping and vibrating sounds of half the contents of Best Buy, every head in the firehouse turned and lasered in on Kade. Shit.
Someone grabbed for his T-shirt, and a playful wrestling competition ensued. Kade lost when Grady pinned his legs and two other guys got his arms. His T-shirt flew up.
“You’re not showing yet.” Damned if Grady didn’t sound almost disappointed.
“I’m feeling violated. Fuck off.” He bucked, but Grady didn’t budge.
Grady patted Kade’s stomach. “Someone needs to explain the birds and the bees to Jordan.”
“Maybe he’s expecting twins.” An unidentified someone elbowed him in the stomach. Kade was almost certain it was an accident.
He shoved, and when they let him up, he held out his hand for the book. It sailed through the air and smacked onto the floor beside him.
Ten faces looked expectantly at him. “Story time!” Grady crowed.
This wasn’t second grade. It was kindergarten. Dammit. He and Abbie hadn’t talked about taking their relationship public. Mostly because he didn’t know what to call it. He was her booty call and her loaner guy. He was also, he hoped, something more, but they definitely hadn’t put words on what they were doing.
“If Abbie needs anything, I’ll be ready.” The pin-drop silence that followed his announcement lasted for approximately three second before all hell broke loose again.
“You want to reserve the ambulance?”
“Does Laura Jo know you’re planning a home birth?”
There was a collective shudder at that one, and all gazes skewed to the empty bunk Laura Jo usually occupied when she hung out at the firehouse. She’d gone up to Reno for a bachelorette party, taking Abbie with her. Logically, Kade knew Abbie’s girls would have her back, and so he hadn’t said anything. Plus she’d have killed him, and he really liked living right now. But shit happened. He was living, walking proof of that, and he’d feel better when she came back on Monday and he could see for himself that she was fine.
“Laura Jo’s going to have questions,” Grady crowed.
That elicited frowns from the assembled firefighters. Kade m
ight be the new guy, but he understood the rules. No one upset Laura Jo.
“It’s my inner Boy Scout,” he said mildly. “If there’s a problem, I’ll be ready to fix it.”
Reading up on the whole childbirth thing had seemed prudent. His limited medical training in the military had prepared him to catch the baby in an emergency, but the parts before and after were a black box.
Grady nodded slowly. “You can learn everything you need from a book?”
“You see a live model around here?” He slapped Grady on the shoulder.
As it turned out, Luke had two kids under the age of five, so he had plenty of opinions of the childbirth variety. He also liked to tell stories, so once he got started, it was hard to stop him. No worries. Any intel from the frontlines was good in Kade’s book. He started making lists on his iPhone. He needed to keep the truck gassed up and ready to go. A suitcase. Tennis balls. Jesus. He might as well pack the contents of Walmart into his truck bed, just in case they got stuck somewhere between Strong and the hospital and they had to pull a Jesus, Mary, and Joseph number and give birth in a stable.
When Luke finally ran out of horror stories, Grady summed up what every guy in the room had to be thinking. “So you think she’d call you if she had a problem?”
He shrugged. “No idea.”
A miracle. Naked privileges. Hell, maybe she’d value his EMT training. Pick one or pick them all, but he didn’t care why Abbie called. He just wanted her to lean on him a little, need him a little.
Evasion didn’t fly with Grady. “Hypothesize.”
“Maybe I drive better,” he said mildly. He’d ridden shotgun while Laura Jo drove. She got the job done, but NASCAR races proceeded at a slower pace. It was a miracle her patients didn’t have heart attacks from the speediness of their trips to the hospital. That must have resonated with Grady, because the other man nodded slowly.
Luke narrowed his eyes. “Are you seeing her?”
Kade didn’t give a rat’s ass about what other people thought. This thing, whatever it was, was between him and Abbie. They had smoking hot sex. He changed her lightbulbs and unclogged her drains. He did all the stuff she’d used Will for. He was a substitute husband without any of the emotions, and that was fine with him.
“We’re not dating,” he said, shoving his fists into the pockets of his jeans. Punching Luke wouldn’t help.
“Gotcha.” Luke looked thoughtful. “Do you want to be?”
And that right there was the question, wasn’t it?
“Not my call,” he said, evading the question, but he was afraid he already knew the answer to the question. It was a resounding hell, yeah. And that was the problem right there.
Katie Lawson pointed a finger in Abbie’s direction. “You’ve been holding out on us. Spill.”
The gesture would have been more authoritative if Katie hadn’t been sporting a bedazzled headband with a shoulder-length tulle veil. Sequins were not daywear.
Someone not too far away hit a jackpot on the casino floor, the winning slot machine announcing the triumph. Abbie wasn’t sure whose idea the weekend bachelorette party had been, but rooms had been booked and a limo rented. When Abbie had made the mistake of wondering out loud if her presence would be a drag on the festivities, Katie had simply patted her on the shoulder and asked “Are you going to wear black and channel your inner Morticia Addams? Pop the baby out early on the casino floor?”
Since the answers to Katie’s questions were a resounding hell no, here Abbie was, with a suitcase full of clubbing clothes she could barely squeeze into, a virgin margarita, and the beginnings of a smile.
Laura Jo looked up from her margarita pouring. Her glass of lime-green salty goodness was more tequila than not. Fortunately, the tortilla chips weren’t off-limits. “Are we finding out what she’s been doing when she stood us up for the past two girls’ nights out?”
Faye grinned. She’d also passed on the margarita fun, so she was probably riding the baby train a few months behind Abbie. “I think we are.”
“Gonna find out who’s naughty and nice.” Laura Jo winked. “I’ll hold her down, and the rest of you tickle her until she tells all.”
Thank God there were some things unlikely to happen in public. “I’m more likely to pee on you.”
It wasn’t an idle threat. The bigger Baby got, the more time she seemed to spend in the bathroom. Or running to the bathroom, finding a bathroom, or planning her next trip to the bathroom.
“TMI.” Katie mock shuddered, while Laura Jo flashed a thumbs-up.
“You don’t think she’s been up to something?”
“Oh, I know she has,” Laura Jo said. “Just not something she was planning on sharing with the group.”
Katie exhaled. “Are you okay?”
Which was code for I kind of dragged you here, so make me feel better about my decision. She was here on a girls’ weekend in Reno, wasn’t she? How much more fine could she get?
“She’s seeing someone,” Faye said. “That’s my guess.”
Three heads turned to stare at her. And dammit, her cheeks were bright red. She hadn’t been that pink since she’d first experimented with blush in the fifth grade. Her seeing Kade wasn’t precisely a secret, but they hadn’t discussed taking their relationship public either. Or their repeat nonrelationship, as it was. She opted to skirt the truth.
“Kade and I have a thing.”
“Define thing.” As usual, Laura was the designated spokeswoman for their group. Probably, Abbie thought, because the woman possessed no verbal filters. If she thought it, she said it.
“He started coming by to check on me,” she said, staring pointedly at Katie.
“He meant well,” Katie said weakly, emptying her margarita glass.
“Uh-huh. He was sent.”
Katie eyed her glass, like maybe more alcohol or magic refills could get her out of this. “That too. He owed me, so I collected.”
“I don’t like being a favor.”
Katie winced. “Let the record show I had good intentions?”
“Road to hell,” Laura Jo announced cheerfully. “Paved with good intentions and all that. We can get you one of those cross-stitch samplers for your wedding present.”
“He made me go fishing.”
“You said that was fun,” Laura Jo pointed out.
It had been. “The fun was the problem.”
“Not following.”
Abbie blew out a breath. “I liked spending time with Kade.”
“Again, still not seeing a problem.”
“And I was lonely.”
“You have all of us,” Katie pointed out, looking as confused as Laura Jo and Faye.
“I think what Abbie here is trying to say is that none of us has a penis.”
“Speak for yourself.” Faye grinned. “Although no one’s allowed to borrow mine. I have plans for my Mr. Donovan.”
Katie blew her a kiss. “You leave mine alone, and I’ll leave yours alone.” To Abbie, she asked, “You and Kade are dating again?”
“We’re not dating,” Abbie insisted. So what if she didn’t know what to call their relationship? “We’re just friends. With benefits.”
“She worked around the penis problem,” Laura Jo observed. “Apparently Kade is more obliging than we knew.”
“I feel like a pimp.” Katie groaned, dropping her head onto the table. Yikes. Abbie was fairly certain she could see strands of Katie’s hair getting stuck in the caked-on gunk decorating the tabletop. Basic hygiene standards required more cash flow than a place serving dollar margaritas generated.
“You can’t tell a guy to hang out with a single gal and expect him to keep things platonic. It’s not in his makeup. He’ll start to wonder if she finds him attractive or what she looks like naked. Then he’ll starting plotting ways to get her naked so he can confirm or deny his hypothesis.”
“True story?” Katie raised her head, looking hopeful. “I’m not in the dog house?”
“He wa
s unbecomingly reluctant.” She might as well put it all out there.
Laura Jo poured herself another drink and flagged down the waiter, who looked unhappy at the signal. If she’d had to make a living serving dollar drinks, she’d have felt the same way. “You can’t drink, but this calls for fried doughnuts.”
The casino restaurant’s flagship dessert was fried doughnuts presented on something that looked rather like a Lucite earring rack. As an added bonus, said doughnuts came with dipping sauces. Abbie had eaten her weight in doughnuts last night, and tonight was shaping up to be a rinse and repeat. If she couldn’t drink her calories, she’d chew them.
Order placed, Laura Jo got back to business. “You and Kade, huh?”
“We’re friends.”
“Who are having sex,” Katie pointed out. “Kade and I are friends, and we’re not going to bed together.”
“Do you mind?” Even if their engagement had been more of a joke, and Katie was about to marry Tye, maybe Abbie had horned in where she shouldn’t have.
Katie waggled her fingers. As the designated sober person, Abbie should probably cut her off. “No. He’s all yours.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Faye made a face. “You haven’t been widowed for all that long, and you’ve got a baby on the way. I know things can get lonely and Kade’s a hottie, but…” She trailed off, looking uncomfortable.
This, Abbie decided, was why she and Kade hadn’t gone public. Their peanut gallery had too many opinions. “But?”
“But maybe it’s too soon. Maybe you should wait a little longer before jumping back into the dating pool.”
No one else at the table jumped in with a counterargument. Instead, there was a whole lot of margarita slurping and rummaging in the chip basket. Right. She got the message.
“Sex does not a relationship make,” she pointed out. “We’re just taking advantage of each other.”
Did the guys at the firehouse subject Kade this kind of inquisition? Granted, Kade had never expressed the slightest interest in a relationship. Sex, yes. Swapping secret fantasies, possibly. But roses are red, violets are blue sentiments? Yeah. He’d avoided that.