by Tawny Weber
Sam called. He'd found a new site for the shelter, and security was a top concern. Sam wondered if Will could look the place over, get a security plan in place, before Sam began planning or actually renovating the property.
It made perfect sense, would likely save time and money for the shelter, Will knew. It was also the perfect excuse.
He could go home.
See her.
After what had felt like an eternity.
He couldn't begin to understand the flood of feelings that rushed through him at the thought. If he didn't know better, he'd say it was something like absolute joy.
Something like that because Will didn't think he'd ever felt absolute joy in his life.
His early days of SEAL training had certainly been special. He'd felt a deep sense of satisfaction when he got his orders to report to Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL training; when the instructors said those blessed words "Hell Week is secured!" which meant it was over; and when he finally got a SEAL trident pounded into his chest by his new teammates, a SEAL tradition. He was happy in the teams, relieved and proud about any number of missions he'd accomplished.
But joy?
Had he ever felt absolute joy?
Now that he was feeling something close to it, he didn't quite know how to handle it. He felt odd, a little uneasy. He tried not to ever feel too much of anything. He'd learned early on that if you didn't feel too much, you didn't hurt that much. You never got that scared. You didn't get that angry. It was better all around not to feel too much of any emotion.
"So, you'll call when you know what time your plane gets in?" Sam asked.
"Yeah," Will said, even as he wondered if this was a good idea.
Sam waited a long time. Will already knew what was coming when Sam finally said, "You're really not going to ask?"
"You'd have told me if she wasn't okay," Will said carefully.
"Yeah, I would have."
"So... she's okay?"
"Is that a question, Will?"
Shit!
This was the moment Sam picked to turn close-mouthed?
Sam had the nerve to laugh. "It's not that big of a deal, right? You'll see for yourself soon enough."
Amanda felt like a kid on her birthday, or Christmas morning, or the last day of school. It was everything rolled into one glorious, giddy, happy feeling, all wrapped up in him.
Will was coming home!
She could have danced, right there in the kitchen at the shelter. She didn't care who saw her or what they thought.
She'd thought about picking him up from the airport, but that had gone so badly when she'd dropped him off, she resisted the urge. Although she could hardly wait to see him again.
She got to the shelter early that day, and answered the door every time the doorbell rang. Every time someone arrived who wasn't him, she was afraid she made the visitor feel unwelcome, just by the look on her face, even though she tried to hide her disappointment.
Venturing out of the house last weekend, she'd gone to three stores to find an outfit, trying desperately to look great, but not like she was trying too hard to impress him, which of course she was.
She'd settled on a nice pair of jeans and a simple white, scooped-neck top, because he went for that casual, California-girl look—he'd told her so—and because she thought the top showed off her collarbone and her neck, especially with how short she was wearing her hair now. She'd had it trimmed two days ago. She'd even sunned herself in the back yard the last few days, thinking she'd looked grey and pale and blah for too long.
With nothing but moisturizer on her face and a bit of face powder, her freckles showed through. Will had said he liked her freckles. Mascara and a rosy-pink lip gloss, thin gold-hoop earrings, and she was done.
Standing there waiting for him, Amanda decided she was happier than she'd been since the attack, happy in a way she hadn't been sure she'd ever be again.
It might take every bit of self-restraint she had not to throw herself into his arms the minute she saw him.
The doorbell rang one more time.
Amanda jumped up, her heart racing yet again. She got to the door, looked through the peephole as instructed to always do, and there was Sam, and another man she couldn't see well standing behind him!
Yes!
It took forever, it seemed, to undo the various locks on the door and the heavy metal screen door, and then there was Sam, walking in, and there behind him...
It wasn't Will.
Amanda had already taken a step toward the man—maybe she really had been about to throw herself into his arms—when the truth hit her. It wasn't Will!
She stopped, or tried to. It wasn't that easy, caught mid-step as she had been. She nearly tripped over her own two feet. Both Sam and the man who wasn't Will put out a hand to steady her. Non-Will even got a hand onto her forearm.
Quick reflexes, she decided.
Friend of Will's?
"Careful," the too-pretty, blond-haired man said with a big smile, appreciation and interest written across his face.
"Sorry. I just... sorry," she said, looking from him to Sam. Please tell me that coward of a man didn't do what I think he did.
"No problem," the man said.
"Amanda, this is Mace Daughtry," Sam said. "He works with Will. Mace, this is Amanda Warren, one of our volunteers."
Oh, he had. Will had done exactly that. Amanda hoped she had enough pride left not to cry. It was going to be close.
"Will got hung up with something, so he sent Mace," Sam said as kindly as possible.
"Don't worry. I taught him everything he knows about designing a security system. You're in much better hands with me," Mace said.
He obviously didn't lack in the confidence department.
Or in his blatant admiration of Amanda.
It wasn't obnoxious. It didn't make her uncomfortable. It just surprised her. Men tended to tiptoe around her these days, as though if they said boo, she'd crumple at their feet.
Mace seemed to be offering nothing but a happy, friendly invitation, as if to say, Come on. You know we'd have a great time together.
He was a nice-looking man, maybe a tad too nice-looking. It made a woman think he had to be a little too caught up in himself, probably spoiled by women his whole life, having them fall at his feet, certainly not dissolve into tears.
"Hi," Amanda said finally, maybe managing to smile while her heart ached. It felt too big inside her chest, heavy and bruised, like her cheekbone had been along with her huge black eye after Buhkai.
"I'm going to give Mace the grand tour," Sam said, "then take him over to the new building."
"Of course. Don't let me keep you," Amanda said.
Sam suggested starting at the side door, which seemed odd, since they'd just come in the front, until Amanda realized he was probably trying to give her some time to herself to get over the news that Will was not coming.
But as Sam took off toward the kitchen, Mace lingered for a moment, leaning in to whisper, "For what it's worth, I think he's an idiot."
As he straightened up, still grinning, Amanda tried her best not to ask, Really?
"Although, I'm not sorry at all to be here," he said. "And—fair warning—I intend to do everything I can to convince you that I'm a much better man than he is. Starting with the fact that I'm smart enough to be here."
Again, blatant appreciation beamed from him, coupled with a boyish charm that actually worked really well for him. If she hadn't been in love with Will, she'd have been flattered at the very least.
"You don't think I can convince you?" He feigned outrage, actually making her laugh when she wouldn't have thought anything could. "There you go, darlin'. Keep smiling. If nothing else, I'll tell him we had a great time together. It'll make him crazy."
"Really?" She couldn't resist asking this time.
Mace nodded. "In fact, you should have dinner with me. If I tell him I took you out on a date and kissed you goodnight when I left you at your d
oor, he'll probably be here by morning."
"You think so?"
"Darlin', I've known him for fifteen years. The guy's a mess. And you are every bit as gorgeous as he said you were. I swear, I'm much more fun than he is."
"I appreciate that. Really, I do," she said.
"You don't believe me?"
"I think you're trying to make me feel better, and it's very nice of you."
"Oh, darlin', you don't understand men at all," Mace said. "He's my friend, which means if you want him and he wants you, I'm not going to do anything to mess that up. But if he's too stupid or too much of a coward to come after you, I intend to be first in line at your front door when you two are done with each other."
Amanda laughed again. "That's very nice—"
"I'm not that nice," he proclaimed. "I mean, I know how to flatter a woman, but that's not what this is. Unless I'm making you uncomfortable. Just say the word, and I'm done. You and I will be the best of friends, nothing else. I was warned that I'd better treat you right, or I'm a dead man."
"So... you know who I am?"
He nodded, still smiling.
And then she realized... He worked with Will.
"Wait, are you the friend of Will's who helped get me out of Buhkai?"
And then all the flirting was gone, leaving nothing behind but a sincere smile. "I didn't do anything but make a few phone calls. Wish I could have done more."
"Will said he had a friend pulling together information for him so he knew as much as he could before he went into the school. That was you?"
Mace nodded.
"Thank you. Very much. If you're anything like Will, you wouldn't tell me half of what you did to help get me out of there—"
"No, really. I was on the phone and the computer. That's it. It was all Will. I wish I had been there to back him up. I told him he'd be an idiot to go in there alone, but he wouldn't listen to me. He was going to get you out or die trying."
Amanda nodded. "I thought it must have been like that."
"Aw, hell, I'm losing my touch. I'm supposed to be trying to impress you myself. Tell me you'll have dinner with me."
She hesitated, even though she was mad enough at Will to do it. She hadn't been alone with any man, other than her father, Will and a doctor or two since the attack. Did he expect her to get in a car alone with him? Could she do that?
"Hey, you think Will would have sent anybody here that he didn't trust with you?" Mace said. "I'll treat you like a best friend's little sister, promise, but we need to go out, and he needs to hear about it."
"All right. I'll go," Amanda said.
Mace was every bit as charming and flirtatious over dinner as he had been when they met, and Amanda actually felt comfortable with him, even alone in the car. He told her funny stories about growing up in Texas, the SEAL teams, his family and his former girlfriends, all of whom he claimed would swear to her that he was a great guy.
She even let him kiss her at the front door to her father's house, partly as a dare to herself to see if she could and not get scared, partly to see if it felt as wrong as she thought it would to kiss anyone but Will. Mace's hands were gentle at her waist, nothing but those hands and his mouth touching her, nothing to unduly alarm her, but it was a real kiss, not a peck on the cheek.
When he broke the kiss, he shook his head. "You can't think of anybody but him, can you?"
"No, I can't. I'm sorry. He did save my life."
"So, that's what it takes?" He laughed, easily.
"You're very sweet."
"That makes me sound like some gooey dessert. I'm a complete badass, with a tiny bit of a soft side, just enough to get women."
"I'll give you an excellent report, if any of your future dates want a reference."
"Thank you. Now, what do you want me to tell Will? I'll say whatever you want."
"I wouldn't ask you to lie."
"Good, because I don't lie to him, but I know him. The man is not happy, and if I can say something to push him along down the path to happiness, I'll do it."
"Thank you. You really think he'll be jealous?"
"Of the idea of you and me?" Mace laughed. "Insanely."
She felt heat suffusing her cheeks, but she loved Will. She was going to fight to get him back in her life. The man was gone. It was time to be bold. "I still don't know if I can make myself say this to you."
"That good, huh? Want to proposition me by e-mail?"
"Oh, there's an idea." If she waited until he left to send the e-mail, she'd never have to see him again. She could be embarrassed all by herself in Ohio.
"I'm gone a lot," Mace said. "I live for dirty e-mails, and I promise, I'll give Will a full report."
Chapter 19
She was messing with him, Will told himself.
They both were.
And yet, just the thought that it might be true made Will crazy. His temper was vile. He couldn't sleep. He had no self-control, no peace. Before Mace had even shown back up at work, Will was on a plane to Cincinnati. If he saw Mace, Will would knock him down.
Will didn't tell even Sam about the trip. Sam would enjoy giving Will shit about this, and he didn't want to listen.
He didn't tell Amanda he was coming, either, just took off in a mad frenzy.
Then, the minute he saw her, coming out the side door of the shelter, he knew he'd made a mistake by coming.
Jesus, she looked better every time he saw her.
Prettier, but also not as sad, her face not so pinched, her shoulders not all curled into herself, like she needed protection against anyone getting too close. She looked freer, lighter—maybe even joyous the moment she saw him.
How was he supposed to resist her when she looked like that?
"Will? I didn't know you were coming," she said.
"Liar," he whispered.
She had the nerve to laugh. Had he ever seen her truly laugh? It was a beautiful sight. Her lips curled up, making her cheeks fuller and her freckles more pronounced. Her pretty blue-green eyes sparkled, and her lips... He couldn't look at her lips. He couldn't think about them.
"You let him kiss you?" he roared, completely blowing every plan he'd had for how to deal with her.
"I did." She looked so pleased with herself.
"You're messing with me."
"How is that messing with you? You left. You said you weren't coming back. How does it have anything to do with you?"
"You knew I'd hate it. I hate the idea of anyone else touching you." There. He wasn't even pretending anymore. He couldn't.
"I thought you might. I wanted you to hate the idea of anyone else touching me, but I wasn't sure you would. I was afraid it didn't matter. Because you left."
Son of a bitch, he'd done just that and regretted it every damned moment since. Especially now. But what else could he do? She should not be with someone like him.
"So, you have a little project, and you asked Mace to help you with it?"
"Yes."
"Really? You asked him to please sleep with you?"
"To think about it, eventually. I mean, hopefully, we'd work up to that. Someone has to be the first, Will, if it's not going to be you."
"You didn't ask me."
"How was I supposed to do that? You weren't here, and you didn't even give me your phone number."
"Shit." He hadn't. He'd known he needed a clean break. "You should be with someone... someone not like me."
"And yet, here you are," she said, like she knew she'd already won.
Because yes, here he was.
He'd come running, as soon as he'd heard about her little project to get back in touch with her sexuality, to get comfortable with touching and being touched, to enjoy herself with a man instead of being afraid.
He'd been thrown a good fifteen feet one time by a home-made bomb. Lucky as shit it hadn't killed him or blown apart anything crucial. It had made his head spin, and left him deaf except for the roaring in his ears, not knowing where he was for a while.
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He'd felt much the same way when Mace told him what she was up to.
"You don't want him," Will said. He couldn't help it.
"He's not my first pick, but he's willing to help, and he seems like a really nice guy, understanding and kind under that front he puts up—"
"It's not a front. He goes after women like you wouldn't believe, all the damned time."
"Well, if that was all he wanted, I'm sure he could find someone a lot less trouble than I'll be. It's going to take some work, I think, and some time. He'll be doing me a favor."
"Yeah, such a chore, getting to have you in bed." Will shook with anger.
"I guess I could start calling old boyfriends. Emma said it would probably be easier, the first few times, with someone familiar, an old lover instead of a brand new one."
Aw, fuck, this just kept getting worse.
She didn't mean it, he told himself. She was just trying to force his hand. It still made him crazy.
"So, you're going to call the architect? You already left him once. You really think it's worth starting something all over again with him?"
"I'm not looking to start something. It's not going to be a serious relationship. I'm not ready for that. It's just... sex, just working to reclaim that part of my life. I don't want to be scared about that or anything else, Will."
"Right. No-strings sex. That's what you're looking for? I don't believe that for a minute."
"No, not that either, exactly. I told you, I'm looking for a friend, someone I feel comfortable with, someone I trust, to help me."
So, she was saying he could have her himself? No commitment. No future here. All he had to do was agree to help her with her little project?
He turned his head to the side and swore under his breath. He was dying for the woman. He wanted to kill anyone who dared touch her. Mace had kissed her, and Will still wanted blood for that.
"So," she said, daring to stand there looking so perfect and beautiful and sexy. "Did you come just to yell at me? Or are you going to help?"
Help?
He'd been doomed right from the start where she was concerned. From the moment he'd first seen her in the photograph, from the time he'd heard what she'd done, getting those kids in her classroom to safety.