But Bree… every asshole in that bar had eye-fucked her and her friend as soon as they hit the floor. Hard to miss them, dressed in cut-offs and t-shirts. Not the usual biker babes and Special Forces groupies that hung around The Deck, looking for a quick thrill. That kiss in the hall had made him feel something for the first time in a long time. He’d barely refrained from fucking her in the taxi. The only thing that stopped him was the audience. If he’d been sober enough to drive, he probably wouldn’t have gotten further than the cab of his truck.
That had been one of the hardest orgasms he’d ever had. Her long auburn hair, tangled from his hands, had been spread out on the bed, and he’d been ready to go again. He groaned remembering how she tasted coming in his mouth.
What the hell was taking her so long?
He got out of bed, pulled on his boxers, and headed down the hall past the dark, empty bathroom.
Where is she?
Jase walked into the dim living room. Her shoes and keys were gone.
“What the fuck?”
“She bailed, dude,” Chris said as he sat up on the couch, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes before running his hands back and forth over his head. “She left about an hour ago.”
“You didn’t try to stop her?”
“Short of tackling her and hog-tying her until you woke up, what did you want me to do?”
“Wake my ass up.”
“Why were you asleep in the first place? Fine piece of ass in my bed, I wouldn’t have been sleeping.”
“Don’t call her a piece of ass. Your place was closer.”
“Didn’t want to wait the half hour drive to your place?”
“No.”
“Figured. Wash my sheets.” He got up and headed to the kitchen.
“Yeah, sure. I thought you were going to be gone for another week.” Jase collapsed on the recliner.
“Got a break. Wrapped it up early.”
“Get the bad guys?”
“Always.”
Jase stared up at the ceiling fan as it spun in a slow, hypnotic circle. “Fuck. I need to go get my truck.”
“Had one of the guys drop me at the bar. Brandon said you took a cab, so I grabbed your truck.”
“’Preciate it.”
Chris paused in the process of scooping grounds into the coffee maker. “Did you get her number?”
“Fuck. No.” Jase put both hands over his face, scrubbing his beard and running them up into his hair.
“Did you get her name?”
Jase dropped his hands to the arms of the recliner and glared. “Yes, jackass, I got her name.”
“Her whole name?” Chris asked.
If Chris weren’t such a good friend, he’d knock that shit-eating grin off his face. “She mentioned it at one point.”
“But you don’t remember it.” Chris started to laugh. “You’re screwed, then.”
“I’ll call Tim, see if he can do anything.”
“You’re really going to call your brother to track down a chick? Must have been one sweet pussy.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever blown my load that hard in my life.” He adjusted his shorts as his body responded to his memory. “And don’t refer to her as pussy again.”
“I said sweet pussy.”
Jase growled.
“Chill, dude, I’m just giving you shit. Must have been one hell of a ride though, to have you this strung out over a chick leaving the morning after. Hasn’t been your MO in a while, bringing home a woman you just met in a bar.” He reached into the fridge to grab some eggs before turning back to Jase.
“Shit, I don’t know what the hell it was. It was just…different. The way she handled herself last night. You know how we can be, especially when we’re drinking. Loud and obnoxious.”
“You mean drunken jackasses.”
“Yeah, basically. She and her friend didn’t blink. Just rolled with the punches. She didn’t take anyone’s shit.” Jase trailed off as he rested his head against the back of the chair. “Christ, I sound like a chick.”
“Keep it up and I’ll have to confiscate your man card,” Chris said, pointing a spatula at him. “You really want to find her?”
“Dude, I just said I was willing to call my brother and deal with the ration of shit he’s going to give me because I’m asking for a favor. Yeah, I want to find her.”
“Well, I might be able to help you.”
“How’s that?” Jase pushed out of the chair to grab a cup of coffee.
“She seemed familiar.”
Jase closed the cabinet door hard. “Familiar how?”
“I haven’t slept with her, if that’s what you’re thinking. She looked familiar. Maybe on a deployment? It’ll come to me.”
Jase gave him a small head nod.
“You need help with class today or are you going home to sulk and pine over your girl?” Chris asked.
“Asshole.”
Chris smirked. “Is that a yes?”
“Yes.”
“Just checking. You want some eggs?”
“Sure,” Jase headed back to the bedroom. “I’m gonna grab a shower.”
“Put my sheets in the wash, fucker,” Chris called out at Jase’s back.
Jase stacked the hale bales used behind the targets on his 10-acre property near Haven Springs, twenty miles south of Raleigh, North Carolina.
“We’re going to have an extra guy today,” he told Chris.
“Last minute addition?”
“Yeah. One of the guys already signed up called and asked if he could bring his buddy along.”
“You good with that? Has he been vetted yet?”
Jase sighed. “No. He said he’s turned in all the paperwork and he’s just waiting on the shrink to sign off on it. We’re using blunt tips today anyway.”
“Still bleed like a motherfucker if a guy manages to shoot you with an arrow,” Chris said.
“I know, but I can’t turn a guy away.”
Chris gave a curt chin lift. “Yeah.”
They worked together without saying anything more. Jase appreciated Chris’s willingness to help him out with the archery classes. Most of the other volunteers were willing to help on the trips because they got to go out and hunt or fish, but they didn’t like the mundane part of the business. Maybe if his funding came through he’d be able to actually hire some guys to help out on a regular basis.
“Trucks are coming up the drive,” Chris said.
Jase and Chris introduced themselves to each guy as they arrived. Ryan introduced himself as the extra.
“You understand you’re going to have to share equipment with your friend, right? I usually limit beginner classes to six.”
“That’s no problem. And I really appreciate you working me in. The doc at the VA said my paperwork should be faxed to your office no later than Wednesday.”
“I’ll keep an eye out for it.”
They walked over to the group and Jase began his introduction. “Okay, let’s get started. Welcome to V.E.T. Adventures. This is an introduction to using a hunting bow, so when you are able to go on a hunting trip, you’ll actually bag a kill. Chris is going to help me demonstrate the basics: stance, proper posture, aiming, and release. Everyone here went through Combat Arms Training so it should all be familiar. Are there any questions before we begin?”
“Why a bow and not a rifle?” Robert, one of the students, asked.
“Really it comes down to preference. I think a bow requires more skill, more patience, and more concentration. Much harder to bring down a deer with an arrow than it is with a rifle. Anything else?”
When no one responded, Jase took them over to the small tables set up about eighty feet from the targets. He walked them through the different parts of the bow before he had Chris demonstrate the proper stance.
Jase stood close behind him to adjust his support arm. “Hey now, you just got you some last night,” Chris said.
“Shut it, asshole.”
; The group spent the next hour trying to hit the circle targets pinned to the hale bales. Jase kept an eye out for when guys became frustrated. One guy, a below-the-knee amputee, seemed to be having the hardest time.
“Hey, what’s your name again?” Jase asked.
“Rob.” He dropped his arms with the bow and arrow still gripped tightly in his hands.
“Okay Rob, tell me what’s throwing you.”
“Everything. My balance is off and it’s throwing everything else off.”
“How long have you had your prosthetic?” Jase asked. He didn’t mince words. Ignoring the ugly baby didn’t make it less ugly.
“I got fitted about a month ago,” Rob said.
“And how long did it take you to learn to walk after you healed up?”
“Shit, I was in rehab for eighteen months.”
“Right. It took you eighteen months to learn how to walk again, so you’re not going to learn archery in an hour. It’s a new skill. It’s going to take practice, just like anything else. Don’t get frustrated. You get frustrated and it’s just going to mess you up even more. What service were you in?”
“Marines.”
“Okay, so this should sound familiar. Slow is smooth, smooth is fast.”
Rob smirked. “Yeah, it’s familiar.”
“Same principle. Focus. Find your balance. Take your time.”
Rob closed his eyes, took a deep breath and let it out. Jase stepped back to give him room. Rob shifted his weight between his prosthetic and his leg, finding his center of gravity. He raised his arms and pulled back on the string. Jase could see the moment, on the fall of Rob’s exhale, when he released the arrow. It flew forward and landed on the outer ring of the target with a dull thunk.
He clapped Rob on the shoulder. “Good job, man.”
“Thanks.” Rob picked up another arrow, a small smile on his face. Jase walked down the line, leaving Rob to his victory. Small as it may be, for a lot of guys those small victories were all that kept them going some days.
By the end of the class, each student was hitting the target four out of five times. It wasn’t until they were putting the equipment away that he noticed the extra guy, Ryan, hadn’t been using an arm guard.
Jase grabbed Ryan’s wrist and turned it to look at his forearm, noticing the extensive scars that ran from the back of his hand all the way up to his bicep. “Man, your arm is going to be black tomorrow. It’s already bruising. Why didn’t you say anything?”
Ryan ran his fingers over his forearm as Jase released his wrist. “I don’t have a lot of feeling from my elbow to my wrist because of the scarring. I honestly didn’t know it was happening.”
“Sorry, man. I would have fixed something up if I had known.”
“Really, it’s no problem. Although my physical therapist is probably going to ream me a new one tomorrow.”
“He a dick?” Jase asked.
Ryan laughed. “It’s a she and she’s gorgeous. Usually nice as can be, but I’ve seen her lay into guys before when they weren’t sticking to their program. She scares me a little. She used to deploy with Special Ops guys and doesn’t put up with anyone’s bullshit.”
Jase smiled. “Well, if she gives you too much shit, give her my number and I’ll take the brunt of it for you.”
“Ha! Don’t think I won’t. I wasn’t kidding when I said she scares me.”
After the students left, Jase and Chris returned the hay bales to the metal shed, stacked the equipment on the racks, and locked everything up. Chris took off with a wave to go back to his place, and Jase headed to his house on the other side of the property.
Jase turned off the ignition and sat in his truck. Even while running the class, he couldn’t get Bree out of his head. Every breeze seemed to carry a hint of her perfume, the only trace she’d left behind. He tapped his phone against his thigh, thinking about calling his brother, a cop on the Haven Springs police force. He felt kind of stupid doing it. He could just imagine how that conversation would go. Hey, man can you put out an APB for a woman I took home last night? I only got her first name. His brother would never let him live that down. Plus, what could Jase really tell him? He knew her name, knew it was short for Brianna. Knew she had long, red hair that felt like silk running through his fingers. Knew her sapphire-blue eyes sparkled when she laughed and got dark when she was turned on.
He hit the steering wheel. Fuck. He couldn’t believe she had just taken off that morning. He yanked the keys out of the ignition and slammed out of his truck. He had nothing to give his brother. Nothing.
Bree let out a small moan, rolling her hips. She whimpered, trying to reach fulfillment. The alarm sounded and her eyes opened abruptly. Her arousal faded along with the erotic dream teasing the edges of her subconscious.
Dammit!
She slapped the snooze button and groaned. The unfulfilled orgasm lingered, leaving her edgy, frustrated, and downright grumpy. She’d dreamed of Jase every night for the past week, always waking just before climax. She couldn’t get him out of her mind. To make matters worse, the memory of his hot mouth trailing down her body would suddenly burst into her mind and she would get hot and flushed. Patients saw her reddened cheeks and asked her if she was feeling well. She thought about driving by his house, but she didn’t want to be that girl. How embarrassing would it be if she showed up and he didn’t remember? Or had another girl there?
Her phone binged on her nightstand. She glared at the offending device. Chad had texted every morning since she’d kicked him out. I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I miss you. She deleted the text without reading it. Day late and a dollar short, asshat.
With a groan she got out of bed and got ready for work. An hour later she strolled into the physical therapy clinic.
Her first patient of the day was already in the waiting room.
“Morning, Ryan. I’ll be with you in a few minutes.”
“No worries, Doc. Feel free to delay the abuse as long as you need,” he replied with a grin.
Bree rolled her eyes at his exaggeration. “Don’t be such a baby.”
She stored her bag in the locker and logged on to her computer to see if there were any changes to her schedule. One of her afternoon appointments had cancelled, but a call-in had quickly taken the spot. She sighed and adjusted her neck. There were just too many patients and not enough providers.
She pulled up Ryan’s record to review. Extensive injuries to his left side during an Improvised Explosive Device attack in Iraq had left his arm nearly mutilated. The surgeons had managed to save it, but the damage to the underlying muscle and tissue limited his range of motion. Bree read her notes from his session two weeks ago - his treatment plan was right on track.
She picked up her phone and dialed her assistant’s extension. “Cindy, can you bring Ryan back?”
“Sure, Dr. Marks.”
“Thanks.” She hung up the receiver and covered the table with a new sheet.
“Hey, Ryan. You know the drill.”
“You know, Doc, just once it’d be nice if you had me lie down for a reason other than to torture me.”
Bree patted Ryan on the head. “Oh. That’s sweet you think you could handle me.”
Ryan laughed.
“Let’s see if we can break up some of this scar tissue and increase your range of motion.” She turned his arm over, palm up.
“What the hell is this?” She brushed her thumb over the black and purple bruise covering most of the inside of his forearm.
“Oh, that. Archery.”
“Oh, that,” she repeated. “I need more detail. I can’t work on you with this kind of bruising.”
“Why? It’s not like I can feel it.”
Bree sighed in exasperation. “You might not be able to feel it because of the nerve damage, but what I do still affects the underlying muscle and fascia. This is a lot of bruising, which means a lot of trauma happened to the area. What were you doing?”
Ryan sat
up. “A buddy of mine invited me to go to an archery class for wounded veterans. It’s part of a prep course to go on a bow-hunting trip. I was a last-minute addition, so they didn’t have enough arm guards for everyone. The guy who was running the training reamed me a new one, if it makes you feel better.”
Bree looked at him for a moment. She could yell at him for being careless, but that would only shut him down. She depended on communication with her patients to determine their pain level and appropriate treatment. And she didn’t want to discourage him from doing something he enjoyed. “Did you like it?”
“Shooting with a bow? Yeah, it was cool. Different than shooting a rifle, you know? Took a lot more concentration.”
“Were you able to straighten your arm all the way or did you have to compensate somehow?”
“I couldn’t straighten it all the way. I kind of had to cock my elbow and lock the muscles around it to hold the bow steady. It was awkward.”
Bree gave Ryan a small nod. “Lay back down; I’ll go easy on you today.”
“Thanks. Sorry, Doc. I even told the guy you were going to yell at me when you saw it.”
“Are you going on a trip soon?”
“I’m not sure. My buddy’s going in two weeks or so. The trips are Thursday through Sunday, so I have to see if I can get off work.”
“What’s the name of the company?”
“Vet Adventures. They organize hunting, fishing, and camping trips. One of the guys running it said their main goal is to get guys back out and be part of a team again, even if it’s just a few days.”
“It sounds like a good program.” Her thumb palpated the inside of his elbow, searching out knotted tissue.
He winced when she found an especially tender spot, but didn’t react otherwise. “I think that’s one of the things I miss most about the Army, you know?”
Stitched Up Heart (Combat Hearts Book 1) Page 4