Chad made small talk about the area while he drove—he was an instant expert at driving with his left foot, apparently—and she tried to pay attention to who had owned that bar when he’d used his fake ID and what friend of Chad’s had drunk straight out of the soda fountain at that convenience store and what sports memorabilia store used to be located in that strip mall, but she couldn’t concentrate. What important thing was he going to ask her? And why had he mentioned it so early in the evening? She couldn’t enjoy his company properly if her mind was racing.
“You seem distracted,” he commented as he drove into the parking lot of a large steakhouse.
“What can you possibly ask me about that’s important?” she blurted.
“It’s just about the house,” he said as he pulled into a parking spot far from other cars.
“I haven’t even seen the house yet,” she reminded him. Well, not officially.
“You will. Now, pretend I didn’t mention it. I’m going to need you to get me through this.” He took a deep breath and opened the door, scooting out of his seat and balancing on his foot as he pulled his crutches out. She opened her door and started to climb out, but stopped when he leaned into the interior of the car.
“Don’t you dare get out of that car,” he said.
She froze, one foot dangling out her door, and twisted around until she could see him. Had he changed his mind already?
“I will escort you,” he added before shutting the driver’s door and coming around to her side of the car.
She flushed when he took her hand and helped her out of her seat.
“Thank you.” She’d never dated a man who opened doors for her or escorted her anywhere. She’d thought she’d find such antiquated manners annoyingly patronizing, but in reality, his behavior made her feel treasured, feminine, and flustered all at once.
“I’d like to hold your hand,” he said, “but I don’t think I can manage it with the crutches.”
“I can hold onto your—”
“Ass? That wouldn’t be appropriate in public, angel.”
She flushed several degrees warmer. “I was going to say arm.”
“Sure you were.” He winked at her. “But that might work.”
He actually had to slow himself down so her waddling form could keep up with him. Her back was starting to ache by the time they made it to the front door. “You need to apply for a handicap parking space,” she told him.
He scowled. “I’m perfectly capable of traversing a parking lot.”
“Not for you, for me. Why did you park so far from the door?”
“Because A, I don’t want anyone dinging my car with their doors, and B, you need the exercise. You’re out of shape. I’m going to start taking you to the gym with me.”
She groaned. She hated working out. She leaned close to his ear and said, “Can’t we just have more sex? That’s exercise.”
He laughed but didn’t tell her if he considered that a good enough workout to get her in shape. He spoke to the hostess instead. “Reservations for two under the name Mitchell.”
The hostess fixed her gaze on the empty space under the right leg of Chad’s shorts before swiveling that gaze upward and smiling warmly. “Your table is ready,” she said. She grabbed a couple of menus and dashed to a table at the far corner of the restaurant. Again with the excess traveling, Lindsey thought, rubbing her lower back with both hands.
“I owe you a massage after this,” Chad told her.
She had a few other things in mind, but she poked him in the belly. “Yes, you do.”
Heads turned as they passed through the restaurant, and an undercurrent of whispers followed them all the way to their table. Varying degrees of sadness and pity covered each face they passed. Lindsey received several sad smiles as well. She read several of those looks as saying, I’m sorry you’re stuck with him, interspersed with at least one Dear God, you’re huge. Your back must be killing you.
This was the first time Lindsey had been out with Chad anywhere but to the physical therapist’s office. People did stare. Part of her was glad he’d ventured out despite the rudeness, but part of her wanted to poke out every pair of eyes trained on his back.
He pulled out her chair and then circled around to his side of the table, leaning his crutches against the wall before flopping into his seat. “That part still needs work,” he said.
“What part?”
“Sitting. You’d think standing would be the hardest thing to do with one leg, but it’s harder for me to sit gracefully than to stand.”
“You’re still more graceful than I am at the moment.” She patted her belly.
“Your server will be right with you,” the hostess said. “Enjoy your dinner.”
Lindsey reached for her menu, trying hard not to glare at the rubbernecking man at the next table. Let them stare. And fuck him.
“You can’t go wrong with any steak on the menu,” Chad told her, flipping open his menu. “I’ve heard the chicken and the pork chops are also fantastic, but I’ve never ventured from their red meat selections.”
She wasn’t sure she could handle red meat. Her stomach was simmering with building anger, which only heightened when Rubber-Neck Man stood from his table and approached theirs.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” he said, “but are you Sergeant Chad Mitchell?”
Chad glanced up from his menu, the surprise on his face evident. “Not a sergeant any more—I didn’t reenlist—but yeah, I go by Chad. Have we met?”
“No, no we haven’t,” the man said, reaching out a hand, which Chad took for a vigorous shake. “I read about you in the paper. You’re some hero. Record number of IEDs identified and diffused.”
“The dog did most of the work.”
Lindsey had always wanted to ask Chad about his deployment, but he never wanted to talk about his past. She could tell by the current tension in his body that he certainly didn’t want to discuss his time overseas with this stranger.
“Sorry to interrupt your evening,” the man said, “but I had to come over and thank you for serving our country so selflessly and saving so many lives.”
Chad averted his gaze, his face unreadable. “I appreciate that, sir.”
“This is that local Marine, Chad Mitchell!” the man said, shaking Chad’s hand even harder and smacking him on the back repeatedly. The restaurant patrons clapped and cheered.
“Is this your wife?”
The man smiled at Lindsey, who cringed.
“No, sir. This is our first date actually.”
Chad cocked his head as he grinned at Lindsey, and heat rose up her neck. God, he was gorgeous when he looked at her like that.
The man screwed up his face as he took in Lindsey’s advanced condition. He obviously didn’t find her first-date material.
“Well, I’ll leave you two to get to know each other,” he said, giving Chad another smack on the back before releasing his hand and returning to his table.
“It’s nice to be recognized,” Lindsey said, though she was seventeen shades of uncomfortable at the moment, and she couldn’t read what Chad was feeling from his expression. She needed to look up the article the man had referred to. “Why haven’t you ever mentioned that you saved a bunch of lives?”
He swallowed and licked his lips. “Because I didn’t.”
“Oh,” she said flatly. “Then why did he—”
“Not directly.” He shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Their server arrived, halting the conversation, and Lindsey wasn’t sure if she was glad or disappointed that their tense conversation had been interrupted.
“What can I get you to drink?” the petite brunette asked.
Chad ordered a beer, which sounded almost as good as wine, but Lindsey settled on the pregnancy-safe choice of ginger ale.
“People drink that stuff on purpose?” Chad asked.
“It settles my stomach,” she said.
“You’re uncomfortable now,�
�� he said. “Are you sorry you came?”
“Of course not. I love spending time with you.”
“You just prefer not to be seen with me.”
Lindsey blinked. “Of course, I want to be seen with you. Where is this coming from?”
“You keep glaring at everyone.”
That had nothing to do with him and everything to do with them. “Because they won’t stop staring at us,” she said in a harsh whisper.
“Maybe they’re staring because I’m so sexy.” He pretended to sweep a lock of hair behind one ear.
She grinned, some of the tension melting from her spine. “I’m not sure about them, but that’s why I stare.”
“Relax.” He reached across the table and took her hand. “Don’t worry about them. Concentrate on me. I get off on your attention.”
“That wouldn’t be appropriate in public,” she said.
When their drinks arrived, they both ordered steak. Lindsey’s stomach had settled now that she was ignoring everyone but Chad.
“When do I get to see the house?” she asked.
“I want to get all the demolition out of the way first. You shouldn’t breathe in the dust.”
“Just how much are you demolishing?”
“Just the kitchen, the current laundry room slash powder room, an upstairs closet, and the master bathroom. Widening a doorframe or two.”
“Is that all?”
“The house has great bones.” He took a sip of his beer. “Literally. I found several raccoon skeletons in the corner of the attic.”
“Ew.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve already patched up the hole in the soffit.”
She gaped at him. “You’re climbing ladders?”
“Did I say I patched it?” He grinned. “I told Owen to patch it. I guess I can ask you that important question now,” he said. “Promise you’ll think about it before you say no.”
“Why do you assume I’ll say no?”
“Just promise.”
“I promise.”
Somebody moved to stand next to Chad, drawing Lindsey’s attention from him. Their party crasher wasn’t a stranger this time. Lindsey had seen this bitch at the hospital in San Antonio.
“Hello, Chad,” Josie said, her brown eyes raking over the man she’d discarded just a month before. “You’re looking well.”
Eyes narrowed, Lindsey reached for her steak knife.
Chapter Fourteen
Chad’s heart was ripped from his chest and tossed on the ground, where it crept across the floor like a wounded slug to curl up in the corner and await death.
“Josie,” he said, her name a breathless croak.
“I didn’t realize you were already out of the hospital,” Josie said, resting a hand on his shoulder and gifting him with a familiar smile. A month ago, he’d have paid any price to see that smile in person. And now . . . now he wasn’t sure how he felt at all. Seeing her tore open the reinforced mental black box he’d placed her memory in. The box he’d thought impenetrable when he’d closed the lid and shelved it alongside the memory of Emerson’s death and the one of the first man he’d shot dead in the line of duty and all the other memories he wasn’t prepared to deal with.
“Don’t touch him,” Lindsey snarled. “Don’t even talk to him.”
“Who’s this?” Josie asked. Her voice ripped his spine out and sent it slithering off to join his heart.
“A friend,” he said, scarcely recognizing that breathless voice as his own.
He looked up at Josie, and his mind went blank as his brain vacated his skull. Just how many internal organs was she going to rip out of him before she was finished?
“Josie!” The harsh whisper came from several feet away.
Chad looked over his shoulder. Desmond, a good friend of Chad’s from high school, was waving a hand at her, signaling her to join him. Chad lifted a finger of greeting at Des and was ignored. He dropped his hand. He understood that some people were uncomfortable around the differently abled, but he’d known Des for over ten years, and as far as Chad knew, the man wasn’t blind. Maybe he didn’t recognize him. Or maybe he was so fixated on Josie that he hadn’t seen Chad’s gesture. Surely he wasn’t just rude.
“Josie!” Desmond said a little louder. “We have to go.”
We?
“Your date is calling you,” Lindsey said, gripping her steak knife in a tight fist.
“I hear him. He’ll wait.”
“You’re dating Des?” Chad managed to get the question out through his constricted throat.
“You were gone so long,” Josie said. “And it just sort of happened. I didn’t mean—”
“You were dating Des while I was in Afghanistan?”
She took her hand off his shoulder as if he’d burst into flames, and as hot as his temper had just flared, maybe he had.
“Did you use my amputation as an excuse to dump me?” And did that make her a better person or a worse one? It definitely made her a stranger. How could she have cheated on him and still smiled and flirted like nothing was wrong whenever they Skyped? What the fuck?
“I just wanted to say hi.” Josie backed away. “Be seeing you.”
“He hopes not!” Lindsey yelled after her.
Chad just sat there, too stunned to get off his ass and beat the ever-loving shit out of Desmond Parrish. At least he knew why Des had ignored his greeting. How long had he been fucking Chad’s fiancée? Did it matter? What the hell?
“Are you okay?” Lindsey asked, dropping her steak knife and reaching across the table for his hand.
He withdrew it and hid it under the table.
“Chad?” She sniffed. Tears were leaking from her eyes.
“Are you crying for me again? In public?”
She grabbed a napkin and dabbed at her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m just . . . just so mad. I should have stabbed her.”
The thought of enormously pregnant Lindsey taking Josie out with a steak knife caught Chad as humorous, and he laughed. “Ah, fuck my life.” He rubbed his face with both hands, wishing he was at home on the sofa with Lindsey curled against his side watching another Schwarzenegger flick. When had he become such a homebody?
Their server arrived with their steaks, and they both stared at their plates as if they’d been served manure. Chad met Lindsey’s gaze across the table. “Want to eat at my house?” he asked.
She nodded.
He signaled their waitress, who’d just stepped away with the huge serving tray under one arm.
“I’m sorry, but can you wrap this up for us. We have somewhere we need to be.”
She blinked as if it was a request she’d never heard before, but then she smiled. “Absolutely.” She collected their plates and carried them back to the kitchen.
“Wasn’t there something important you were going to ask me?” Lindsey asked.
He wasn’t sure he could take a rejection from her after what Josie had done to him. He also wasn’t sure why he wasn’t more upset by Josie’s betrayal. Maybe because in at least one way, he was glad she was gone. Fuck that bitch.
“I was . . . uh . . .” Words failed him, so he chugged half his beer. “I thought maybe . . .” He reached for his beer again and chugged the second half.
“Thirsty?”
He nodded, wondering where his spine had wandered off to and if it planned to return anytime soon. He could really use it at the moment. “Will you move in with me?” he blurted.
She stared at him unblinking for a long moment. “As your nurse?”
He shook his head.
“Friend?” she asked.
He shook his head again.
“Roommate?”
“As my lov . . . ver.” Smooth, Chad. “My lover. Girlfriend, significant other, or whatever you prefer to be called. You can have your own room if you want, but I hope you’ll want to sleep with me.”
“I thought your house was a demolition zone.”
“The bedrooms are fine, and I won’t redo the upst
airs bath until later, but I understand if you—”
“Yes.”
“—don’t want to make that kind of commitment until—”
“Yes.”
“—after the baby is born. But before you decide, I want to show you something.”
Lindsey chuckled and squeezed his hand. “I already decided. I said yes, Chad.”
“Oh.” He huffed on a laugh, not sure what the bubbly feeling inside his chest was all about. “Okay, well, I guess I didn’t need to rush on your surprise then.”
“My surprise?”
“At the house.”
Their server placed two Styrofoam containers on the edge of the table. “Thanks for coming,” she said. “I hope you’ll visit us again soon.”
“I need the check,” Chad said, lifting the sack of food to see if she’d placed it underneath.
“Oh, that gentleman over there paid for your meal.” She pointed at a stranger a few tables away who smiled and saluted him.
Chad nodded at the friendly fellow, whose entire party was now grinning and saluting. “That’s awfully nice of him, but I can’t accept—”
Lindsey squeezed his hand, cutting him off.
“Thank him for us,” she said to the server. Then she hauled herself out of her chair.
Chad got his foot under him and pressed against the wall to stand. He grabbed his crutches and avoided eye contact with gawkers as he led the way back to the car.
Once Lindsey was tucked inside with their meals on the floorboards at her feet, he shut her door and took a deep breath. Images of Josie—her smile, her laugh, the way she used to look at him—crowded his thoughts, but he pushed them aside and pushed her into his past where she belonged.
By the time he backed the car out, he had his wits about himself again. He’d be okay. Especially with Lindsey beside him. Sometimes he wondered if she really was an angel sent from heaven to look after him when he’d needed one most.
“Do you have a bed yet?” she asked.
Then again, he didn’t think real angels had sex on the brain 24-7. Not that he minded. He grinned to himself and said to Lindsey, “It was delivered this afternoon. Why? Did you want to break it in?”
Love Me (One Night with Sole Regret Book 12) Page 18