by Denise Agnew
“That sounds awesome,” Terra said. “I can’t wait to see it.”
Annie had never fallen into stereotypical traditional roles for what a girl should do or be interested in, and Terra had a feeling the grade-school-aged child would grow up to be an astronaut or firefighter or cop. The girl had a lot of energy, and with Fletch’s influence, she’d become even more fearless.
Three men stood near the kitchen counter sipping beers with Fletch. Immediately Terra noticed that one of the young men had military cut red hair. That jolted her, and she stood in the entry with her coat and hat still on. She quickly realized that other than his short red hair, he didn’t look anything like Allan Rivers. Get a grip, Terra.
“Hey Terra, glad you could make it,” Fletch said from the kitchen.
Fletch advanced into the room to give Terra a hug after she took off her coat. Emily ran away with Terra’s coat and purse while Fletch drew her into the kitchen to meet the guys.
Fletch introduced her. The redheaded guy was Marcus Janes, while the blond man was Rob Taylor and the African American man was Rasheed Smith. All three men looked to be in their early twenties. A little young for her, thank goodness. At thirty years old, she didn’t find men that young to be dating material. Maybe Emily wouldn’t hatch matchmaking ideas. Allan had been a couple of years younger than her.
Stop thinking about him. He’s out of your life for good.
Fletch offered her something to drink, and she accepted a cup of coffee and talked with the young men about their military jobs and how long they’d be in the area. They seemed to hang on her every word, which had Emily smiling and Fletch giving them sidelong glances while he helped Emily prepare Thanksgiving dinner.
“Can I help you?” Terra asked Emily after the men moved away to watch some sports on television and indulge in snacks.
“I think I’ve got everything ready, but here…you can help me set the table.”
Terra noticed the monitor on the kitchen counter and didn’t ask what it was. She’d been to their house before and had learned the monitor was part of Fletch’s elaborate security setup. Security cameras around his entire property made sure no one could come down the driveway or approach his front door without the occupants of the house seeing. At one point in her life Terra would’ve thought the security a bit of overkill. Allan Rivers had changed all that. At least here, in Emily and Fletch’s house, safety surrounded Terra.
Emily caught Terra staring at the monitor. “You’re safe here.”
Terra smiled as she opened the door with the utensils. “I was just thinking that.”
Emily opened a cabinet and reached for plates. “It takes a little getting used to. Having the security system, that is.”
“How do you…deal with that, though? Doesn’t it make you feel paranoid?”
Emily sighed and put the plates down on the counter. “Not really. But even if it did, I’d tolerate it. In Fletch’s line of work there are some enemies. With my daughter I won’t take risks. It’s worth it to have the security.”
Emily gathered up forks, knives and spoons. “I don’t blame you.”
Before long they were chatting away without a care in the world as they set up the dining table for the meal. Terra felt better than she had in a long time. She needed to remind herself every day that socializing helped alleviate her fears once she simply tried it. Boxing herself up at home made things worse, not better.
The phone rang and Emily answered. “Aimee, where are you guys? Oh no. I’m sorry. Hope you feel better.” Emily teased Aimee over the phone. “Just means more food for the guys. You know they’ll clean up their plates. Yes, Terra is here. Sure, I’ll say hello.”
After she signed off, Emily turned to Terra. “Well that sucks. Aimee has a stomach bug so they’re staying home. I hope she feels better soon. She’s just glad you decided to join us, though.”
“I’ll bet she is. You and Aimee have some of the most devious minds. You know exactly how to get people to see your way.”
Emily lifted one eyebrow as she arranged utensils on a blue linen napkin. “Sorry you came?”
“Not at all. I needed to get out of the apartment and seeing you all is fantastic.”
Emily peered at her. “Is everything okay? I get the feeling there’s something you’re holding back.”
Terra knew she couldn’t keep Emily in the dark for long. She was already suspicious.
Terra kept her voice low. “The day before yesterday I thought I saw Allan Rivers at the grocery store.” The alarm on Emily’s face made Terra rush to say, “But I’m almost positive it wasn’t him.”
“Why didn’t you say something when we stopped by?”
Terra sighed. “Because I didn’t want you to worry, which I know you will anyway.”
The guys laughed loudly at something on the television, and Fletch came into the kitchen to get more snacks.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“Aimee has a stomach bug so they’re staying home.”
Fletch opened a bag of nacho chips and poured them into a large bowl. “Damn. That’s too bad.” He tilted his head a little to the side. “But why do I get the feeling that isn’t all you two are talking about?”
“See? Can’t hide anything from this guy,” Emily said.
Terra snagged a chip from the bowl. “It’s nothing to worry about, Fletch.”
“Yeah, whenever someone says that, I start to worry.”
Terra made a face. “I thought I saw Allan Rivers at the grocery store two days ago. But I’m sure it wasn’t him.”
The doorbell rang and Fletch headed that way. “Hold that thought and we’ll talk about it later. Wonder if this is Big Saw.”
Terra threw Emily a glance. “Big Saw?”
Emily grinned. “Friend of Fletch’s. We twisted his arm, too. He didn’t want to come out of his shell today, either.”
With a name like Big Saw, Terra expected a lumberjack with a stereotypical beard and plaid flannel shirt. The man that walked into the room blew that idea away.
Big Saw looked about Terra’s age or slightly older, but something in the way he carried himself said old soul. Over six feet tall, he was broad shouldered, wore a green sweater under a brown leather jacket and jeans and athletic shoes. Though she couldn’t tell how muscular he was, she got the impression of leashed power. Thick, wavy dark brown hair curled just below his collar. His face, while technically handsome, had a hardness to it. Under the right circumstances, he could be a scary-looking guy. The man wasn’t a pretty boy by any means. He sported a five o’clock shadow on his upper lip and jaw. And those eyes, liquid dark brown with thick lashes, snagged her full attention.
Her breath caught, and he seemed to pause in taking of his jacket as he caught her gaze and held it.
Oh, my God. He’s freaking hot.
A visceral reaction shot through her. Raw. Uninhibited. Sexual.
Chapter Three
“Few things in this world tear me up anymore. It isn’t that every sound makes me jump, or each vehicle backfire throws me back into the war. That isn’t how my PTSD forms. I don’t think my car is going to roll over a nonexistent IED, or that insurgents are hiding around the corner. No. I just can’t feel the emotions a person should experience. Not much of anything. Not when I see a beautiful woman. Nothing.”
—Diary of Dylan Westcott.
When Dylan saw the woman, his reaction threw him off guard. Completely.
He’d forced himself out of his apartment door that morning. He realized that if he didn’t get his ass in gear and make an appearance—even a short one—at Fletch’s door, he’d get an ass chewing. He went into his Thanksgiving morning with a vow, though. No way would he go for Fletch’s idea that he turn into a bodyguard. Wasn’t. Happening.
That’s why when he saw the tall woman standing in the kitchen with Emily, he almost forgot everything and everyone else in the room. Her short dark brown hair was bouncy and curly. Clear stud earrings twinkled in her earlobes. A g
reen faceted pendant hung around her neck, and a fancy ring sparkled on her right hand.
Dumbstruck, he couldn’t look away from her. She had an oval face and delicate features, and her skin looked pale and flawless. Her big brown eyes swallowed him, and he thought he caught a hint of caution and maybe fear inside them. Her slim right hand went to her throat when she saw him, like she was shocked. Why was she looking at him like that?
Hell no. He didn’t want her to be afraid of him, and maybe at one time he would’ve rushed to reassure her in some way. His appearance sometimes scared people. They saw the longish hair, his size, and what Fletch called his “resting dick face” and they ran for cover.
He’d acknowledged a long time ago that he had a mean expression and nothing short of a big smile ever seemed to remove it. At one time he’d smiled and laughed a lot. These days…well…it took more to smile. Period. Especially when the smile was fake through and through.
As for looking like a killer biker, he supposed he could’ve cut his hair, shaved his face and smiled more. Yet all those years of needing to be clean shaven and wearing military short hair held little appeal to him now.
When she came around the side of the counter, he noticed her slim body. She wore a green turtleneck sweater and jeans with athletic shoes. Not fancy, but with an air of sophistication and class. A no fuss woman. A refreshing change from other women he’d dated in the distant past.
Dated? No way. Where had that come from? I’m not going to date her.
Fletch steered Dylan toward the woman.
“Dylan Westcott, this is Terra Fitzgerald,” Fletch said.
As he’d feared, she was the woman Fletch wanted him to protect.
Damn. Damn it.
Dylan held his hand out, and she smiled and took his grip with a solid handshake of her own. Her palm was warm and silky, and it sent a hot jolt straight to his groin.
Holy shit. Keep it together.
Her smile held warmth and acceptance, and he about melted under it. She released his hand. “Are you Big Saw?”
He returned her grin. “That’s me.”
“I’ve never understood the whole nickname thing with military men,” Terra said even as her smile said she was kidding.
Emily handed Dylan a beer. Just the brand he usually drank on the rare occasion he went to a party.
“Tell her how you got the nickname,” Emily said with a mischievous grin.
Dylan took a swig of beer and then shrugged. “I was in a military services sports competition. I won the wood sawing competition. Before that I never had a nickname.”
Terra’s eyebrows shot up. “Really? Did you grow up…I mean, did you learn on a farm or ranch or something to saw wood?”
With a different tone of voice or expression, Terra’s words could have sounded condescending. Yet he saw her genuinely curious expression and the fact she was impressed.
Dylan couldn’t help but grin at that one, and he really felt the amusement this time. Holy shit again. “Nope. Neither one of those. I just…I’m very strong. I just did it and won.”
Her gaze landed on his arms, as if she was assessing that strength, and a tingle started in his belly and hit his groin.
“How did you meet Fletch?” Terra asked before he could absorb that he hadn’t felt arousal like this in a long time.
He didn’t want to answer her question, though, because it meant he had to explain a lot of things he’d rather not. “We worked together a few times.”
Terra peered at him as if she wasn’t satisfied with the answer. “You were in the military?”
“Yeah, how did you know?”
“Well, I could assume it because you know Fletch…but it’s something in the way you walk. I don’t know why, but I can almost always tell if a person has been in the military,” Terra said and added a shrug.
Before Dylan could respond, Fletch said, “Come and meet the other guys.”
Dylan spent time watching college football and talking military shit with them. He purposely didn’t engage with Terra, trying to keep her out of his mind. But, yeah, that didn’t work. His gaze wanted to travel toward her, his thoughts blown away by the fact that he’d noticed her in a physical way as well.
She stayed in the kitchen with Emily and Annie as they worked on some last minute dessert.
He liked Rasheed, Marcus and Rob—they seemed like dedicated young enlisted men with their entire futures ahead of them. He saw himself in them, eager all those years ago to make a mark on the world and protect his country. Now he felt torn, understanding their drive but sad as hell he no longer possessed the inclination to serve.
The young soldiers seemed intrigued by Terra. He understood why. She possessed a genuine smile and non-judgmental aura that appealed to Dylan on a level he hadn’t felt in some time. Once he looked at her, he suddenly couldn’t tear his gaze away. She glanced up. She only met his eyes for a few seconds, but it was enough to make his breath catch in his throat. A burn started inside him again, a need to know more about her. A flush tinted her cheeks, and he wondered if he’d embarrassed her by staring.
Hell.
She was potent. He jerked his attention away from her.
The day progressed, and when Emily and Terra did join the men to watch football and talk, the hours slipped by without a hitch. Dylan avoided talking to Terra directly, and that probably made him seem like a dick. Hell, maybe he was.
A few moments later, she slipped on her coat and went into the back yard. Done with his beer, he went into the kitchen. Emily was running a mixer while Annie helped.
“Hey,” he said. “Terra all right?”
Emily shut off the mixer. “Honestly, I don’t know.”
Worry rose inside him, whether he wanted it to or not.
“What’s going on?”
Emily glanced at Annie, then up at him. “I think you should ask Terra.”
He understood. She didn’t want to talk about it in front of her child. “Right.”
He snagged his coat in the closet and went outside, two sides of him warring with one another. One side screamed to ignore Terra and her problems. He couldn’t get involved. The second said he had to check on her. Common human decency and all that. She stood outside watching nature turn the world into a frosty, overcast world.
She glanced at him. “Hi.”
She didn’t sound too pleased to see him, and internally he winced.
“Hey,” he said.
Silence immediately enveloped them as he stepped up beside her, leaving plenty of space between them.
“You okay?” he asked.
She met his gaze for a few seconds, but then quickly diverted to looking up at the sky. “I’m fine. Cloud watching. I’ve always loved doing this. Tonight’s going to be clear and cold.”
“I’m not much of a cloud watcher, but I suppose I should be.”
“No, you shouldn’t do anything you don’t want to do.”
He heard extra significance in her words, as if subtext lay there waiting to be understood.
“Thanks,” he said with a hint of humor.
“You’re welcome.”
“What about you? Do you always do things you don’t want to?”
She laughed. “All the time.”
“Ah…so is this a do as I say not as I do thing?”
“Yes.”
“I see. I’ll bet you’re doing something right now that you don’t want to do.”
“Such as?”
“Being here. Celebrating Thanksgiving.”
He saw her shoulders tense. She jerked her gaze to him. “How did you guess?”
He shrugged. “Not sure. I get feelings about people that are accurate. Don’t tell the guys that. They’ll just give me shit and call it woo-woo.”
“Really? I mean…aren’t soldiers supposed to pay attention to their instincts?”
He let that penetrate for a moment. “You’re right. The smart ones do, anyway.”
She abandoned watching the sky an
d turned toward him, arms crossed. “At first I didn’t want to come here. But I’m glad I did.”
Dylan kept his gaze on the scenery. He sensed if he wanted to understand her, he couldn’t force a relationship…even a casual one. Relationship? Oh, hell no. He wasn’t starting a relationship here. Just making conversation.
“Good,” was all he said.
She returned to her contemplation of the outdoors, arms still crossed.
“You didn’t want to come here today either,” she said.
“Very perceptive.”
“Okay, why did you?”
He’d never held things close to his chest…not until his world had imploded months ago.
He drew in a breath of cold air. “Fletch said he’d kick my ass if I didn’t.”
Her musical laugh stirred need inside him, an low undeniable desire.
“Emily and Fletch can be very persuasive,” she said.
“Yeah, that’s for certain.”
“So…you know Fletch from your military days, right?”
“We’ve known each other for a few years. Worked on a team.”
“Uh-huh. Delta?”
He turned toward her this time. “Yes.”
“Which branch of the military did you come from?”
“Air Force. I was a PJ for awhile.”
“Pararescue?” She turned full toward him, arms akimbo. “That’s amazing.”
He shrugged. “Always wanted to be in Pararescue. My uncle Brice was one.”
Her brows knitted. “And now you’re not in the military anymore?” Her gaze slid over him. “Unless you’ve been somewhere that requires a cover…”
“I’ve been out nine months.”
Her gaze stayed curious, but also worried. She tucked that already short hair behind her ears and those earrings twinkled. He’d never paid attention to women’s earrings before, but for some damned reason hers fascinated him.
Wonder what she’d do if I kissed those ears? Probably slap me.
His cock stirred, and he gritted his teeth. Keep it together, asshole.
“Nine months?” she asked. “You didn’t retire. You’re too young.”
“I was close to the end of my current enlistment. So when that was up, I got out.”