He looks at me. “Do you like these?” I nod. “Do they fit?” I nod again. “Then let’s get these. It’s a good brand and they’ll wear well.”
“But—”
He yanks the boot off and slips my flip-flop back on. “Grace, remember that billionaire thing we were talking about earlier?”
I wrinkle my nose. “Thought you were only a millionaire now.” He laughs at my sarcasm. “Besides, like you said earlier, none of it does you any good right now. We need to be careful.”
He stands and blows out a breath. Looking around, he lowers his voice. “In the cabin, I have a hundred thousand dollars in my safe. In my home at Ft. Bragg, I have the same. In various banks across the country, in different states, I have safe deposit boxes.” My mouth falls open. “Get the boots you like. Warm socks. Hoodies. A coat. Got it?” I nod, my mouth still hanging open.
“Why do you keep so much?”
Grabbing the box of boots, he takes my hand and leads me to the men’s department. He quickly finds a pair of thirteens. “I’m a ‘just in case’ kind of guy. When we get to the cabin, I’ll show you other ‘just in case’ measures I took when it was being built.”
He sits down and pulls up the legs of his sweats and kicks the tennis shoes he’s wearing from his feet. He pulls one boot on his bionic foot and grabs the other to make sure they’re both a good fit.
“Look at his leg, Mom. That’s so cool!”
We both turn to see a boy of about ten standing at the end of the aisle. His mom jerks him away, giving us an embarrassed smile, then does a double take. I step in front of Link and give her an ‘it’s okay’ look back before pretending to be searching for more shoes.
“We need to get out of here,” he says, tying up his tennis shoes again. “Let’s grab coats quickly and go.”
As we walk by a wall of socks, I grab us each five pair. In the coat department, we both find a warm one in two minutes flat. I grab a couple hoodies and more sweats for Link as well as a couple pairs of gloves and two wool toboggans. Finding an empty buggy, I throw everything in it. “I’ll pay. You go to the car.” He nods, hands me his wallet and walks out.
Unable to steer it well, I pull it to the check-out counter where a very friendly clerk helps me unload. From the corner of my eye, I see the woman and boy again, this time joined with a man. I pretend to ignore them as they walk closer, but listen closely. I hear the woman say, “I don’t see him now…”
Struggling with the wallet, I manage to get out enough money to pay, then throw the bags in the buggy. Thanking the clerk, I pull the metal cart, almost making it to the door.
“Miss!”
I keep going.
“Miss!”
Then I nearly scream when a hand falls on my shoulder.
I stop, take a breath and turn to see the woman immediately behind me. “Yes, can I help you?” I ask as pleasantly as I can.
She looks embarrassed. “The man you were with. The man with the prosthetic…”
My throat closes. “Yes?”
“I know this seems silly, but … where did he get it?”
I nearly slump against the cart and for a moment, I feel lightheaded. Then I simply feel silly for my paranoia. I give her the name of the company, and answer a few questions she has. She introduces me to her husband and I learn he lost his lower leg in a car accident. He’s an avid skier and wants to get back on the slopes. I take a few minutes to answer their questions and give a couple suggestions on his options.
I start pushing the cart again in a ‘hint hint’ kind of way. “Well, nice talking to ya’ll.”
“I love your accent,” she says and I nearly groan. “Are you from Texas?”
I jump on it. “Yes. Austin. I hate to say goodbye, but I really need to go. Got a long drive home.”
She opens her mouth like she’s going to ask another question and I give her a quick wave and simply turn my back. My momma would spank me if she saw me being so rude, but good grief, couldn’t the woman take the hint?
I find Link in the Durango tapping his hand against the steering wheel and holding the dog in his lap. The minute he sees me, he opens the door, holding the dog against his chest. “Jesus, Grace. What took you so long?”
I smile at the picture he makes holding the little dog. “Playing twenty questions about prosthetics.” I tell him the story as he hands her to me and begins tossing bags in the back seat.
“You okay?” he asks, looking at me closely. “You’re starting to sweat again.” I huff and get into the passenger seat. “What? It’s okay to sweat.”
Terrific. Now I’m a giant pooping, farting, squirting/peeing and sweaty giraffe. I can’t help it. I giggle at the mental picture.
“Are we almost there?” I whine when he gets back in the car.
“Almost. We need to pick up some food and a few groceries. How about I drop you off at the store, run and pick us up dinner and meet you back in the front in fifteen minutes?”
I offer him my fist and he bumps it.
“That’s my girl.”
Standing in front of the grocery, I shiver and curse myself for not pulling on the boots. It’s fully dark now and my feet are freezing. My fingers are too. And where the hell is Link?
Another few minutes pass before I see him pull up. I heave out a breath, realizing I still keep believing he’s going to leave me. But he’s there, and he’s grinning as he hops out to help me load.
“You know, you’re doing so great with your leg. No one would ever know there’s anything but flesh and bone beneath your pants.”
He kisses me. “I had a very good teacher. She made me do all this crazy stuff, but turns out it made a big difference.”
I look past him and see the outline of the mountains. “I really hate to ask this again, but are we almost there?”
“Yep. Less than thirty minutes, give or take.”
I get into the car and inhale the wonderful scents of our dinner, stroking the dog as she crawls into my lap. I pull her to my nose, rubbing her soft fur. “You’re getting a bath when we get there, young lady,” I tell her and she licks my chin. “So am I. Right after I swallow more pain meds.”
Link must have heard that last part, because he’s looking at me with concern. “Bad?”
I shake my head and fib. “Better than yesterday.”
He throws the Durango into drive and mutters, “Liar.”
Chapter 11 – Duffy
As we get through Kremmling and closer to home, the black closes in around us. I glance over at Grace again and watch her jaw tense as we hit another pothole. I curse the road when we hit another one.
“Sorry. Roads are bad here right after winter.”
She gives me a tight smile. “I’m okay. Really.”
She’s a terrible liar, but I let it go. She can’t have more pain meds for another hour.
Hoping to take her mind off things, I begin to talk. “Want to know my favorite part about HALO jumping?”
She reaches for my thigh. “Not splattering on the ground?”
Adorable.
“Just before we jumped, the doors would open and we’d walk to the edge.” I remember it. Feel it. The oxygen mask tight against my face. The cold starting to seep in. “The night jumps were the best. See those stars?” I point up and feel her follow my direction. “Imagine thirty thousand feet closer to them. And the moon. It was like you could reach out and touch it.” She sighs and relaxes back in her seat, her hand stroking my thigh. “Then, you’d look out further and realize you can see the curve of the earth. Imagine it. Imagine looking out at nothing and everything. Then jumping. Falling. Trusting your chute. Watching the earth grow bigger with each second that passes.”
“You miss it.” It’s a statement, softly given.
“Yeah.”
She sighs. “It’s amazing all that you’ve done. You’re twenty-eight years old and been all over the world, fought battles you can’t talk about, probably saved America from threats we never heard of.”
If only she knew.
“Me? Look at you. You’re twenty-four and are a registered nurse, a licensed physical therapist traveling the country helping people get well, looking for adventure and …”
“Peace,” she fills in for me.
I laugh. “You certainly met the wrong guy if you’re looking for peace.”
Her fingers squeeze my thigh. “Yeah, you make me want to go ‘ommm’.”
“How did you do it? Get through so much school playing college ball. Must have been tough.”
“I took enough advanced classes in high school that I actually graduated as a sophomore. I’d gotten the volleyball scholarship, so I planned to attend college all four years and it gave me a lot of wiggle room to take the classes I knew I’d need for physical therapy while I was studying for my BSN. I blew my knee in the first game of my senior year, so I was out for the season. I decided to graduate ETSU after the fall semester instead of spring, so I was ahead of the curve there too.”
Smart girl. “What was your graduating GPA?”
I feel her grin. “Three point eight. I always sucked at math, so it pulled me down.”
I shake my head at her. “Why physical therapy on top of nursing?”
“Well, I’ve been nursing my dolls and Barbie’s since way back. Nursed my pets, even when they didn’t need nursing. But I was so fascinated with how the body works and what happens when it stops working. How to fix it. So physical therapy was a huge draw too. I knew I’d have a better chance of getting into PT school and would do better once I got there after I was a nurse. Plus, nursing would help me pay for PT school better. A lot better than working at the grocery store for minimum wage. And I could be part-time, PRN, work just about anywhere. To my way of thinking, it just made sense.”
I think about the thought process she just talked me through. “It makes very good sense.”
“I was lucky with the scholarship. It didn’t pay for everything, but I got some academic scholarships too. My parents aren’t poor, but they just couldn’t pay for college outright, so I would have needed to work and take classes at a slower pace.”
“But you were a baller.”
“Yeah. Love me some volleyball. Liked basketball too, but volleyball has always been my favorite.”
“What was it like growing up in Tennessee?”
I feel her smile. “Wonderful. You see all the TV shows and think we’re all redneck hillbillies running around with three teeth.” She laughs. “Not that there aren’t plenty of those, but almost everyone is just good, hardworking people who love their families and care about others. We might not all dress in Chanel…” I smile at her poke at my mother, “…but we’re trendy in our own way, enjoy nice things in our own way. It’s nice there. Actually, it’s more than nice. I love it. I miss it. I miss my family.”
Letting go of the steering wheel, I squeeze her hand for just a second before switching on the four-wheel drive of the Durango. We’re on the last leg, which is basically straight up. “You’ll get to see them again,” I tell her and send up a prayer that I’m telling her the truth. “Just imagine how happy they will be to see you alive and well. It will be one hell of a reunion.”
She squeezes my thigh again. “Look at you being all positive.”
I wait until I navigate a hairpin curve before I answer. “I can be positive. Just isn’t a natural trait. Especially with the job I’ve been doing the past few years. We’d leave on a mission not expecting to come back.” I grip the steering wheel tighter. “We’d make sure our insurance policies are paid up. We’d make sure our wills are up to date. And we’d go. Usually, we’d make it back. Maybe not all of us, but most.” I force my fingers to relax on the steering wheel again and turn into my driveway, pulling up to the gate. “Until that last mission.”
Her fingers squeeze me again.
I type in the code and wait for the gate to open, then pass through and watch it close behind us, for the first time on the trip, feeling the briefest glimpse of true optimism. I search for the cabin, not yet seeing it through the trees.
I round a curve and see the outline. It’s dark hulky form darker than the trees.
“We’re home,” I say, and Grace leans forward, trying to see what I see.
When we’re closer, she sits back and blows out a breath. “Cabin. Right.”
Chapter 12 – Grace
Pulling up to the mammoth structure, I don’t know if I should roll my eyes or just laugh. One thing’s for certain, the Duffys need an advanced class on normal. Even down-to-earth Link seems to be spatially challenged.
“Before you say anything, I only built it this big because I liked the idea of having my buddies and their families over. I only open up the top floor when people are here.”
I wait for him to hop out of the Durango and punch some buttons on the garage. One of the four doors rumble open and he gets back in and drives us inside. I look around. There’s a four-wheeler, skis, snowboards, a snowmobile, a boat and a truck all sitting inside.
Good grief.
“Have you had many visitors?”
His jaw grows tight. “My buddy Darren and his wife and kids came once. Camille. A few others in my family. Haven’t had it that long. I’d been looking forward to…” He shuts off the car and opens the door. “Come on. Let’s get everything upstairs.”
“I’m going to take Fate outside to potty,” I tell him and snap on the pretty pink leash to the pretty pink collar I got her. “I’ll clean up her mess tomorrow. Promise.”
He walks over and snatches Fate from my lap, holding her up to him at eye level. “Are you going to make a mess, huh? Are you?” I about melt at the cuteness of it all when her little pink tongue swipes up his nose. He sits her on the concrete floor and steps over to a cabinet. “Take this flashlight and watch your step, it’s a steep drop off back here.”
I head to the open garage door, cursing myself again for not changing into the boots. Or putting on the jacket. Or the gloves.
Outside, it’s crazy dark and I’m thankful for the flashlight’s illumination. I find a patch of grass and lead Fate, who isn’t so sure about this whole leash thing, over. “Don’t worry, pretty girl,” I sing-song to her. “You’ll get used to it.”
In the distance, an owl hoots and I’m reminded of home. While Fate sniffs around in search of the perfect potty spot, I shine the light around. Link was right, we are literally on the side of the mountain. I’m not sure how the house doesn’t slide right off.
Fate kicks at the grass and I sing-song, “Good girl” before heading back into the garage. I wish I could see the outside better, but all I can see are the roughhewn logs stacked up tight.
Inside, Link is pulling more stuff from the Durango and heading up the stairs. I grab what I can and follow him up and then just stop … my dream home spreading out in front of me.
Instead of logs lining the walls on the inside, there’s a combination of wood and stone. A warm taupe color covers most of the walls, coordinating beautifully with the dark wood floors that coordinate beautifully with the warm oversized furniture.
The space is open, marrying the living room with the kitchen and dining area. A huge stone fireplace takes up most of one wall, sweeping up to the cathedral ceiling. A marble topped bar separates the space and, on the opposite side, there is a wall of floor to ceiling windows.
I’m speechless. If I had all the money in the world and could build one house. This. This would be it.
I turn when I hear Link coming down a short hallway, from what I’m guessing is the master suite. I notice a sweeping set of stairs leading to the upper floor, but then get distracted when Link sweeps me off my feet.
I giggle as he walks to a set of double doors that I presume is the cabin’s main entrance. He opens them, steps outside, turns and steps back in. Then he kisses me. “There, it’s official. Can’t not carry my bride over the threshold.”
I twist the ring on my finger with my thumb, then lay that hand on his cheek.
“That was very gallant of you, dear husband.”
His incredible eyes search mine and I see in them what he won’t say. I wish it were true.
I wish it were true too.
Pulling my gaze away, I look around us as he lowers me to my feet. “I wish I could express how much I adore this house. Everything about it is perfect.”
I look at him; see the pride on his face. “I bought the property about three years ago and I started planning the house between missions. I worked with an architect I know, and it took a while, but it really turned out better than I envisioned it.”
I walk over to the kitchen area, running my fingers down the marble, noticing the fine layer of dust. The grocery bags are all lined neatly down the counter. “What all do we need to do before we can begin the honeymoon?” I wiggle my eyebrows at him and he laughs.
“I’ve got one more trip from the car, then I’ll light a fire. Why don’t you put away the groceries, then we’ll eat.” He looks at his watch. “You need to take your medicine in about half an hour. Then we’ll see how you’re feeling. We might have to take a honeymoon raincheck. You look really pale.”
I shake my head and walk up to him, lift up and touch my lips to his. “This is our wedding night. I want you inside me. Skin on skin. Tonight.”
Chapter 13 – Duffy
As I jog down the steps for the last load of our stuff, the words of “We’ve Got Tonight” play through my head.
I am going to marry that woman.
I will put a beautiful ring on her finger.
I will take her on a wonderful honeymoon.
I will make love to her until neither of us can move.
Then I will sit with her on a porch and hold her hand for the rest of our lives.
Because, dammit, that’s the way it has to be.
The hair stands up on the back of my neck and I lean against the rear gate of the Durango. It’s my gut kicking me in my love struck ass.
Badass - The Complete Series: A Billionaire Military Romance Page 29