Bound to You: A Military Romance (You and Me Series Book 3)

by Tia Lewis

Matthew’s jaw tightened then loosened. “Oh hell. Sorry, Meleyna, you’re right. I’m too defensive about my PTSD. Sometimes I wish—but that isn’t right. It doesn’t honor the others that fought and died there. I was luckier than many.”

  “I think the one being the douche is you—to yourself. Who says you have to accept with grace the burdens put on you? Who says you have to shoulder the guilt for stuff that you didn’t start?”

  “My therapist, for one. On the first part of that. Otherwise, he tells me, it will eat me up. He told me we all change in life, that without transformation we are essentially dead. Mine, he told me, came sudden, giving me no time to adjust. But eventually, we all do.”

  “That’s a nice speech. It might even be wise. Still, it’s not fair what happened to you.”

  “Life isn’t fair. Just ask Jack. Oh right, you can’t—because he’s dead.” Matthew’s tone hardened with too much force. Parker’s head perked up then, and he whined.

  Matthew took a deep breath and released it slowly. “Okay, buddy. I’ll calm down. Look,” he said glancing at me. “I’m not always this much of a jerk. I’m still working on things. My therapist says it will get better and I’m determined to get better. I won’t let this PTSD control and take over my life. Shit happened, and I just need to move on and forget about it.”

  “I imagine this trip was more stressful than you thought it would be.”

  “Yeah,” he said with a slight grin. “For one thing, I didn’t expect to find you. And now I have.”

  “And you don’t know what to do with me.”

  “Oh no, sugar. I know what to do with you. The question is will you let me?”

  “Oh, so now you’re flirting with me?”

  “You’re just picking up on that now?” I laughed.

  “Well, I don’t know!” I grinned. “What do you have in mind?”

  “Sin,” he replied. “Pure sin.” He glanced at me, and the look in his eyes was far from playful. It was downright smoldering and threatening to melt my panties.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I might have to ask my pastor about that.”

  “Not if I have any say,” he said confidently. “Not at all.”

  Jesus.

  “You’re something else, Matthew.” I smiled looking out the car window.

  I jogged up the stairs to Mrs. Trenchant’s house and rang the bell. Mrs. Trenchant came to the door immediately and abruptly handed the lead to me.

  “I’m sorry to rush, but I really need to get Dave to the doctor.”

  “It’s okay. I understand.” I patted the head of the beautiful German Shepard, almost a twin in Parker’s markings. “Let’s go,” I said.

  Daisy pulled on her leash, whining and wagging her tail excitedly as we neared the SUV.

  “Kinda of excited, aren’t you, girl?”

  And then Parker put his paws against the window and barked at the female.

  Matthew rolled down the window.

  “What’s going on?” he asked.

  I held Daisy’s tail and looked underneath and groaned. “I think Daisy’s in heat. Tell me, is Parker neutered?”

  Matthew shook his head. “Nope.”

  “And I suppose he’s just like his owner.”

  He grinned.

  “Yep, all alpha, all the time.”

  “Great.”

  “This should be interesting, Put her in the way back, I’ll put Parker in the front, and you, lucky lady, get to sit in the back seat between them.”

  “Awesome,” I said sourly.

  The ride back was filled with Parker and Daisy pawing the upholstery and whining, with a few barks at each other too. Matthew drove with an intense, focused look on his face and barely said a word the entire way. Finally, we pulled up into the driveway, and I hopped out.

  “I’ll get Daisy into the kennel. Keep Parker here until I have her behind bars.”

  Daisy whined and pulled back toward the SUV. I worked against eighty pounds of muscle and determination to wrangle her into the kennel. But only having one arm was a handicap, and with one lunge Daisy jerked the lead from my grip. I fell forward awkwardly but managed to recover my footing. But by then Daisy had streaked past me toward the SUV.

  Matthew jumped out of his vehicle but didn’t close the door fast enough. Parker scrambled out the vehicle and dashed toward Daisy. One look at the oncoming Parker and Daisy took off in the other direction, past the house and up the trail that led into the woods.

  “Parker! Heel!” demanded Matthew. But Parker took off after Daisy.

  “Goddamnit!” Matthew swore.

  “Let’s get the dogs,” I sighed.

  “Parker and I are going to have to do some serious retraining,” huffed Matthew as we took off toward the escapees.

  “I’m sorry. Mrs. Trenchant should have told us she was in heat.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Damn. Times like this I wish I had four legs.”

  I led the way up the hard packed red clay trail, with Matthew following closely. “How far can they have gotten?”

  Matthew didn’t say a word as we both jogged the trail. I checked the brush on either side to see if the dogs veered off the path but didn’t spot evidence of that. Finally, I heard barking ahead and to the right. The dogs had turned onto the footpath to the cabin, and I pulled ahead to lead the way for Matthew.

  We broke into a clearing to find Parker trying to get close to Daisy, but she would have none of it. She moved backward or dashed to the side to avoid him.

  “Parker!” snapped Matthew. “Heel!”

  With a baleful glance to his master, Parker trotted to Matthew who took his lead. I double-timed it to Daisy and snatched her lead before she could take off again.

  Parker whined and rubbed his head against Matthew’s knee. He patted Parker’s head but didn’t give him any slack in the lead.

  “The lady doesn’t appear to be ready, boy,” Matthew said. “She was just teasing.”

  Matthew glanced around.

  “What is this place?”

  “It was a hunting cabin at one time. It was on the land when my grandfather bought the property.”

  “And what do you use it for?”

  “Nothing, right now.”

  “It looks pretty nice.”

  “It needs work.”

  “Hey, you are talking to a guy who lived two and a half years in a tent in the middle of a desert.” Matthew climbed the stairs and patted the wood beams that supported the porch roof. “Seems pretty sweet to me.”

  “Well, good. This would be your new digs.”

  “It would be?” he said with a smile. “Does this mean you’re thinking of taking me on?”

  The double meaning of Matthew’s words didn’t escape me, not when they were coupled with a sexy smirk. But after Daisy’s near escape, it was obvious to me I couldn’t handle all the physical demands of the job, especially since my grandmother was recovering from her own injuries. Still, did I really want to hire Matthew, to have him close, and all that would mean…what? Was I ready to finally move on? Was I ready to start something with Matthew?

  I nodded my head. “I’m giving it due consideration. There are only so many things I can do one-handed.”

  Matthew raised his eyebrows.

  “One-handed? Are you sexually harassing me?”

  “No,” I said, feeling my cheeks burn.

  “Too bad.”

  “Not yet. I’d have to employ you first before it would be considered sexual harassment. And only if you told me to stop.”

  “I’m not telling you to stop, am I?”

  “Not yet. We’ll see. Now as to the cabin, it needs a good clean up and some repairs.”

  “Hoorah!” said Matthew.

  I laughed. “What does that mean?”

  “No one knows. It’s just what Marines say when we take on a mission.”

  “Well, let me show you the place before you make a commitment.”

  I tied Daisy to a stout sapling
, she whined and strained at the leash, and then I took the stairs moving past Matthew. I pushed open the rustic cabin door and ushered him in.

  “Here are the living and dining areas.” I pointed to the large fireplace that was set with native stone. “Note the centralized heat for chilly nights.”

  “So noted. Love the furnishings.”

  My eyes swept the near empty room with chagrin.

  “Yes, the sparseness adds to the backwoods cache.”

  “Cache?” Matthew teased. “You seriously said ‘cache’?”

  “Yes. Some of us have a grasp of the English language. But as to lack of accouterments—”

  Matthew raised his eyebrows.

  “Hush,” I admonished. “As to the lack of furniture, I can shop my grandmother’s attic for the finest Harris heirlooms.”

  “Very fancy.” He watched as Parker sniffed through the room.

  “In the kitchen is the finest in turn of the century, and by that, I mean the 1900’s, appliances.”

  “Yes. The wood stove and the icebox are real draws.”

  “That’s why you would take meals at the main house.”

  “I wouldn’t dismiss my ability to handle a wood stove. When I was a boy scout, I learned how to handle fire.”

  I eyed Matthew, with his long, leans legs and muscled arms, and how he moved. Every motion was so fluid, strong, and just plain sexy. I would be an idiot to let this delicious man out of my sight.

  “Is that why you are so hot?”

  Matthew smiled wickedly. “Now you are sexually harassing me.”

  “Not nearly enough,” I said.

  “Tease.”

  I decided to get serious. My throat tightened with what I was about to say. “Grandma is right. We do need some help here, at least until she gets up to speed. It’s not just the animals. There’s a cabin that needs work, and clearing the underbrush and cutting wood if you are any good with a chainsaw. It’s way more than I do on my own.”

  “Look, you don’t know me, and I just confessed that I can’t be trusted to keep myself together without my dog.”

  “So?” I said, spreading my hands. “Look around. Animal heaven. Parker will have buddies, and you’ll have work. And don’t worry. If you get out of hand, you’ll have a ‘come to Jesus’ meeting with my shotgun.”

  Matthew grinned. “I’m trained to disarm any weapon. I think I can handle a shotgun.”

  “Admittedly, the shotgun is more of a threat to the squirrels, but it can do some damage.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “So, the accommodations don’t faze you?”

  “Nope.”

  “And that the pay is shit.”

  “Nope.”

  “Or that your boss may sexually harass you?”

  “Actually, I think that’s one of the perks.”

  “So, let’s go talk to my grandmother and see what she has in mind.”

  Matthew

  After Meleyna had led Daisy straining away from her leash and with Parker straining forward, we managed to get the two dogs back to the kennel. Meleyna secured Daisy in an empty kennel.

  “Oh, I almost forgot,” she said. She ducked into her office and came out with a whiteboard on which she wrote, “Don’t use this door run.” She jogged outside and clipped it to the door of the run the coyote invaded the night before.

  “What’s that for?” I asked.

  “The day clients will start arriving soon. They put up their own dogs, so I don’t want someone picking that run. It needs to be disinfected thoroughly.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Sergeant Matthew Rees reporting for duty. There’s not a single surface I can’t clean to a polish with my toothbrush.” I grinned at her. Meleyna pulled herself straighter and spoke in a serious tone.

  “Toothbrush, eh? That might be a little extreme and time-consuming. We do have a full range of doggie-safe disinfectants. That should help with the job.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I snapped to attention playfully and then winked at her.

  Meleyna smiled. “Let’s go see my grandmother.”

  We entered the house, and her grandmother gave both of us a piercing stare.

  “So, Meleyna Margaret Harris,” she said. “What cause do you have to make your grandmother worry so?”

  “Sorry, grandma, but it wasn’t me that woke you with a phone call. I’m more considerate of your sleep than that.”

  “No, it wasn’t you,” she grumbled. “But still. And what did the doctor say?”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “The doctor,” I interjected, “said she was benched for a week.”

  Meleyna glared at me, but I didn’t care. I’d be damned if I let her get worse by overexerting herself.

  “A week?” said Mrs. Harris. “And what are we supposed to do?”

  “Matthew is going to help us.”

  “At least,” I said. “Until you are both are on your feet.”

  “Good,” she replied with a wicked gleam in her eye. “That coyote did us some good.”

  “Grandma,” protested Meleyna. But she ignored her.

  “I can’t pay much. Room and board that’s for sure.”

  “Meleyna has shown me the accommodations.”

  “Good. If you bring in any business, you’ll get a cut of that, say forty percent.”

  I chuckled. “Say fifty, and you got a deal.”

  She laughed. “Sure enough, I like a man that doesn’t take the first thing offered.”

  “Then it’s settled.”

  “Good, then let’s eat.”

  “I’ll start breakfast,” Meleyna offered.

  “Sit down. I have this handled,” she said.

  Mrs. Harris then went to the oven and pulled out warming plates, pancakes, bacon and hash browns.

  “You shouldn’t have done this,” scolded Meleyna.

  “Nonsense,” she said. “I’m not the invalid you make me out to be. Besides, the doctor said I should exercise.”

  “Cooking breakfast is not exercise,” Meleyna replied. “Here, I’ll help you.”

  “No,” I cut in. “The doc said you are off the front lines. Let me help you with those platters, Mrs. Harris.”

  “That’s kind of you, Matthew.”

  Meleyna huffed. “I’m sure the doctor is being overcautious.”

  “And I’m sure,” I said unequivocally, “that the doctor has more medical training than you.”

  “Here, hun,” said her grandmother. She busily shoved a large amount of food on a plate and set it down in front of Meleyna. My eyes twinkled with laughter as Susan Harris buttered the pancakes and poured syrup over them for her.

  “Sure you don’t want to cut them up too?” said Meleyna sourly.

  “Hush, girl, and eat your food.”

  Parker dropped to the floor heavily and balefully stared at us. He gave a little whine which drew the attention of the three of us.

  “Your dog puts the meaning in the phrase ‘puppy dog eyes’,” Meleyna noticed.

  “My dog is being a jerk. He just wants bacon.”

  “I’m sure he’s hungry,” said Mrs. Harris.

  “We don’t usually eat breakfast this early. He can wait.”

  “So, no table scraps,” Meleyna asked.

  “His trainer, Max, was dead set on any dog getting table scraps. He’d tell me that dogs can get fat too, and there are too many human foods that are bad for dogs, and that they are finding new foods that are bad for dogs all the time.”

  “New foods?” she asked around a mouthful of pancakes.

  “Yeah. Macadamia nuts.”

  “No!” she said in mock horror. “The pups will be so disappointed. Who in hell would feed a dog macadamia nuts?”

  “Language,” Mrs. Harris said pointedly.

  Meleyna shot her a warning glance.

  I shrugged. “Californians?”

  Meleyna snorted. “That’s just cold.”

  “What?”

  “Blaming Californians for the
sins of the world.”

  “Nah. I blame Washington, DC for that.”

  Mrs. Harris and Meleyna exchanged looks, and I realized my joke hit too close to home to be funny. When was I going to realize that my sarcasm wasn’t always appreciated?

  “Daisy’s in heat,” Meleyna said breaking the tension.

  “How far along is she?”

  “Close enough to be interested in Parker here, but not close enough to let him breed her.”

  “Just as well. I know Patty wants to breed her, but she’s been mighty particular about the stud. Your dog AKC registered?”

  “Yes. Max was very interested in breeding a pure-bred line with the natural traits we look for in service dogs. That’s why Parker isn’t neutered. It’s part of my contract to let Max use him for stud if he proves to be a good service dog.”

  “Contract?” Meleyna inquired.

  “Yes. This service dog thing is serious business. I had to sign a contract that spelled out my responsibilities to Parker.”

  “Sounds like a marriage.”

  “I suppose in a way it is. We’re partners, aren’t we, Parker?”

  Parker raised his head and wagged his tail.

  “He’s a damned good one,” Meleyna replied.

  “Most of the time.” I gave a stern look at Parker. “But you broke training today, boy. We can’t have that.”

  Parker whined in response to the tone of my voice. He got on all fours.

  “Stay, Parker. Lay down,” I ordered. Parker flopped to the floor again, looking distinctly unhappy.

  “Don’t be too hard on him,” she said. “Daisy was literally irresistible.”

  My slight annoyance at Parker wasn’t just about Daisy though. Parker was acting against his training. He growled at the sheriff which he should not do, and he tried to comfort Meleyna, another thing he should not do. I wondered if I was stressing Parker too much with this trip and if it would be a good idea to go home. It was my job to look after Parker’s welfare as much as Parker’s was to alert me to my mood swings. I had too much invested in Parker and needed him too much to let the dog break his training.

  I glanced at Meleyna, who was pushing her food around on her plate. Her blond hair hung endearingly in her eyes as she stared at her food. She was everything and more than I had imagined while I was deployed. The smile that was plastered on the photograph was real, not something freeze frozen by a trick of the camera. And I got to see other things in her face: love and devotion for her grandmother, sexy smirks, and her face in the throes of passion.