by D. C. Stone
Samantha leaned against the wall, amused and a bit curious. If she wasn’t mistaken, DA visibly pulled his head higher and gave a little doggy nod.
“Good, boy. Now, ready?” Chris stood, snapped his shoulders back, and threw out an arm, indicating the yard before him full of boxes, bags, and piles of leaves. She hadn’t seen him bring any of that in. “Seek!” he commanded, and DA shot off like a rocket.
Doggy nose to the ground, DA moved past different items, dismissing them with barely a flick of his head, his path clear only based on the extreme sense of his nose. So in tune to watching DA, she let out a little yelp when a loud hissing noise sounded from Chris’s hand. He held a big red can out to his side. She bit her lips, about to admonish him, but stopped just in time.
Training. He knew DA would find whatever he’d hidden, but he wanted him to focus on his task, not be interrupted by whatever went on around him, including loud sounds. A perfect training aspect she hadn’t thought of. She’d been more about working on the dog’s mind and physical injuries, not in keeping his training regimen on what he’d known.
She turned back to DA as Chris let out another stream of air, the sound abrasive even to her own ears, to see DA’s ears flicker, his entire body buck, but not giving up on his task of finding whatever Chris had hidden. The sound kept up in sporadic intervals until DA sniffed twice more then sat directly in front of a large black bag. His little doggy eyes turned to Chris as one more hiss escaped. Then the yard was quiet for one, two, three seconds…
“Good boy!” Chris shouted, his voice a few octaves higher than she was used to hearing from him. He darted toward DA and whipped a red Kong up in the air. DA broke from his holding position and raced after his toy. Chris grabbed the bag, opened it, and pulled out a blue box that had TRAINING written in big black letters across its width.
DA came back with his Kong and Chris took it, throwing it in the air for his dog to chase again.
“Wow,” she said as Chris walked up to her, a big smile on his face, his straight white teeth stark against his olive skin tone, his eyes shining bright.
“He’s kind of great, isn’t he?” Chris asked.
“Kind of?”
His smile turned lopsided as he dropped the training box next to the back door. “Okay, he is great. Sorry for dropping in like this, but Hails said you were with someone and I wanted to see how Dumb Ass would do before I headed over to Ma’s.”
There was a lot to address in those two sentences, so she picked what she wanted to address first. “It’s not a problem. You know his recovery is based on you and I working together, so anytime you want to stop in and train with him, you’re more than welcome to. Honestly, I think he might be ready to head home with you soon if you think you’ll both be up for it.”
He lifted a brow, turning to lean against the wall with her, but facing her slightly. “What about if I just want to stop in and see you and him being here gives me a reason to do just that?”
Heat rose over her face and she pushed away from the wall to get a chance at the cool breeze. “I didn’t realize your mother lived in town, too,” she said, rather than responding to his question.
He shot her a look that said he knew exactly what she’d done. “Yeah, Ma and Pop still live down off Cedar Hill by the river. It’s been a while since I’ve been home, and I’ve put off this visit for too long.”
“You haven’t seen them since you got back?”
He shook his head.
“Chris,” she admonished. “Your mother must be worried sick, especially with why you’re home.”
He had the grace to look embarrassed then shook his head. “She doesn’t know all of it, but yeah, that’s my bad for not seeing her sooner. Ma,” he said, then hesitated before he continued, “has a way about seeing more than you want her to. She knows things before even you do, and I just didn’t … I don’t know if I’m ready to deal with that yet, but I know I need to go see her and Pop.”
“How long have you been home now? Three, four weeks?”
He lifted a shoulder. “Yeah, I know that makes me a horrible son.” He grabbed a lock of her ponytail and gave it a tug. “I’m going over today to fix that. But don’t think I didn’t miss that you never answered my question.”
“Chris,” she said, trying to figure out a way to let him down, give a reason why, without hurting this comradery they’d seemed to gain. “I don’t know if I’m open to anything other than what we have. I have a lot going on right now.”
He scooted an inch closer, both of them facing each other by the back wall. “Why do we have to put any kind of title on it? What if I just enjoy hanging out with you?”
She stared into his deep, whiskey-colored eyes and tried to see through the question. Was he playing some kind of game? Did he want to just get in her pants, or was it something more? Something less? Nothing she’d learned about Chris over the past few weeks told her he was anything like her ex, but she’d been down that road before, and it became a nightmare. One she never wanted to experience again. Sure, call her gun shy, but she’d barely escaped that scene with her life, and now that she had the freedom, and her dream of running her own business, it wouldn’t be so easy to get up and go again. This time, it might just break her completely. And she wasn’t so sure that heartbreak would be because of what she had going here with her new life.
And she couldn’t forget the fact that she wasn’t a single deal anymore. What would happen if, and when, Chris found out she was pregnant? Would he look at her with disgust? Like damaged goods?
Chris stared right back and seemed to come to a conclusion before she did, for he straightened and took a step closer. “Look, Red, I get we have a past, and I see something else haunting you. It sits behind your eyes.” He held up a hand when she opened her mouth. “No, hear me out. I see it sitting behind your eyes, and as much as I want to know what or who did that to you, I’m not going to ask now. I get with our history and the fact that we barely know each other now I don’t have that right to ask yet. But I’m also a straight shooter kind of guy, so I will say this…”
He leaned in and cupped the side of her neck, tilting her face to him so she had to stare into his eyes. “I want to get that chance to be able to ask. Not only that, I want to earn your trust to take care of those shadows. We can put the past behind us. We all have something we’re fighting against, some dark secret or demon we have to deal with on our own. Some of those demons, though, are too big to conquer on our own, so sometimes we need friends to help us get through it. I’m learning that now, and sweetheart, I want you to learn that, too. Let me be that friend to help you work on whatever you need to get through, and maybe we both could get through this dark period together.”
When did he become so sage? His offer was so very tempting. His heartfelt words sounded as if he truly wanted to be there for her. “You want to be friends?” she asked, her voice a little breathless.
His gaze darted to her mouth and back up, heat igniting within his eyes. “Hell no,” he said, his words rough, “but until I get you to trust me, I’m willing to work on us being friends before I work toward us being something more.”
Oh, boy. She grabbed his wrist of the hand attached to her neck. “Chris…”
He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly before stepping back from her and releasing his hold. Whistling, he patted his leg. “I need to get to Ma’s before I do something that shows you just how much I want that more between us to happen.”
She bit her bottom lip, kind of curious what that something would be.
“Red,” he warned, his heated gaze on her mouth. “That look on your face is telling me to move in now, but I want to show you I can be someone you trust. So, I’m going to say this: all you need to do is give me a word. But you need to make that conscious decision and let me know you’re ready for more. Until then, we’re friends.”
Still biting her lip, she nodded. DA joined Chris at his side.
“Christ, that look on your fa
ce,” he bit out and yanked open the door. “I’m going before I go back on my word. I’ll be back later to check in. If you need me, you have my number.”
She released her lip and nodded, following them in. Chris got DA settled, and she disappeared to an exam room, chastising herself as soon as the door closed. There was no reason to get involved with another type-A personality man like her ex. But something about Chris called to her, and she worried she wouldn’t be able to hold off for much longer.
Chapter Eleven
Chris headed down Broadway in his truck, listening for any rattling or weird noises. The Bronco had been sitting in his brother’s garage for the better part of him being gone, and despite assurance that Matt had been keeping it running every few months, sixteen years was a long time with no tender loving care for a car, so he wanted to be diligent and jump on top of any issues before they became a problem.
Despite the cooler fall weather, he’d removed the doors, deciding he wanted to feel the bite of the air against his body before the winter-cool air moved in. After that visit with Sam, and the hungry look that’d come over her face and what had passed through his mind on how he wanted to answer that look, he was grateful he’d thought ahead on the matter.
He didn’t understand his deep connection to her. He’d never felt something like that before. Sure, it could be because she was his lifeline when it came to DA, or even because she’d been the one he’d first relied on coming home, but he hoped it—and this was a first—was more than that. He’d never been one to form close attachments outside of his world in the military. Even though he had five other adoptive brothers, and they were technically considered his family, he’d never been able to connect with them on an intimate level. His brothers in the military were different. They all had a common thing that bonded them. The same goal they worked toward.
And even then, that connection had taken years to form and bind.
With Sam, the invisible thread that linked her and him together seemed to be almost instantaneous.
For the first time in a long time, he pictured himself settling. Building roots. Starting a family. And it wasn’t some nameless woman he saw at his side, but instead a red-headed, curvy woman with eyes the color of grass in the spring. And her scent … her scent was sweet, reminding him of the aroma of a freshly sliced peach. He’d never much cared for sweet things until he met Samantha. And now he craved her with an abundance that shocked him.
He slowed as the light ahead turned red and stopped, turning his attention to the shops along the street. The library that seemed always to be under construction, the old gas station that hadn’t changed in all the years he’d been away, and the café where Sam preferred her food.
A male with dark hair and thick black sunglasses came out of the library.
Chris stilled, everything coming to a stop around him.
No way…
He narrowed his eyes, wishing he was closer, wishing that man would remove his glasses so he could get another look at his face. The guy turned right, giving Chris his back, and walked away.
He tightened his hands on the steering wheel, wishing for quick parking, something nonexistent in this small village, so he could pursue on foot. Instead, he was forced to wait out the light.
Tayseer.
He would never forget that face. Had studied him for weeks prior to their mission, had seen his picture hundreds of times. Hell, he knew Tayseer’s face better than he knew his own!
What the hell was Tayseer doing in Nyack, New York? His hometown?
Why was he here?
The light changed and Chris urged the drivers to move faster than the twenty-five mile-per-hour limit. There’d been a video he watched not too long ago that explained traffic and how one car waited for another before moving itself. This was the cause of why things moved so slow. The video went on to explain that if all cars moved at the same time, traffic would be extinguished. A silly thought, seeing as shit often happened on roads, accidents and whatnot, but at that moment, and seeing Tayseer’s head disappear around the corner, he wished people would adhere to that thought process.
What felt like hours, but was most likely a minute later, Chris sped up to the corner he’d seen Tayseer disappear around and turned onto the residential street. Houses and tall trees thick with colorful leaves lined the stretch before him. The river sat directly at the end. What was missing was the man he’d sworn as his biggest enemy.
He slowed the truck to a crawl, eyeing each of the houses as he went by, looking for anything to give him a clue. A rental sign, a car with out-of-state tags, something saying someone was in the area who hadn’t been there before.
He drove up and down the street three times, but nothing. On his final pass, he pulled to the end and stared at the river, wondering if he’d been mistaken.
Sure, Tayseer wasn’t in the US government’s custody anymore, he’d somehow escaped, which was a whole other clusterfuck for how that had happened. But there was no reason to believe one of the world’s most wanted terrorists ran around in his backyard, in a tiny town outside of New York City.
He could only deduce he had been seeing things, something the doctors in Germany had warned him of. They cautioned jumping to conclusions, told him to speak to a professional while he was home, and to take it easy, but he hadn’t thought any of that would affect him. He knew his mind, understood what his body could take. He’d pushed both to the brink of collapse many times.
But maybe it was time to take a breather for a few days and get some rest. He could have half-scared someone out of their mind rushing up on them, with him thinking they were Tayseer.
Shaking off the lingering feelings of unease, he turned his truck around and headed through the back roads to his parents’ house. The further he moved away from the place he thought Tayseer to be, the more his shoulders loosened and the throb behind his eyes slowed.
The white and black colonial rose before him as if a beacon was telling him where home lay. Kind of compared to a lighthouse giving ships a place of comfort. The twin beams flanked the front door and were wrapped in orange and gold garland, bringing the black trim of the house out in stark relief.
His mother had always been a stickler for decorating during the holidays, giving each of her boys something to look forward to, even though he had always thought she enjoyed it just as much. Each holiday, decorating had turned into a day-long event where it was all hands-on deck, each of them given a task to get the house up to par. They’d often ended the day with a home-cooked meal and s’mores by the firepit out back.
Some of the best memories he’d always cherish. Time spent with his adoptive family, one he’d always be grateful to no matter if they weren’t the same blood.
Karen and Daniel Gonzalez had done the unthinkable and adopted six different boys, all from different backgrounds, after coming upon them. Karen had worked for social services and when she found out she couldn’t have children of her own, she refused to let that get her down and worked on resolving the matter in her own way.
She’d taken him in at a young age and given him the life he’d always longed for. One filled with warmth and discipline, love and understanding. His adoptive parents had shown him it didn’t matter where he came from, and instead, the only thing to focus on was where he was going.
He’d never looked back.
And he couldn’t be more grateful to the two wonderful human beings inside that house.
He hopped out of his truck and crossed the yard, running up the steps two at a time like he had done as a kid, before rapping on the door twice and entering.
Even though the door was unlocked as if expecting company, it was an empty nest and he didn’t necessarily want to walk in on anything that would cause him to wash his eyes out with bleach. His parents were known for sneaking kisses in the most awkward places, making any one of the boys finding them in the pantry, the coat closet, or the downstairs half-bath groan and wish they had hot pokers for their eyes.
&nb
sp; As a grown man, he could appreciate them having that romance after being married all these years, but as their son, there were some things one did not wish to see.
He walked into the foyer and unlaced his boots, tossing them to the side with his pop’s, before walking down the hall. A black-and-white photo above the mud-mat caught his attention. The six of them, the Gonzalez troop of his brothers and he, had their arms linked over each other’s shoulders, each smiling into the camera and tilting their heads toward one another. His ma had taken that photo just after he’d signed up to join the military. Seemed like eons ago.
“Ma? Pop?” he called.
“In here,” Pop responded, sounding as if he stood in the family room. Spices and meat scented the air, making Chris’s stomach grumble appreciatively. Roasted pork. Awesome.
Chris stepped into the hall where the family room and the kitchen opened up into each other, something his brothers and his pop had helped with when Ma asked for an open floor plan between the rooms. She explained she wanted to still spend time with the men in her life when she cooked her big family meals and asked Pop to get a contractor on it. It’d taken a month, but the space worked for all involved. Them—the boys—in getting to pop in and out of the kitchen, taking snacks and samples of what she cooked as they went, and for Ma, so she could still interact with the men in her life as they watched the games.
To the right sat the family room, a wide space that held two leather couches and two recliners, all facing one another in a blocked-off pattern, the focus before them being a large brick fireplace and above it, a large flat-screen TV. Pictures of their lives and the memories they had created littered the walls until practically none of the burnt-orange paint from behind shone through.
Windows lined full length along the back wall of the house, showcasing the river that ran behind and the large expanse of a green yard.
To the left was the kitchen with white cabinets and a large, dark-gray island in the middle. A small kitchen table sat off to the side adjacent to the windows. Another larger table was in the dining room, the one they used for holiday meals and bigger crowds.