by J. M. Madden
He was hungry for companionship, though. It had been years since he’d been in a serious relationship, and months since his last half-dressed fuck.
The first time he’d been with a woman, she’d said over and over again she’d be fine with his amputation, and that she’d seen injuries like his before. Well, apparently not, because as soon as she caught sight of his stub, she’d paled and shuddered, making an excuse to leave. The second time he’d been with a woman he’d left his jeans and leg on, in spite of her protests, and everything had worked out great, though it had felt shallow. Not as mind-blowing as his first fuck post-injury should have been.
Finding the perfect woman was probably an impossibility for him.
“I tell you what, we won’t go looking for girls. We’ll just go get a drink, and see if we can get a couple of the other guys to go, too. We’ll just hang out and watch the game tonight.”
Zeke sighed over the line but agreed. Chad promised to text him where and when once he’d talked to the others.
They settled on a new sports bar in the Flat Irons Mall area, to the north of the city, called Frog Dog. When they walked inside, it was busy. Chad looked at his buddies and saw the same trepidation he felt at being in a group like this, and he would have faded right back out the door if the hostess hadn’t arrived just then.
“Four of ya?” She smiled at them all then scanned the wipe-board on the podium. “This way, please.”
She started to weave through the noise toward the back of the restaurant. Chad was about to stop her, but she led them to a table along the back wall, a bit detached from the rest of the room. It still had a perfect view of the flat-screens. “Your waitress will be with you in a minute.”
He looked at the guys as they sat down. Ortiz took the chair farthest away from the crowd and backed it up against the wall even further, arms crossed over his chest. Chad, Zeke and Terrell took the other three seats, and they all tried to look relaxed, though they were all scoping out the numbers they’d have to take out to get to the exits. Zeke was the only one okay with the crowd at his back, because it was more comfortable than being under scrutiny for his scars.
Chad swallowed heavily and forced himself to sit back. Ortiz was the most newly discharged, and his tension was feeding that of the group. Five years after combat, Chad had learned to tamp down the urge to fight in crowds like this, but the younger soldier had a long road to go.
“Hi, guys! What can I get you?”
The cute little brunette waitress was unaware of the tension she’d just help dissipate. She grinned at Chad with a toothy smile, and her eyes didn’t flicker at all, even when she glanced at his hand.
“Ah, beer, please. What do you have on tap?”
“Well, Frog Dog is our in-house brew, but we have just about anything you’d like.” She reeled off a list of names but he chose the house stuff. Ortiz asked for a cola, Terrell the same as Chad. All eyes swung to Zeke. The waitress rested her hand on his shoulder, and his eyes widened when they looked up at her. Color leeched from his face.
“And what about you, big guy?”
His mouth worked, but he couldn’t articulate what he wanted. The waitress waited, though she had patrons calling her, until he finally wrenched out the name of a domestic brew. She smiled even wider. “I’ll get your drinks for you. Menus are there on the table and I’ll be back to get your order in a minute.”
She turned away and they all watched her cute little backside disappear into the crowd.
“F-fuck! I didn’t think I was going to be able to spit it out. She…surprised me.”
Chad grinned at Zeke. “But you worked it out, buddy, and she didn’t seem to mind at all.”
Zeke grinned and nodded.
Chad handed him a menu. “Decide what you want now so you can plan it in your head.”
Zeke ducked his head to the menu. Chad knew it would take him a few minutes to work things out, but he’d gotten faster over the past year. In Afghanistan, he’d been standing on the opposite side of a ten-foot cinder-block wall when a mortar exploded. He’d received a traumatic brain injury from the blast, then being buried beneath the rubble, and the bricks themselves had ripped up his face. The docs had patched him up, but he needed a few more surgeries before he would feel confident enough to respond to a woman like their waitress.
If he ever did. Surgery wasn’t the answer to everything. And it wouldn’t help his stuttering and delayed speech from the concussive injury to his brain. Only time and a lot of therapy would help that.
The waitress returned with their drinks and thumped them down in front of each of them, then pulled a pad from the back pocket of her jeans. “Do you guys know what you’d like?”
They all ordered appetizers and sandwiches. Zeke stumbled over his buffalo chicken sandwich order, but he powered through. It helped that the waitress smiled sweetly at him and didn’t seem in any hurry to leave. She nodded to the group when they were done. “I’ll get these in to the kitchen now. My name is Ember. If you guys need anything just give me a holler.”
Zeke twisted in his chair to watch her walk away. Chad thought it was funny the way he had reacted to her. “She’s cute.”
Zeke glanced at him and nodded, then picked up his beer and turned enough to watch the screen.
They all had a good night, and Chad was glad they’d gone somewhere different. The crowd was boisterous because the game was on fire, and the enthusiasm was contagious. Even Ortiz relaxed enough to enjoy himself and joke around.
Ember came back several times throughout the night to reload drinks and chitchat, and she made it a point to draw Zeke into the conversation. Although he seemed uncomfortable at first, he appeared to like the attention.
They left that night in much better spirits than when they’d arrived.
*****
At nine o’clock Saturday night, when Shannon peeked out the curtain, John was parked once again several yards down the street. Just barely within sight of the house. Shannon really appreciated that. When she’d returned from running errands, her machine had been blinking with a message. John had given her his house address, and Shannon was surprised at how close they had always been.
Denver was a huge city, so it was a real coincidence that they landed just a few blocks away. In the back of her mind, she had to wonder if his proximity to her was on purpose. He had no other family. The two of them got along well at the office. Definitely better than John and anybody else. He got along well with Duncan and Chad, but they were the exceptions. They acted more like brothers than anything. Everybody else he treated with, well, reserve.
Maybe he just couldn’t relate to people without being in charge. He was one of three partners, but Duncan definitely had the authority in the company. Maybe John just couldn’t figure out how not to be a commanding officer.
She backed away and tried to distract herself by watching some TV, but her eyes were drawn to the window instead. An hour later, she peeked out again. John’s truck was still in the same spot, and it had started to flurry. She was too far away to see inside the vehicle, but she hoped he stayed warm.
Guilt ate at her as she got ready to turn in. It didn’t seem right that she was in her comfortable bed, and John was out there in the cold. It probably wasn’t good for his back either. When he thought nobody was looking, he would often go through a series of stretches forward and back, and twist side to side. Always with a grimace on his face. It was painful to watch, and she always cringed along with him.
Curiously, though, she was not worried about the strange occurrences that had happened. John put her at ease. Well, when he wasn’t turning her on. She had given little to no thought to Mike. Certainly, the prison would have notified her if he had been released. Hell, she still had an active restraining order against him. His first parole hearing wouldn’t be for several years yet.
An hour later she still tossed and turned in bed. She appreciated John’s help too much to leave him out there any longer. Snatching her cell
phone off her bedside table, she scrolled through until she found his name.
He answered on the first ring. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Totally fine. You have to be cold, though. Why don’t you come in?”
Silence stretched on the other end of the line.
“How long have you known I was here?” he asked finally.
“Since last night.”
For a moment, there was just silence, then he snorted. “Fuck. Guess I wasn’t as sneaky as I thought I was, huh?”
Laughing outright, she sat up in bed. “Well, normally I’m sure you are, but I’m pretty paranoid recently. I’m, like, hyper-aware of a lot of things right now.”
“That’s understandable. But you don’t have to worry. Until we figure out what’s going on, I’ll be here every night.”
Her heart softened and tears came to her eyes. Her tight throat made it hard to speak. “I know, John. And I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that. I would appreciate it a lot more, though, if you were actually in the house and I didn’t have to worry about you freezing to death out there on the street. That would not be good for business.” Or my heart, she thought. “Come in. I have a spare bedroom, or you can sleep on the couch in the living room. Either one would be fine.”
John agreed with a sigh. “Okay. I’ll be over in a minute.”
Shannon slid off the bed and snatched her robe from the footboard, tossing her phone to the nightstand. She flicked on the lights when she padded into the spare bedroom. The bed already had fresh sheets on it, and the bathroom across the hall had clean towels.
Walking to the front door, she pulled it open just as he rolled up.
“Not very slick, am I? Can’t believe you spotted me.”
Shannon smiled at him, genuinely tickled that she had needled him. “Nope,” she agreed. “I promise I won’t tell the guys at work, though.”
Shannon thought he was maybe even blushing, but he turned away before she could confirm it, busying himself taking off his jacket. He tossed it on the bench by the door, and straightened in the chair. Shannon’s gaze was immediately drawn to the expanse of his chest, and the way the t-shirt strained against him, outlining his awesome pecs. Shannon felt her nipples react to the sight, and a heaviness settled low in her gut. It had been a long time, years actually, since she’d reacted to anybody with anything other than friendliness.
“Shannon?”
John’s voice made her realize she was staring, and she turned away abruptly. Snapping the light on next to the couch, she motioned with her hand. “You can stretch out here, or I have the guest room all made up and ready. It’s up to you.” Walking to the hearth, she threw a log into the grate, making the coals of the fire flare. It sucked greedily at the fresh wood.
“I think I may just stretch out here, if you don’t mind. There’s no need for me to mess up a bed.”
Shannon nodded her head, trying not to look at him directly. Moving to the hall closet, she pulled down a sheet and a couple of blankets.
“Actually,” she told him, “this couch is really comfortable. I slept on it for several nights when I was waiting for my bedroom furniture to get here. You should have plenty of room to stretch out.”
When she moved to make up the couch for him, he intercepted her. “I can do it, Shannon. Don’t worry about it.”
She bit her lip, trying to decide if she had offended him or something. Maybe he just wanted to make his own bed. That was fine.
“Okay. Good night, John. And thank you.”
He waved her thanks away and turned toward the couch. Shannon looked at him for a long moment before heading down the hallway. She had a feeling she was going to sleep better with him in the house, for more than one reason.
*****
John released the breath he had been holding until Shannon walked away. She was trying to kill him. She had to be. Telling him she had slept on the same couch. He definitely wouldn’t be getting any sleep tonight. Picking up the sheets, he inhaled. Shit. They smelled like her, too. Some kind of fabric softener mixed in with that smell she had, of womanliness and sweetness. John shook his head at himself and snapped the sheet out over the couch.
Hell, he may not even sleep. The whole point of him coming in was to watch her more closely, not stretch out on the couch. At least if something did happen he would be here. Maybe it was a good thing she’d spotted him. Even if it was damn humiliating.
*****
Shannon got up a few minutes early the next morning to start breakfast. She’d slept like a log the whole night through, knowing John was just a hallway away. When she walked out to the living room, she was not surprised to see him sitting in his wheelchair at the living room window. The sheets she had set out were refolded and sitting on the corner of the cushion. Had he slept at all?
She circled until she could see his face clearly. His dark eyes were sharp, but definitely a little heavy lidded. The beard on his jaw was thicker.
“Did you sleep at all?” she demanded.
John shrugged. “I cat-napped a bit. I don’t need a lot of sleep.”
Shannon frowned at him. She felt secure when he was in the house, but she didn’t want his health to suffer for it. Damn Mike for making her crazy like this. Maybe everything was just a coincidence, and nothing was actually going on. Maybe she was putting John through this for nothing. Guilt knotted her stomach.
“I’m sorry, John. Why don’t you go home and sleep for a while? I’m not going anywhere today. I don’t even know if you need to be here.” Running her hand through her hair, she crossed her arms over her tummy. “Maybe I’m just going crazy, and these things are just flukes. I mean, anybody could have turned around in my driveway. And my tires going flat could have been anything.”
John regarded her silently, letting her vent. “Did the tire shop find anything in the tires? Any reason for them to go flat?”
“No,” she conceded.
“So, why would two brand new tires go flat, unless somebody had deflated them by hand?”
Shannon had no answer to that, and it shut her up. Turning away, she headed in to the kitchen. Crossing the floor to the fridge, she pulled onions, green peppers, ham, cheese and eggs out, assembling an omelet. John rolled in silently behind her and positioned himself at the table in the same spot Chris normally sat at. She plunked a steaming cup of black coffee in front of him, and he curled his hands around it.
“Don’t worry about my sleep, Shannon. I’m fine. Until we find out what’s going on, I think I should be here.” He coughed into his hand before continuing. “This isn’t going to cause problems with a boyfriend or anything, is it?”
Shannon looked at him in surprise. Not because of the question itself, but because of the hesitancy she thought she heard in his voice. She turned her concentration back to beating the eggs. “No, no boyfriend.”
“Do you date? Any chance this could be another boyfriend doing these things?”
Shaking her head from side to side, she told him, “Nope.”
Pouring the onions and other ingredients in the pan, she tried not to let her hands shake. John asking about her dating life was a little strange, because she had been imagining dating him for so long.
“You do date, though?”
She nodded her head, still not looking at him. “Of course I date.”
“Why don’t you have a boyfriend, then?” he asked finally.
Pouring the eggs into the pan, she paused, then turned to look at him directly. Her heart was almost pounding out of her chest as she debated what to tell him. From the first moment she’d seen him, backlit by the sunlight from the office window, she wanted to know more about him. Six freaking months she’d been mooning after an impossible need. What the hell.
“I’m pretty picky in who I date, and I’m waiting for the right guy to ask me.” She stared at him for several seconds, then turned back to the stove.
*****
Unease curled through John’s stomach at her word
s. Hell, not even her words so much as her actions. Did she mean what he thought she meant? Was she telling him she was waiting on him?
She continued to stir the eggs, and he couldn’t see her face clearly any more. Clenching his teeth, he tried to control his galloping heart.
Breakfast, he was sure, was wonderful, but he barely tasted it. He was too busy tossing her words around. As soon as was polite, he made his excuses and headed out the door, promising to be back in a few hours.
John drove to his apartment in a daze. What had she meant, “waiting for the right guy”? He tried to twist things around, but he kept coming back to the same conclusion. With her words and the fact that she was staring at him so hard at the time she said it, only one thing was possible. Shannon was waiting on him to ask her out.
The thought chilled him to the bone.
What on earth did he have to offer a woman like her? She appeared to be his exact opposite. He’d grown up in foster homes and group orphanages with no family to speak of. She had grown up in rural Ohio with parents and siblings that loved her. When he signed up to go to war, she had signed up to go to college. And when he returned a broken man, she was growing into being a professional woman. What could they possibly have in common?
A matching desire to be together?
Snorting out loud, he turned into the parking lot of his apartment complex, automatically winding his way through the generic boxes to his own. He pulled past the spot assigned to him, with its very own bright blue handicapped sign, and slid into one further down, not marked. That fucking sign pissed him off to no end. He knew the anger was irrational. But he couldn’t help it.
Hell, he should thank them for having the spot at all. Not every business did.
John’s mood was sour, to say the least, when he finally let himself into his apartment.