by J. M. Madden
They trailed back into the restaurant, Chad in front and Zeke covering Diego’s back. As soon as he walked in, Ember’s curvy shape caught his eye, disappearing through the swinging kitchen door at the back of the restaurant.
Terrell grinned as they resettled at the shadowed table farthest from the bar. “Find anything good out there in the snow?”
“Hell, no,” Diego muttered.
Having the wall at his back immediately seemed to put him at ease. Zeke was glad Diego had been able to control his anxiety. Integrating into crowds was one of the most difficult things to deal with when they came back home.
A plate thumped down in front of him, and when he glanced up, he was eye level with Ember’s plump breasts in the white Frog Dog T-shirt. Awareness skittered through his body, settling in his groin. She turned and set Terrell’s plate in front of him, then the other two. When she was done, she quite naturally rested her hand on Zeke’s shoulder. He fought not to tense up like a Motherfucker.
“I kept it warm until you got back, but if it doesn’t taste right let me know and I’ll get you a new order. Is there anything else you need?”
They all shook their heads and she faded away through the crowd.
He drew a deep breath and then another, fighting the draw to her that would never be satisfied. Deliberately, he picked up his sandwich. Perfect, as always.
“That was nice she kept it warm for us,” Chad murmured.
They all nodded. Nothing else was said as they plowed through the food. Ember paused long enough to make sure everything was okay and drop off another round of drinks, then she was on the run again. The crowd picked up and once again it seemed like they were short handed. When he finished with his meal, he made sure to police his trash and mess so that she didn’t have to, piling it all on the plate. Then, nursing his fresh beer, he turned his chair enough to pretend to watch the giant flatscreen over the bar. In actuality, he watched Ember. She was more fascinating to him than anything on TV.
Eager to laugh, she charmed the customers with her wit and personality. The women seemed to sense that she wasn’t a threat to their men, even though the men watched her curvy ass whenever they thought they could get away with it.
There seemed to be a tiredness to her today, as if something weighed on her mind. More than once she glanced at the kitchen door, as if waiting for somebody to come through it. She didn’t wear a wedding band, so he knew she wasn’t married, but maybe she was involved with someone. The cook, maybe?
Aggravation tightened the muscles across his chest as his ever-helpful mind flashed pictures of her locked in an embrace with some unknown man. He wanted to beat the shit out of him, whoever he was.
More than once, she glanced at him and caught him staring, but he couldn’t force himself to look away. He wanted her to sit down and talk to them, but he didn’t want to see the disgust on her face as he tried to speak. Maybe it wouldn’t play out the way he thought it would. She’d never been anything but kind to all of them.
He didn’t force himself to come in here every week for her kindness, though.
The crowd finally began to thin, and the next time she swung around with fresh drinks, Chad pulled out an empty chair from the table beside theirs and held his hand out in invitation. She seemed surprised, but grateful as she sank down onto the seat. Zeke could have kissed his meddling buddy, and cursed him. Every muscle in his body tightened as her heat invaded his space.
“Oh, that hurts so good.” She arched her feet and wiggled her ankles. “Thank you. I needed a break.”
“You need to delegate,” Chad told her bluntly. “It seems like you do seventy-five percent of the work in here, though there are other people working.”
Ember winced and looked around. The other waitresses were busy, but still managed to stop and talk. “You’re right, I know. But I’m managing tonight. I have to cover all the holes.”
Chad shook his head, grinning. “No, you have to manage what you have. You can’t do that running around trying to put out every fire. You need to park yourself and direct.”
She smiled and Zeke caught his breath. This close he could see every pore in her smooth skin, and her dark brown eyes had golden flecks in them that sparkled when she smiled. Her dark bangs curled over her forehead to rest on her brow, damp at the temples. “Like the military?”
Chad smiled and nodded. “It’s worked very well for hundreds of years. You should try it.”
Her eyes dimmed. “My dad tells me the same thing, but I feel bad when I tell people what to do. It’s just not my style. Are you guys all military?”
Zeke nodded. “Former.”
Her gaze swung in his direction. One lone finger reached out and teased at the edge of his straining T-shirt sleeve, tracing the bottom of the anchor, globe and eagle tattoo. “Are all of you Marines?”
Goose bumps pebbled his skin from her gentle touch, and his jaw ached from being clenched. His dick hardened painfully as her fingers drifted away, and he shifted in his chair. She switched her attention to the other three at the table before she could see his reaction.
Chad nodded, but Terrell grimaced. “You couldn’t pay me to be a jarhead. Navy.”
She grinned at Terrell. “I have a cousin in the Navy. She loves it.”
He winked at her and rocked back in his chair.
“Best place to be.”
They all laughed and disagreed, but it was what they’d done many times before.
Ember laughed along with them. “Looks like you’re in the minority, here.” Terrell shrugged and continued to smile, content.
*****
Ember realized as she sat there that she really liked these guys. They were thoughtful and kind, and weren’t talking to her just to get into her pants. She wanted to touch Zeke again. Feel that power beneath her hand. “So, what do you guys do now? Other than hang out in my restaurant every Saturday night?”
Chad, the cute one with sharp blue eyes and Texas twang in his voice, leaned forward. “We run an all-veteran investigative service, and provide corporate and personal security.”
Ember raised her brows, genuinely surprised. “Really? That’s interesting. My dad’s a former Marine and worked for a while at Denver PD. He’d probably like to meet you. He’s part owner of this place, but he’s not here tonight. Maybe some other time he can have a drink with you.”
“We’d be honored.”
“I’ll let him know when he comes back,” she promised. “He loves meeting other vets. It’s why he bought this restaurant. He wanted a place he and his buddies could be comfortable in. The guys from his company all come out once a year just to hang and reminisce.”
She smiled sadly. “Unfortunately, that’s kind of why he’s been off for the past few nights. One of his good friends took his own life last week.”
The men fell silent, then Chad offered their condolences. She shrugged. “I didn’t know him, but it’s really tearing my dad up. He hasn’t been sleeping or eating right, and he’s been off work for several days now.”
She was afraid to tell them that she lived in fear that she would go home one night and find he’d done the same thing.
No, he’s taking care of Drew. He wouldn’t do that in front of his grandson.
Chapter Two
Duncan glanced at his ringing cellphone on the floor beside the weight bench, but didn’t recognize the number. If it was important, they’d leave a message. He continued to butterfly the forty pound weights, working his pectorals. The burn felt good. He’d gotten out of the habit of exercising the way he used to, and his body was starting to show it. Just going a tad soft around the middle, a little less cut. But that little bit of definition he was losing now would be five times harder to put back on than it used to be.
Damn, it sucked getting old.
Preston punched a weight bag hanging from the corner ceiling, and didn’t even seem to be breathing hard. But then, Duncan had twelve or thirteen years on him.
Chad pounded along on
the treadmill, steel blade on his left leg flashing. He seemed to be faster now than before he lost his leg, years ago.
His back twinged as he rolled to a sitting position, and his hip popped, painfully. He’d have to use the Jacuzzi tonight when he got home. If he didn’t, he’d be stiff as a board tomorrow. Pushing to his feet, he carried the weights to the rack against the wall and dropped them into place.
“Hey, Dunc, you seen Palmer today?” Chad gasped out.
Duncan swiped his face with a towel as he walked to the treadmill.
“No, not today. He said he’d be in tomorrow for a while, but he’s looking for a gift for Shannon.”
Chad grinned and glanced at him. “She’s got him so pussy-whipped.”
A half-full bottle of water hit Chad high on his back, jolting him off stride. Only natural athleticism kept him from landing in a heap at the bottom of the treadmill. He slapped the red button on the console and looked around.
“Fuck you, Lowell.”
Chad laughed when he saw Gunny Palmer sitting in his sport chair a few feet away, dressed in workout clothes.
“Well, you are. Did I see you carrying her fabulous, bejewelled purple purse the other day?”
Palmer clamped his heavy jaw, dark eyes narrowing. “Yes, you did. I’ll carry the damn thing everywhere she goes if she wants me to. You know why?”
“Why?” Chad asked, laughing.
“Because I get to go home and crawl into bed with her at the end of the day. And if she’s fucking happy, so am I.”
Duncan punched Chad on the shoulder. “I think he’s got a point.”
Chad flipped them both the bird and headed for the bathroom at the far end of the room. He turned before he left, though, and smiled. “I am happy for you, Gunny. You two are perfect for each other.”
Palmer nodded once. “Thanks, Chad.”
Duncan looked at his second in command of the company. John Palmer used to be a sour, uncooperative SOB. Over the past few weeks, ever since he’d been with Shannon, he’d changed. Easier to talk to without getting your head chewed off, more instructive with the younger guys. All around a better guy.
“I, personally, thought you looked fine with the purse.”
John glared, then burst out laughing. “You’re not right in the head, fucker.”
Duncan grinned, glad that his buddy had found his piece of heaven. If Palmer could do it, it gave him hope that he wasn’t a lost cause. “Seems late for you to be here.”
“Shannon’s parents are parked in the driveway till after Christmas. House is getting small.”
Laughing, Duncan followed John to the weight bench he himself had just vacated. The other man shifted from the chair easily, and Duncan handed him the fifty pound weights he preferred from the rack. Preston continued to pound the bag in the corner of the room. He’d given no indication that he’d even heard the joking between the partners, though Duncan had no doubt the man knew everything that went on.
John settled to his back and started doing compressions, barely even slowing down for the substantial weight. “I have to find her a gift and I have no idea what she wants.”
Duncan frowned. “I don’t know that I can help you out with that, buddy.”
“You don’t have any ideas at all?”
“Well,” he sighed. “She likes purses, and animals.”
John was shaking his head. “We already have Pickle and Gray Cat. I about had a heart-attack the other morning when I ran over Gray Cat’s tail. She screamed and I about pissed my pants.”
Duncan laughed at the visual.
“Well, you could always get her jewelry. An engagement ring, perhaps?”
One of the weights slipped in Palmer’s hand and Duncan lunged for it, but the Gunny caught it himself.
“Are you crazy? It’s only been a month since I moved in with her.”
Duncan shrugged. “Okay. It was just a thought.”
But the suggestion had been planted. He could almost hear the wheels in John’s head turning. As he walked out of the rec room toward his office, his phone buzzed with a voicemail. When he tapped the screen to listen to it, though, there was only silence on the other end. Hmm. He deleted the message and continued on.
*****
Ember didn’t even see the strike coming, but she certainly felt it, like a Mack truck slamming into her at full speed. White hot pain exploded in her face. Then she was free-falling for several excrutiatingly long seconds. She landed flat on her back, her head cracking against the hardwood floor. Everything went dark.
Agony woke her, blazing through her right jaw and cheek. Tears flooded her eyes and rolled down her temples into her hair. She was afraid to move, in fear that the pain would escalate. Her stomach roiled with nausea.
Somebody clutched her hand, squeezing and shaking her. She wanted to tell them to hold still, because they were hurting her more, but she couldn’t get her brain to shift into gear. Hazy sounds reached her ears, but it was like they were packed with cotton. Muffled.
Taking a deep breath, she forced her eyes to open. After much fluttering and tearing from the brightness of the light overhead, she was able to focus. Her father knelt beside her, her hand cradled in his as he tried to wake her. His eyes were anguished as he realized she’d woken and was staring at him. He raised her hand and pressed a kiss to the back, but she pulled it away.
He’d done it again.
She lifted a hand to her jaw, and wasn’t surprised to find it grossly swollen. It throbbed with pain, and she wondered if he had broken it. Taking a fortifying breath, she opened her mouth a tiny bit.
Fire burned down through the side of her face, neck and chest. It was all she could do not to cry out again. There was a very real possibility he had broken her jaw. She took a moment to catalog the rest of her body, but the only injury appeared to be her head. Laying here, she could feel a knot forming on the back of her skull. Possible concussion. She wouldn’t know until she got checked out.
Using her hands, she pushed up from the floor. Dizziness made her sway on her bottom, but she breathed deeply, dragging in oxygen to stabilize. She felt his hand on her back, but it would have taken more effort to shrug it away. She just didn’t have it right then.
She glanced at the hallway, but everything seemed to be quiet. It still looked dark outside, so she probably had a few hours before Drew woke up looking for her. How the hell was she going to explain this to him?
She blinked, realizing she’d sat there for several minutes. She was losing time, definitely a bad sign. She needed to get up.
Easier thought than done.
Eventually she rolled to her hands and knees, but couldn’t formulate what to do next. When he reached down to help her, she let him, but pulled away to sag against the hallway wall. Listing to the left, she staggered down to the bathroom and flicked on the light.
Fresh pain seared her head, and a few tears escaped her control to roll down her cheeks. Even that hurt.
She forced her eyes open.
God, it was bad.
Her jaw was blazing red and swollen. Purple bruising had already started to spread out from the strike, and she knew she would be ten different colors in a couple of days. It had already started to darken below her eye. There were a couple of deeper purple lines in the main bruise, from his individual fingers. How the hell were they going to explain this away?
He stood in the dark hallway, arms crossed, eyes haunted as he watched her.
Ember opened her mouth to speak, but it was too painful. He saved her the trouble.
“I’ll stay here with Drew while you go to the hospital.”
She nodded and lowered herself to the commode while he called her a taxi.
*****
Zeke scanned the bar when he walked in, but didn’t see Ember right away. When he’d gotten up the courage to go in to pick up their order on Tuesday, a day he knew she normally worked, she hadn’t been there. He’d asked for her, and the hostess’s gaze had slid away, as if she ha
d something to hide, then said something about family time. The words sounded forced to him.
He’d waited three days. As he and Chad waded through the crowd now, he felt a little ridiculous checking on a woman who’d spoken less than fifty words to him. Zeke couldn’t yet articulate what he felt for her, other than a huge need to know more about her.
Chad seemed to understand what propelled him. He went to Frog Dog with him, because he admitted to being curious where she’d gone as well. Literally, Ember had never not been there when they’d gone in. She owned the place with her dad. It wasn’t like they could just pack up and leave.
A different young woman waited on them. Chad poured on the Texas charm, blue eyes twinkling, grinning even as the waitress surveyed the scars winding down his neck. “Is Ember working?”
The girl blinked and smiled, obviously remembering her job. “She’s in the kitchen. Do you need her?”
“Yes, we do. Can you get her for us?”
Zeke swallowed as the girl disappeared, anxiety tightening his chest. He didn’t know what he would say to her, if anything. His damn brain stalled out at the most inopportune times. He just needed to check on her for his own peace of mind. Her father had been having issues when they’d last talked to her.
The waitress returned with their beers in hand and an apologetic smile. “Sorry guys, she says she’s cooking and really busy right now. Can she talk to you another time?”
Zeke’s internal alarm went off and the tension in his gut increased. The grill wasn’t especially crowded, and he doubted there were that many food orders. Pushing to his feet, he met Chad’s eyes and circled the waitress. “B-back in a…minute.”
Without hesitation, he went to the swinging kitchen door and pushed through.
Ember looked up when he walked in, and when he saw her face, he felt like he’d been gut shot. Heavy bruising discolored the right side up to her eye, and she seemed to be in pain. Her mouth was pinched and her eyes squinted. When she realized he wasn’t one of the wait staff, she immediately turned away.