by Talty, Jen
“She told me it was no problem. I hope I didn’t make one?”
“Not at all,” Ashley said, sipping her wine, smelling the chicken and cheese quesadilla that had just been served to the person sitting to her left. The aroma made her stomach growl. But she’d wait to make dinner at home. Her nice, peaceful home on Pilot Knob Road on the other side of the lake. Nothing better than eating a nice meal, with her favorite wine, staring at the water. It didn’t t matter that she’d be alone.
Alone sometimes was good.
A line she kept telling herself, so she’d believe it. Truth be told, she’d started to get lonely and wouldn’t mind male companionship, but the idea of going on dates made her want to scream.
“I’m glad I got to work with you,” she said.
“You’re good at what you do.” He swiveled his stool, putting his back to the bar, crossing his arms over his chest. “We need more people like you. Makes healing a lot easier. I’ve seen men with life-changing injuries who honestly believe their physical therapist makes all the difference in the world. No offense to others in your profession, but some of them aren’t very people-oriented.”
She let out a dry laugh. “Sometimes it’s a thankless job. I’ve been called names that would make even a drunken sailor blush. But at the end of the day, my job is to help my patients adjust to whatever changes in life they have to deal with.” She pointed to his knee. “As you saw on the discharge papers, I cleared you for the physical, but did you read my side note?”
He nodded, his royal-blue eyes catching her gaze and locking it in as if she were a target and he the missile. “I wouldn’t have brought it up, but since you did, I’m wondering why you believe the knee has been compromised.”
“It’s weaker than your other leg, which is your non-dominant leg. I’ve seen great progress, but I worry that under certain circumstances—in the field, it might hinder your performance.”
He swiveled, grabbing his wine, and raising it in the air. “I look forward to proving you wrong.”
“I hope you do.” Once again, they made a toast. The rich, red wine flowed smoothly down her throat, coating her stomach with a warm burn. This was no happy hour special. While she wasn’t a wine snob, she knew when she was drinking a cheap blend over one closer to a hundred dollars a bottle.
This was of the latter variety.
So, he lied about happy hour specials, making him once again, confident.
Or arrogant.
Either way, she enjoyed the easy conversation he provided. If he weren’t a trooper, or a patient, she might have a second drink.
“Tell me about your boyfriend,” he said as he waved the bartender over.
“I’d rather not discuss my personal life.” Not to mention she hadn’t thought the lie through, and she wasn’t good on her feet like that.
“I get that. Do you want another drink? Something to eat?”
“I’m good.”
The girl behind the counter tossed a towel over her shoulder. “What can I do for you, Jasper?” she asked in a southern drawl, smiling, batting her baby blues. Maybe she was looking for a bigger tip.
“The usual sandwich, and I’ll get one more glass of wine.”
“As long as you’re not driving. Of course, you could hang out with me all night, and I’ll take you home,” the waitress said.
He laughed, though Ashley thought…or maybe hoped…it was forced.
“I’ve gotta head into work tomorrow, otherwise, I might take you up on that.” He winked.
Ashley waited until the young woman had moved onto another customer. “Do women fall at your feet like that all the time?”
“No,” he said. “And you’re proof of that.”
“I have a boyfriend.” She swallowed, trying not to cough on the lie.
“And if you didn’t?”
Christ, why did he have to ask that question. Heat rose to her cheeks. “It doesn’t change the fact you’re a trooper.”
“Why don’t you like cops?” he asked, rotating his hips, swinging the chair left and right slightly.
“I have the utmost respect for what you do, so it’s not that.”
“Then why the rule?” he asked, leaning in, keeping his gaze intently on her every move.
“My dad is a career military man, and it’s a hard life. I want something more stable.”
“I did eight years in the Army. I get how hard it is. But troopers don’t have to uproot their families.”
“But you get shot at. Die on the job. And those who work for Special Operations Rescue Team, well you’re dealing with bombs, terrorists, and also get deployed. It’s just not a life for me. Hence, why I don’t date men in your profession.”
He turned back to the bar just as his food arrived. “That, I can certainly understand. What branch of the military is your father in?”
“Army. My dad is a Green Beret.”
“I went to special forces school. Pretty intense and it was on an op as a green beret that first did a job on this knee,” he said.
“Another reason why that leg is weakened. You’re a young man, but you have the leg of a sixty-year-old.”
“No more talk about my leg.” He waved his hand. “I’ve worked with a few A-Teams on various missions during my time in the Army. I seem to remember a Riggs. Can’t remember his first name. The op was so long ago, maybe ten years ago.” Jasper shoved half a steak sandwich in his mouth. Holding his hand over his lips, he said, “Joshua. That was his name. Nice guy.”
“That’s my dad’s name, but there could be a dozen people with that name. Not totally uncommon.”
Jasper coughed uncontrollably.
“You okay?” She leapt from her seat, centering her hand on the center of his back, ready to strike.
“Fine,” he managed, waving his hand. “Took too big of a bite.”
“Ya think?” She relaxed, easing back onto the stool, taking her last sip of wine.
“Does your dad have a scar over his right eye that curves down his temple to his ear and then one across his cheekbone?”
Her heart hammered in her chest. Her father had been the sole reason she’d gone into physical therapy. “That would be him.”
“I feel sorry for your boyfriend.”
“Why do you say that? You mentioned he was a good man.”
“One of the best, but on that op, not much happened. A lot of sitting around waiting, and I distinctly remember him mentioning what he wanted to do to a young man who’d broken his little girl’s heart.”
“Christ,” she muttered. That was another reason she didn’t date military men, cops, fireman, any job where bravado was part of the package.
“I seem to remember your boyfriend was on that op.”
“Ex-boyfriend and yeah that was hell. Another reason I don’t date men in your profession. The current man in my life is a civilian.” Ha. Not that big of a lie since her German Shepherd was a male, and a civilian.
“On that note.” He pointed to her empty glass. “You did join me, and I promised to leave it at that. So, Ashley Riggs, it’s been a pleasure knowing you.”
“Thanks for the drink.” It was best she walk away now, even if his dismissal hurt her feelings. She wanted a chance to defend her father’s actions when it came to her ex, but she decided it wasn’t worth it. “I sincerely hope you do well with your physical.”
1
Three months later…
“God damn it,” Jasper said under his breath as he took the fifth step down the stairs at the Jupiter Ocean Beach Resort, heading from his second story room to the lobby. He mentally cursed his last physical therapist, which hadn’t been Ashley, but some man named Boomer who had little patience and not a good bed side at all. But it didn’t matter who had been his therapist this time. No amount of surgeries or exercise was going to fix his leg this time.
The doctor told him that when he opened him up for the second time, it was essentially ending his career with the Special Operations Response Team an
d putting him behind a desk. Or maybe in a boat on Lake George patrol, which wouldn’t be so bad, but still, it wasn’t what he was used to.
Part of him had wished he hadn’t been such an idiot and gone back to Ashley’s office, but he didn’t want to face her and hear the words, I told you so. She warned him his leg was weaker. Even he knew it when he struggled with the second physical, having to grin and bear it, literally.
But it wasn’t until he’d jumped from a helicopter in a high altitude, low open parachute jump and landed in the water funky that he realized how bad it was. He stuck with the mission, biting through the pain, but when the op was over, he collapsed in the chopper with a knee five times its normal size. The doctor said it was about as bad as they came, and nothing was going to make it right again.
Except maybe a new knee. Something he’d have to consider in the future because not being able to even walk down a flight of stairs without nearly collapsing from the pain wasn’t cutting it.
Well, now he was just being dramatic. He’d probably walk without a limp again, but he’d never be jumping from a helicopter.
Fucking desk duty.
Maybe training.
Pushing the negative thoughts from his brain, he stepped into the massive marble lobby of the hotel, heading for the pool area and a small gathering of the bridal party. Talk about a fancy place to have a wedding. Jupiter might be typical southern Florida, but it had a unique small-town appeal. He’d enjoy the weekend before heading back to New York, where he’d have to make a decision.
Desk.
Or a training position.
He pushed open the door leading out to the eating area, the humid air smothering his skin. Puffing out his chest, he did his best to mask the limp.
“Jasper,” his buddy Stephan called from the other side of the patio. “Man, are you a sight for sore eyes.” He pulled Jasper in for a manly hug, slapping each other on the back. “This wedding stuff is starting to get to me.”
Jasper took a step back, looking Stephan up and down. The smile plastered on the poor bastard’s face spoke volumes.
Happiness.
Jasper had been told the love of a good woman would do that to a man. Even a green beret. Jasper had his reservations. He’d never had a relationship last more than a couple of months. He just never had the time, the inclination, or the trust, no thanks to his mother.
“It will be over this time tomorrow, and you’ll be heading off on your honeymoon.”
“Now that part I’m looking forward to,” Stephan said, pointing to the bar. “Let’s get you a drink.”
“I’m down with that.” Jasper shook hands with a couple of brothers in arms he’d met when he’d gone through boot camp. It had been years since he’d seen many of these men, but they were like family. “You look good.”
“Other than that limp of yours, you’re not looking to bad yourself,” Stephan said.
No one here know anything about his sordid past. It had been a struggle to move up the ranks, considering his questionable past, but the Army, nor the state troopers, had held his mother’s sins against him.
“You have no idea what it means to me to have you as my best man,” Stephan said, handing Jasper a solo cup. “I miss having you on my team.”
He looked around for the bride, Suzie something or other. He’d met her once about a year ago when he’d blown through North Carolina, where Stephen had been stationed. She seemed like a nice enough girl with her sweet southern charm. He truly hoped they’d make it. Being an active green beret didn’t mesh well with married life.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” A total bullshit lie, and by the way Stephan cocked his head and laughed, he knew damn well that if Jasper could have been on an op, he’d forgo the best man duties, especially since Stephan had to bribe him.
“How’s the leg holding up?” Stephen leaned back against the bar.
“It’s holding me up, but I won’t be heading back to my SORT,” he admitted for the first time out loud to anyone.
“Man. That sucks. I’m sorry. What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know yet. I have two options with the New York State Troopers, or I could walk away and find a civilian job. I know an ex-cop who does private security and another one who does PI work.”
“You’d be happier in a desk job than doing civilian security of any kind,” Stephen said before he chugged his beer. “Here comes the bride and her best friend from college, and your date. Beautiful woman, her name is—”
“Ashley Riggs,” Jasper said, blinking his eyes before giving them a good rub, making sure he wasn’t seeing things.
Her raven hair curled over her shoulders, flowing down over her round breasts, which heaved upward in a sexy, strapless, red dress. His gaze rolled over her decadent body, landing on her toes popping out of a pair of strappy heels, something he’d never seen her wear before and damn, she had sexy feet.
Sexy everything.
“You know her?”
“Not well, but yeah.”
Suzie, the bride, while beautiful with her brown hair, cut in a short bob above her shoulders, soft-blue eyes, and trim body, didn’t hold a candle to the intoxicating Ashley.
Ashley paused mid-step when their eyes locked from across the patio. For the last six weeks, he’d constantly thought of the sexy physical therapist while Mr. No Personality tried to tell him to man up and how the pain was weakness leaving the body.
Fucktard.
But Jasper chosen to go forty miles from home, just to avoid Ashley. She had a boyfriend, and he’d crashed and burned.
Not to mention her father. That was an entirely different story. Joshua Riggs hadn’t taken too kindly to his demo man taking his daughter to bed and bragging about it on a mission.
“There’s my handsome future husband,” Suzie said, slipping into Stephan’s arms.
“It seems Ashley and Jasper already know each other,” Stephan said.
“Really, how so?” Suzie asked.
“I was his physical therapist after his first surgery.” Ashley arched a brow. “But he cheated on me after this last one.”
Jasper swallowed. How the hell did she know there had been a second?
“She’s the best,” Suzie said.
“I would have to agree.” Jasper shifted his weight to his good knee. “So, how’s the boyfriend?”
“Boyfriend?” Suzie’s voice screeched. “She hasn’t even had a date in probably a year. Or more.”
Jasper’s turn to arch a brow.
Ashley furrowed her forehead and pursed her lips.
Jasper stifled a laugh.
Suzie glanced up at her husband and smiled. “My parents are here, and I think you should go talk with them.”
“Yes, dear,” Stephan said, rolling his eyes, but laughing playfully. “We’ll leave you two to catch up.”
“Made up boyfriend, eh?” he teased, knowing he shouldn’t.
“What are you, Canadian?” she shot back, putting one hand on her hip, shifting it to the side, making it more pronounced.
He swallowed a groan.
“Sorry, but I knew you were lying when we shared our drink,” he admitted, pulling out a barstool, reminding him of the last time he’d seen her. “But since we’re on the subject, why did you lie?”
“Thought it would soften the blow of saying no to you.”
“So, why stop and meet me?” He shoved a hand in his trouser pocket before he smoothed her long hair over her shoulder just so he could feel the thick strands in his fingers while her warm, silky skin heated his.
Danger. That’s what this woman represented. Clear. Present. Danger.
“Momentary lapse in judgement. Why’d you go see a new therapist?”
“Before I answer that, how the hell did you know I needed one?” he asked with a defensive tone.
“The new therapist requested my records and you signed off on them. Now answer my question.” Her voice had a dark edge, one that he wouldn’t have expected, t
hough he’d been the one who set the tone.
“Two reasons. First being anger.”
“At me? For what? Not going out—”
He pressed his finger over her plump lips. “Anger with myself for pushing too hard. I volunteered for that mission before I was ready.” He dropped his hand. “Secondly, even though you showed up for a drink, you kept up the lie about your love life, and you made it clear when you didn’t stay longer. I’m persistent, but I do know when to call it quits.”
“You essentially dismissed me after finding out who my father was.”
He let out a sarcastic laugh. He deserved that because it was true. Well, only half true. “Less about him, and more about Derek.”
She gasped. “You know him? How?”
“I had a front row seat when your father punch him. Dickhead deserved more than a fist in his fast.”
“Great, so you know about the pictures,” she said, more as a statement than a question.
Not that he’d forgotten what Derek had done, or said, but he hadn’t thought about them, partly because he never saw them. What asshole brought naked pictures of his girlfriend and showed them to his buddies while under the command of his girlfriend’s father.
Jasper might not have ever had a lasting relationship, but even he knew better.
He nodded. “For the record, I never saw them.”
“Doesn’t make me feel better,” she muttered. She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. The moon light shined against her dark hair, making it look like the softest silk money could buy.
“What can I get you to drink?” he asked, needing to change the subject.
“A shot of anything,” she said, leaning against the bar. “Make it a double.”
“Chaser?”
“Beer’s fine.”
He waved the bartender over and ordered their drinks.
“Can I trust you?” she asked.
“Excuse me?” he asked, pushing a shot of Fireball in front of her along with a beer.