Texas Wild: The Gallaghers of Sweetgrass Springs Book 2

by Jean Brashear

  Two dives, three in rapid succession.

  He grabbed her ankle.

  She dove for him, gripped him with surprising strength and made for the surface.

  When they broke the surface he grinned. “Gotcha.”

  She slapped him. Only then did he realize she was sheet white, her pupils huge.

  “You bastard.” Even with her face wet he could see tears springing. “I hate you.” In seconds she was at the shore and pulling herself out. She grabbed for her clothes and ran with them, right past his truck.

  “Hey!” She was only behind the truck, at least he hoped so.

  He was a jerk. Junior high indeed. He hadn’t known what to do with how much he wanted her, so he’d resorted to the most juvenile stunt possible. “Rissa, wait!”

  He powered his way through the water and hit the ground at a run. As he rounded the truck, he saw her racing for the road. “Rissa, come back. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

  He watched helplessly as she ran, so much faster with boots on than he could without.

  He cursed and grabbed only his boots, didn’t even wait for pants. He took off running after her, stark naked but for his boots. “Rissa, please. Stop. Wait for me.”

  Then he lost sight of her. Like a madman he tore around in the trees looking for her, furious himself that she wouldn’t see reason.

  Then, winded from sitting on the bottom of the pond then bursting into immediate heavy swimming and running, he stumbled. Realized his head was spinning.

  He had to stop. He braced a hand against a tree trunk and swore darkly.

  One hell of a time for this to happen.

  Getting his head to clear seemed to take forever. His stomach roiled. Would serve him right if he threw up. Or passed out.

  But he sure didn’t want to do that naked.

  Slowly he began to make his way back to the pond, holding onto trees and shrubs as he went and cursing his fool head.

  Then he heard her. “You bastard. You speak up right now, you hear me? Don’t you play this stupid game again or I will never forgive you, you big, fat jerk. I—” Her voice dropped. “Mackey, where are you? Are you all right?”

  “Here,” he called out, swaying on his feet. “Ris, I’m…here.” He struggled to straighten himself.

  “Where are you? Say my name again.”

  “Rissa.” He forced his voice stronger. “Over…here. I…this isn’t playing. I’m…kinda dizzy.”

  He heard her footsteps pounding, getting closer.

  Then there she was. “Are you okay? Are you—”

  She burst out laughing, then clapped her hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry. It’s not funny.” She laughed helplessly again as she approached.

  He gave her the gimlet eye. “It is funny. And serves me right.”

  She was beside him then. “It does, you know.” She stepped under his arm, slid her arm around his waist, scanned him with more worry than her words indicated. “Can you walk okay?”

  “Yeah,” he managed. “Just…not in a real straight line.”

  “Oh, Mackey…”

  “Damn it. When will this ever stop?”

  “It’s been better the last few days, hasn’t it?”

  “I guess.”

  “It does serve you right, but I’m still sorry. Let’s get you home.”

  “Ris…” He looked down at her, relieved that he wasn’t seeing double now. “I’m naked.”

  She grinned past her worry. Then snorted. “You have on boots.”

  He started laughing and couldn’t stop. “I…do.” Another wave overcame him.

  She began to laugh, too, then turned into him. Grabbed on and held tight.

  The laughter slowed. “I was so scared,” she murmured into his shoulder. “I should have remembered. Duh, SEAL?”

  He closed his arms around her and relished her nearness. “I shouldn’t have done it. You—you mess me up, Ris.”

  She lifted her face to him. “Ditto, dude.”

  They shared a smile.

  But his body’s reaction couldn’t be ignored any longer.

  “I’d better get dressed,” he said reluctantly.

  “Aren’t we supposed to make out?”

  “You don’t make it easy to be honorable. There’s all this food, and you’re too damn skinny.”

  Her hands started to wander. “I am not. We can eat later.”

  He grabbed her wrists. “Cut that out. You’re killing me.”

  Her smile was wicked. “Aww…I’m so ashamed.”

  He turned her. Swatted her behind. “Go get my clothes. Pretty please,” he amended.

  “Spoilsport.” She walked off, clucking.

  “I really do hate you. That was all kinds of wrong,” she said as they sank to the blanket.

  “It was. You should kick my rear.”

  “I wanted to, but, you know…big, bad SEAL?”

  He frowned. “You know I would never hurt you, right?”

  You will. You’ll break my heart. She knew what he meant, though. She lifted one hand and smoothed back his hair. “I do.” She found a smile as she accepted the plate he’d fixed for her. “I can fight dirty, too, you know. I’m pretty tough myself.”

  His gaze was so tender she wanted to bathe in the gentleness. “Yeah, Slugger. I noticed that about you.”

  He bent his head to her, came within a breath of her lips.

  Abruptly he drew back. “Nope. Not starting that. You need food. I need my strength.”

  “Yeah.” She waggled her eyebrows instead of studying him to be sure he was really okay. “You will.”

  They devoured the food as if neither had eaten in a month.

  Then, stomachs full, they both sank to the quilt he’d brought along. Lying on her back, Rissa soaked in the peace, the sheer pleasure of being with him.

  Then she remembered the terror of thinking he’d drowned. She turned to him, but his eyes were closed.

  So she closed her own. Drifted off to sleep.

  She wasn’t sure what had awakened her.

  Then a sound arose from beside her, a deep, tormented groan. “No…no, don’t—not them—no!”

  She rolled to see Mackey’s face contorted in an expression of horror and grief. “Mackey,” she said softly. “It’s okay.” She started to reach for him.

  His entire body tensed. “I will kill you, you bastards. They didn’t—” His head whipped from side to side, his voice harsh with heartbreak.

  “Mackey…it’s okay,” she soothed. Laid a hand on his arm.

  She was slammed to her back, two hundred pounds of danger looming above her. His chest heaved with effort, his eyes open but glazed. Unseeing. “No! You killed them. All of them…” His head shook violently.

  His entire body began shaking.

  She didn’t know what to do.

  She knew how to handle a horse out of control. Touch calmed when the touch was trusted, but right now, Mackey was lost in some landscape of horror.

  She lay very still and used only her voice. “Mackey, it’s me. You’re dreaming. Mackey, it’s okay,” she repeated over and over. “You’re safe. They’re safe.” Whoever they were.

  As she repeated the assurances, finally she seemed to get through. His body relaxed, but still he poised above her.

  “Mackey…” She touched only his forearm, one touch and gently. “Mackey, come back. You’re okay. Please wake up.”

  At last his eyes focused. He blinked. “Wha—? Rissa?” He glanced around them, took in how he held her captive.

  “It’s okay, Mackey. You were dreaming.”

  Horror bloomed in his eyes. Abruptly he rolled over. “Oh, God.” He laid one arm over his eyes. “Are you okay?” His voice dropped even lower. “Did I…hurt you?”

  “I’m fine.” She touched the arm that lay between them. “Really.”

  “I’m sorry. Ris, I’m sorry. I haven’t done that in a long time.”

  She turned to her side. Laid one hand on his chest while sh
e propped herself up on her elbow. “Want to talk about it?”

  “No.” A deep sigh. “But I owe you an explanation.” He swore. “I hate this.”

  She rubbed her palm over his chest. “You don’t have to.”

  At last he took away the arm hiding his face. With that hand he clasped the one of hers that lay on his chest. “You’re sure I didn’t hurt you?” His beautiful green eyes were shadowed.

  “You didn’t. I promise. Was that…was it from being…over there?”

  He looked away. Exhaled. “Yeah.”

  She remained silent, unsure how best to help him. Instead she let touch speak for her.

  Another deep sigh. “There was this village. In Afghanistan. This family, the Sajadis. The dad was helping us, even though he was scared to death. He didn’t like what the Taliban were doing to his people, how they were making his country a target. He was so scared, though, for his family. We promised him—I promised him we’d watch over them while he went out on a mission with us. I had men we couldn’t really spare stay behind to guard the family because we desperately needed that intelligence.” He went silent for a long time, staring up in the sky.

  She pressed her hand flat against his heart.

  He glanced over with a sad smile but quickly looked back into the sky. “I should have had more men, but we were already lacking two guys who’d been injured, and it’s not a good idea to try to integrate anyone new into a squad, not on short notice. You have to know each other intimately, know what the other guy will do at any moment. I could only leave those two.”

  His jaw worked. “Our part of the mission was successful. We found a cache of armaments, RPGs and such that would be used to kill our troops. But when we got back…” He shook his head. “A friend of our guide had turned on him, had informed the Taliban. They massacred his whole family and our two guys along with them. Our guys had put up one hell of a fight, but from what we could see, there had been far too many against those two.” He covered his eyes. Rubbed them. “I’ve seen so much violence. Delivered so much of it. I used to love being in the heart of the action.”

  She turned her hand and wove her fingers into his. Wondered how to ease him. “It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t know.”

  “I was in command!” he snapped. “Two of my men and innocent civilians died. It damn sure was my fault. I made the decisions. I put them all in that crosshairs.” He jackknifed to sitting. Bowed his head. “I’m sorry. I’m not mad at you, I’m just…”

  He sounded weary to the bone. Soul-deep sick.

  This was the Mackey none of them knew. The warrior stripped of all his cocksure mischief.

  “What you’ve been through…” she said, rising to sit next to him. “You’re a hero, Mackey. Tell me you know that.”

  The gaze he turned to her was fiery and bitter. “Don’t call me a hero. Other men died so I could come back in one piece.”

  “You were injured, badly so.”

  He shoved to his feet. “I—there’s no reasoning this out, Ris. You can’t make this better.” He shoved his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know why I’m still alive and good men aren’t.”

  He straightened. “I was good at what I did. I did it for good reasons.” He glanced over, his gaze naked. “I…it does something to your soul, Rissa. No matter how hardened you are or how long you’ve been at it…and my buddies are still over there. While I’m here pretending to do dangerous stuff for children who playact their way through life. What the hell am I doing?”

  Then he shook it off. “Sorry. Not what you bargained for. I…I need to move.”

  “Let me go with you.”

  “No!” He blew out a breath. “I’ll be okay. I’ll get back to Mackey. Just…let me be alone for now, all right? I can’t ask you to wait here, but…” The expression on his face tore at her heart.

  She settled back on the blanket. “I’ll be right here.”

  He tossed her his keys. “You don’t have to. If you get tired…”

  “I’ll be here, Mackey. Go do what you have to.”

  Gaze conflicted, he studied her face.

  Then he turned away and broke into a run.

  Mackey ran until his lungs sawed for breath, until his chest felt as though it would explode.

  Then he stopped as darkness began to creep in. Glanced around to figure out where he was. If he wasn’t careful, he’d lose his way in the growing darkness.

  He turned and began to walk at a steady pace and while he did, he searched for Wild Mackey again.

  He’d promised her a trip to the bluff. He still hadn’t delivered. He’d promised her relaxation, and look how he’d bungled that. Was he a good enough actor to pull this off? He wasn’t sure, but by the time he could see his truck, he mostly had himself in hand again.

  “One stop left.” He halted in front of her.

  She rose. “Mackey, we can just go home. It’s fine.”

  “It’s not fine.” He gathered their things. “You said you wanted to make out at the bluff.”

  “But—” She blinked.

  He tried harder to find the light. “You haven’t found anyone else to do it with in the last day or two, have you?”

  She studied him cautiously, worry on her features.

  Please, Ris. Don’t go there.

  She must have read the plea in his eyes. She cocked her head. “What if I have?”

  Relief helped him find a grin. “You haven’t. Anyway, you want to go with me. We’re reliving our teenage years. Rewriting history.”

  “Maybe I’d write you out of the script.”

  “You’ve dreamed of making out at the bluff with me, admit it.”

  “I don’t have to admit anything. Anyway, my jeans still aren’t dry,” she grumbled.

  “Whine, whine, whine. No wonder we always left you behind. You are a brat.”

  She snorted. “You’re thanking your lucky stars that you get a second chance. Don’t tell me otherwise.”

  Every playful exchange eased his heart. “Whatever you want to think.”

  But they were both grinning, if a little awkwardly.

  Thank you, he wanted to say.

  But this night was for her, and he’d almost wrecked it already. “Get a move on, girl. Don’t want to lose the prime makeout spot.” He turned and strode for the car.

  Chapter Eleven

  She was too quiet as they drove through the growing darkness, and he mentally kicked himself.

  But he pasted on a cocky grin. “Losing your nerve, Red?” Please. Forget what I did.

  She stiffened immediately. “Of course not. But maybe we should—”

  “Yep. Losing your nerve,” he bluffed. He did not want to discuss his nightmare. Or be pitied. “I admit, I’m a lot of man to handle.”

  A very unladylike snort burst from her. “Yeah. Keep telling yourself that.”

  Okay. Better. He breathed easier. Turned onto the road heading for the bluff. “Wanna know how many girls I’ve brought out here?”

  “Of course not. Why would I care?”

  “Just thought you might be curious.”

  “You’ve probably lost count, anyway.”

  None I wanted as much as I want you, he thought. But no way was he saying that. “Okay. I get it. You might not measure up, you’re thinking.”

  She tensed, and for a second he thought he’d gone too far.

  Then she turned to him with one eyebrow arched. “I already know I can measure up. I’m the yardstick, if you’re honest. Your other women will have to measure up to me.” But her eyes spoke of nerves her brash words were concealing.

  “You are some kind of hot, Ris. No bones about it.” He made himself focus on the road ahead.

  At last they reached the bluff. He killed the engine, and they were wrapped in darkness. The moon was only a half, and the night helped them hide from each other.

  He’d never had difficulty concealing his thoughts from a woman before. She was the only one who’d ever made it past his fa
cade.

  The atmosphere thickened, and nerves sparked at the edges. She put her hand on the doorknob as if she meant to get out.

  “That would be cheating yourself,” he said softly.

  “What?” She turned to him, her eyes huge in her beautiful face.

  “Come with me.” He nodded toward the back seat.

  She glanced over. “You’re not serious.”

  “I assure you the front seat would be more uncomfortable, gearshift and console and all. But I’m game if you are.”

  “I, uh—” She pressed her lips together.

  He reached for her. Touched her face. “It wouldn’t be authentic if we didn’t make out in the car. You’d be missing a seminal experience of teenhood.”

  “We’re not teenagers.” Her voice shook a little.

  “Thank God.” He leaned over the console and drew her toward him. “I know my way around a woman’s body now. Kiss me, Rissa.”

  She licked her lips, hesitating.

  He felt that lick to his groin. He forced himself to wait, to be patient even when the teenager in him pushed hard for him to rush.

  At last she closed the distance.

  Thank God.

  Slowly her tongue painted over his lower lip, that one touch stirring him in ways all-out sex with other women never had.

  Chill, bud. He forced himself not to devour her, however much he wanted to. He craved to lose himself in her. Forget the past. Forget everything but her.

  She glided her tongue over the inner edges of his mouth with such painful slowness he thought he might die.

  He couldn’t seem to help the growl that erupted from him. He gripped one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the back of her seat to keep himself from reaching for her.

  And he let her play. Soon her hands were busy with his buttons, sliding inside his shirt and spreading the edges to give her access to his chest.

  He gripped the steering wheel so tightly he wondered if it would crack.

  Then she bent her head to his chest and opened her mouth on one nipple. “Ris…” he groaned. “Please. Get in the back seat. I’m begging you.”

  She drew back with a siren’s smile. “I’ve grown up, too.”

  “I am all too aware of that, babe.” He wanted to get out, to lay her down on a blanket, not to contort himself in a back seat, however roomy.