Steel Rain: A Military Romance Collection

by A. Gorman

Spence raises his hand to his forehead in a spirited salute. “Sir. Yes, sir.”

  “March,” Jake commands pointing to the backyard. Spence speeds away as fast as his little legs can carry him, out the door and into the yard, followed closely by Nutters. Nuke stays by Jake’s side, and I wonder if he’s picking up the awkward tension between us.

  “You coming?”

  Not yet, but give me time.

  “Er . . . yeah, of course.” I stumble over my words and the corner of Jake’s mouth turns up just a fraction of an inch. I follow them onto the back deck, staring at Jake’s ass the whole time. Then I take a seat and watch, Nuke stretched out at my feet. Jake demonstrates all of the hand signals and Spencer studies the movements like a hawk. My boy is a quick study, always has been, and soon he asks Jake for more signals, more information, more everything. He’s like a little sponge, soaking it all up, and I know I made the right decision.

  After Jake announces that they’re done for the day, I head inside and grab some cookies from the bench and place them on the table. I’m bending over at the fridge, pulling the pitcher of iced tea from the top shelf, when his conversation with Spence comes to an abrupt halt. When I turn, his eyes are dark and hooded and the bulge in the front of his jeans is more pronounced. I swear I flush from the tips of my toes to the roots of my hair. I glance away and move by him, but I swear I feel his predatory gaze follow me all the way to my seat.

  Spencer drains his milk in three seconds flat and hands Nutters a couple of cookies under the table when he thinks I can’t see. Jake does the same with Nuke, and just this once I let them both get away with it because I figure it’s a special treat on a special day.

  After a while, Spence and Nutters head for the lounge room floor again, and Jake and I are left alone. With the exception of Nuke, who sits on the floor beside his owner. He burrows his head into Jake’s lap, and Jake absentmindedly rubs his ears.

  “You feelin’ alright?” I nod to the dog’s head in his lap.

  “It makes me uneasy, being here, being this close but unable to touch you.” He traces his fingers over my forearm as it’s resting on the table and pulls me towards him. “Have dinner with me.”

  I shake my head, wincing at how those words from his lips smart. I want to. God, do I want to say yes to this man, but my head tells me no, and my heart can’t be trusted.

  His smile fades, and I gently pull my hand from his grasp. Taking the pitcher of iced tea, I put it back in the fridge and close the door. Jake brings the glasses into the kitchen, and I take them from him and rinse them out in the sink.

  Big arms wrap around my waist as he draws me against him.

  I gasp in surprise. “What are you doing?”

  “I know why you keep runnin’ from me, but I also know it’s pointless,” he murmurs against the shell of my ear. “Eventually I’m gonna wear you down, angel. One thing the military taught me is to never give up. So I’m giving you fair warnin’—you best be prepared to wave that white flag of yours because I ain’t giving up, I ain’t goin’ away, and I ain’t gonna let you slip through my fingers again.” His hand slips lower, grazing my stomach and heading south. I arch back into him and close my eyes as his erection grinds against my ass. “You wanna play hard to get now, that’s fine, but either way you’ll be surrendering to me before long.”

  I don’t have a response for that, but it don’t seem as if he needs one. Jake’s heat leaves my back, and the rush of cold air that takes his place has me mourning his departure.

  “Same time tomorrow, buddy?” he says to Spence out in the other room.

  “You bet,” Spence says. I sag against the sink, wondering how I’m supposed to make it through the day without going to find him. I’m sad and I’m spent, but mostly I’m tired of fighting. Jake’s right. He will wear me down, and we both know it.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Ellie

  I can’t believe I am doing this. It’d taken Jake two days to convince me to let him take me to dinner, and I’m so mad at myself for not holdin’ out longer, but I just couldn’t keep saying no to him.

  I check my hair for the third time this evening and smile at my reflection, making sure I have no lipstick on my teeth. I don’t normally wear such a bold color, preferring instead to choose tinted lip balms and my rosebud salve. This shocking red pushed my comfort zone light years away and then some. It also made me paranoid that I’d spend the entire night licking crimson from my teeth.

  “I can’t do this,” I say to myself, but Olivia—as usual, with the worst timing ever— stands in my doorway with Spence and Nutters.

  “Of course you can.”

  “I look like a whor . . .” I glance at Spence and change my choice of words. “A woman who sweats in church in this lipstick. And do you think my hair is too big?”

  “Girl, if there’s one thing my mamma taught me, it’s that a southern belle’s hair can never, ever be too big.”

  I frown, leaning in to separate a couple of lashes that have merged into one heavily mascaraed clump. “Didn’t your mamma also die from lung cancer without ever havin’ smoked a cigarette a day in her life?”

  Olivia waves me away. “Hush now, no one could prove it’d been from all those years ingesting hairspray.”

  “I think you look like an angel,” Spencer says.

  I smile at my boy and mimic pinching his cheeks. I don’t really touch him of course. “Spencer Mason, I could kiss you right now.” He scrunches up his nose and makes a gagging sound. I turn to Olivia. “You have my number?” She glares at me. “And you have Jake’s number?”

  “And I have the number for Shux, and if that don’t work, I can call any number of people to come help me out of a bind. Or I could just put Spence in the car and come get you myself.”

  “And Nutters,” Spence says, tugging on Olivia’s shirt sleeve.

  “And Nutters,” she agrees, and turns her attention back to me. “Will you stop worrying please?”

  “I’m sorry, I’m just—”

  “A nervous wreck?” Olivia finishes.

  Spencer pulls at the hem of my dress. “You wanna take one of my travel puke bags?”

  I laugh and squat down to his level. “I think I’m gonna be okay. Mamma’s gonna be brave.”

  Surprisingly, he reaches out his little hand and tucks my hair behind my ear. “Thatta girl.”

  * * *

  Dinner is at Shux on the Pier—not the finest restaurant in Fairhope, but it does have the best view of Mobile Bay and it serves the best crawfish balls in town. We talk a little about Spencer and Nutters, about Nuke and how Jake wound up working at the shelter, and how he’s attending AA meetings and a veterans help group for PTSD survivors. We mostly stick to safe topics—with the exception of his PTSD—and we pretend that there isn’t this huge thing between us, this doubt and self-loathing and hurt that buzzes at the edges of our calm little bubble. It’s nice, but it isn’t real. It feels very much like we’re playing house and not for the first time tonight, I wonder whether this is such a good idea.

  After dinner, we buy ice cream from a lone vendor and walk along the pier. Summer is all but gone, but there’s still a bit of Alabama warmth digging its heels in. For the most part though, the on season is coming to a close, and we only pass a fisherman casting off of the pier and the odd elderly couple out for an evening stroll.

  Jake sits on a bench at the end of the pier, and I take a seat beside him and look out at the moonlight on the water. I can feel his eyes on me and when I turn to face him, Jake lightly runs the back of his fingers over my cheek.

  I pull away. “What are you doing?”

  He sighs. “Why do you keep fighting me, Elle?”

  “Jake . . .” I stare at him, wondering how to answer him truthfully.

  “No, I know I put you through hell,” he whispers in that whiskey rough voice. “I don’t exactly have the best track record when it comes to stability, and I understand that’s what you need right now, for you and for Sp
ence, but I won’t ever hurt you like that again.”

  “You say that now—”

  “And I mean it, every damn word. Come home with me,” he says, and though the words are gruff, there’s an unmistakable vulnerability in them too.

  “I should get home to Spencer so Olivia can—”

  “Goddamn it, angel.” He raises his face to the sky and puffs out a heavy breath through his cheeks.

  I shake my head. “You and me we go back and forth so often I’m afraid it’s gonna give us both whiplash. It’s never-ending with us, and I know you’re getting help, you’re a different man than you were two months ago. I see that, but if I’m being honest with you, Jake, I don’t know if I can go through that all over again.”

  “That’s bullshit, and you know it. You’re scared—”

  “Yeah, I am. I’m terrified.”

  “I’m not.” He takes my free hand between his. “Angel, if war taught me anything at all it’s not to put off what we want. It’s to not be stupid when it comes to following your heart.”

  “Are you callin’ me stupid?”

  “Damn right I am. What you’re doin’ is stupid, making me jump through hoops, thinkin’ I won’t win. I ain’t ever played a game and lost. I know you’re scared, and that Spence is your number-one concern. He’s mine, too. The two of you pulled me out of the darkness and now I’m giving you back that light, ’cause I don’t need it if I got you.”

  “Jake—”

  “Would you shut up already with your goddamn excuses? Answer me something,” he says. “When I kiss you, does it feel right? Not just nice, or sweet, but deep down in your gut, does it feel right?”

  I look out over the gulf, afraid to meet his eyes when I say, “Yes.”

  “Then what else is there to think about?” He leans in, grabbing my ice-cream and tossing it aside, and then my face is between his sticky fingers as his lips crash down on mine. I rake my hands through his hair, forgetting where we are, and that we’re both in full view of the fisherman who begins clapping at the show we give him.

  I pull back and laugh, resting my forehead against Jake’s as I stare into deep sapphire eyes.

  “Do you trust me?”

  I take a deep breath. Do I? I don’t know. I’ve been hurt by men before—hell, I’ve been hurt by this man before, but I’ve survived. My head and heart have been at war since the day I first laid eyes on Jake Tucker, and here he is, standing before me, waving the white flag and begging me to throw down mine, too. I’ve spent so long protecting my heart, protecting Spencer’s, that I forgot to listen to what it really wanted. If I’m quiet now, and I listen real hard, I know the answer to that question. Surrender is inevitable for both of us, so I kiss him, and I never stop.

  Epilogue

  Ellie

  Eight months later

  “Let me take it,” Jake says, and I shoo him away as I carry the tea tray out onto the front porch.

  “I got it.” I wrench it out of his grasp, and the pitcher of iced tea wobbles as if it might fall. I stand still long enough for him to snatch the tray up and set it down beside my chair. “I just said I got it, didn’t I?”

  “I wouldn’t argue with her, Jake. She don’t like to be sassed,” Spencer says, and I shake my head.

  “Men.” I throw my hands up in exasperation.

  “Well, your mamma may not like to be sassed, but I don’t care for her being stubborn, so she’s gonna listen or I’m gonna pick up the phone and call her doctor,” Jake says, and tosses the ball to Spencer.

  “Well I gotta do something or I’m gonna wind up looking like an overfed cow now that I’m no longer working the salon,” I say, fed up with this whole thing.

  I’d closed Big Bama Hair when we moved into Jake’s, but I’d also heard that Rachel Redgrave was looking to sell her salon downtown, and it had just seemed like a smart investment. I mean, for one thing, all those women were about to lose their jobs, and for another, Mr. Williams had left us enough money to send Spencer to college three times over and ensure I was a kept woman, but I couldn’t sit still long enough to put my feet up. Not working hadn’t really been an option for me—much to Jake’s annoyance.

  Not that he can really talk. He works with Olivia full-time now. The expansion had grown the entire organization, and people came from all around to adopt her dogs and participate in the training program. On top of that, Jake also runs weekly Tuesday meetings for Combat PTSD Survivors. It’s the only one like it in two counties and is desperately needed. He hasn’t seen a nightmare in nigh on two months, which is progress. And Spencer and Nutters? Well, nothing holds those two boys down.

  We had a hell of a fight with the school board trying to get approval for a dog on the premises, but after one week’s trial, every one of Spencer’s teachers said he was less disruptive to the class, the meltdowns were fewer, and the other kids were socializing with him more too. We haven’t managed to get him into any sort of team sports yet, but I’m not holding my breath for that one. While the rest of this town might be football obsessed—Roll Tide—my boys are happier avoiding the noise and chaos of the Friday night lights and tossing the ball back and forth in our own front yard.

  “Spence, go long,” Jake says, as he swings his arm back and waits for Spencer to move to the opposite end of the yard. He lobs the football, and that’s all I see before I’m swept up in a honeymoon hold.

  “Let me go, Jake Tucker.”

  “Not on your life, angel.” He eases me onto the front porch swing and leans down to kiss me. “Not even if you ask me nicely. Put your feet up, Elle. I ain’t gonna tell you again.”

  “You are not the boss of me, Tucker.”

  “Wanna make a bet?” He grins and whistles to his dog. “Nuke. Guard.”

  “That is not fair,” I complain, as Nuke jumps up on the loveseat beside me and barks in my direction. “Fine, I’m putting my feet up, but you can make dinner.”

  “Done. Spence,” he calls over his shoulder, never once taking his eyes from me, “pizza alright for you, buddy?”

  “Hell yeah,” Spencer says, slamming the ball on the ground as if he just scored a touchdown.

  “Hey, watch your mouth, mister,” I warn.

  Jake pulls a stool over and picks up my legs one at a time, gently placing them on the poufy cushioned seat. “You move and your ass is mine tonight.”

  “You know that’s not much of a deterrent,” I say, attempting to heft myself out of the love seat. “I think I’ll get up and make dinner.”

  “Don’t tempt me, Elle.” Jake gently pushes my shoulders down and gives me one of those lopsided grins. He pats Nuke on the head, and then squats down in front of me. Jake presses a beautiful, scarred hand to my overly large belly. “Okay, princess, I’m gonna level with ya. Your mother is kind of a pain in the ass, so I’m giving you permission to kick her if she budges. That’s an order, Marine.”

  She moves, her tiny foot kicking the palm of his hand. I swear on all things holy I’m growing an Olympic swimmer in here. Guess I shouldn’t be all that surprised, considering she was conceived on the pier beach during our date that night because we couldn’t wait until we got home.

  “Traitor,” I tell them both.

  “That’s my girl.”

  “Come on, Jake,” Spencer whines.

  “Nuke, eat her if she moves.”

  The dog beside me whines, and I ruffle his ears as Jake bounds down the stairs towards Spencer and Nutters. They throw the ball around some more as the sun sets behind the trees. I pick up the jug and pour a little iced tea in my glass.

  “What do you think, Nuke?” I ask between sips. “Should we keep him?”

  “Woof.”

  “Yeah, I think so, too.” I stroke Nuke’s fur and watch my boys, and I can’t believe how lucky I am. It’s been a long, hard road for all of us, but it just works—Jake, me, Spence, the dogs, and soon a little girl.

  My husband may not be perfect, and things may not always be easy between us. There are
some very black days where we fight and scream, or he retreats into himself, and there are times when I’m frightened he might turn to the bottle again, but he made me a promise eight months ago and I trust that he’ll stick to it. I won’t change that man for anything, because our love may be chaos but I’d rather run toward it than run away.

  There’s no bravery in running away, but there can be in surrender. Sometimes to surrender to someone else’s chaos is the bravest thing you can do.

  About the Author

  Carmen Jenner is a thirty-something, USA TODAY and international bestselling author.

  Her dark romance, KICK (Savage Saints MC #1), won Best Dark Romance Read in the Reader’s Choice Awards at RWDU 2015.

  A tattoo enthusiast, hard core lipstick addict and zombie fangirl, Carmen lives on the sunny north coast of New South Wales, Australia, where she spends her time indoors wrangling her two wildling children, a dog named Pikelet, and her very own man-child.

  A romantic at heart, Carmen strives to give her characters the HEA they deserve, but not before ruining their lives completely first … because what’s a happily ever after without a little torture?

  Stay up to date with Carmen’s latest works at: http://www.carmenjenner.com

  More from the Author

  Welcome to Sugartown (Sugartown Series #1)

  Enjoy Your Stay (Sugartown Series #2)

  Greetings from Sugartown (Sugartown Series #3)

  Now Leaving Sugartown (Sugartown Series #4)

  KICK (Savage Saints MC #1)

  TANK (Savage Saints MC #2)

  REVELRY (Taint #1)

  Finding North

  Coming Soon

  The Way Back Home

  The Trouble with Us

  CLOSER (Taint #2)

  HURT (Taint #3)

  JETT (Savage Saints MC #3)

  GRIM (Savage Saints MC #4)

  KILLER (Savage Saints MC #5)

  Prologue

  Taylor

  Afghanistan, September 2010