Steel Rain: A Military Romance Collection

by A. Gorman

  Addictive Romance: Follow my blog for all things Lawless and upcoming projects

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  Twitter: @Emillermidnight

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  Also by Elizabeth Miller:

  The Midnight Series, McKenna Chronicles

  Midnight

  Midnight Sky

  Only Tonight

  Midnight Sun

  Chapter One

  The pretty little redhead was back. Her limp intrigued him, but the fire in her green eyes mesmerized him.

  He watched her, surreptitiously, as she grabbed the cart and made her way down the aisle, disappearing into the garden center.

  “Manager to the front desk.”

  He rolled his eyes but made his way to the front. There was an elderly man there with a pinched face who was nearly growling at his returns associate, Mellie. He assessed the situation and walked around behind the counter. This one would need the counter space to lean in at him and angry up the joint.

  “Hello sir, how can I help you?” All shit-eating grin and smiles.

  “You gotta disrespectful little customer in here. The damn woman keeps parking in the veteran’s courtesy spot. She just pulls herself right in and makes herself at home. Makes us veterans who use that spot walk further.”

  Gavin bit the inside of his lip. He didn’t need to be rude about this. “Unfortunately, sir, it is actually just a courtesy spot. It’s not a legal spot that we can enforce the rules on. I won’t disagree that it’s disrespectful, but sadly, like our expectant and young mothers spot, it’s something we have to work on the honor system. I think you’ll agree that most of the time our customers do respect it.”

  “I had to walk in this heat. Do you know what that does for my heat rash?”

  Makes you overshare? “I certainly understand sir. But as I said, it’s not a legally enforceable spot.”

  “Damned disrespectful.” He walked away muttering to himself. Gavin watched him walking away and turned to Mellie.

  “I’ll bet a dollar that woman served in Iraq and has every right to be there.”

  “No bet. Because you know he saw boobs and said, nerp not a vet.”

  Gavin nodded. “Keep an eye on him. Make sure he’s not harassing the other customers.”

  “Dude, I’m behind the counter. I can’t keep an eye on him. Get the floor crew to do it. Dumbass.”

  He shook his head. “Right, right. Duh.”

  Finding three employees close to the old man, Gavin told them what had happened and to keep an eye on him. They were to call him immediately if he started bothering people.

  But he left a few minutes later, still grumbling to himself, after buying a few tubes of caulk. It was a relief when left. He seemed like the kind of unkind person to call the cops on someone in a courtesy spot.

  He decided to reorder a shelf in the fasteners aisle. While Gavin might have been the general manager of Homes’ House and Garden Improvement Superstore, it didn’t mean he couldn’t stock a shelf. He always felt that it was important to lead by example—and since the owner, Mister Homes, loved the Costco model—they were often on the floor with the stockers and checkers.

  “Excuse me, could you help me?”

  Gavin tossed a look over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of the woman with flames for hair and emeralds for eyes standing behind him. He shoved the box on the shelf and gave her his undivided attached attention.

  “Sure thing what can I do for you?” He was shocked it didn’t come out sounding like he was storing marbles in his mouth. She was absolutely beautiful.

  “I’m looking for a locknut, and I can’t seem to find your stopcocks.”

  It was a curse of the male of the species that whenever a double entendre presented itself, their testosterone would cause fits of giggle like a prepubescent twelve year old with undescended testes.

  Gavin was no better. He couldn’t stop the giggle. Men didn’t giggle—except when it came to cock and balls. And he tried not to let the snort escape. Seven years working in a home improvement warehouses, and still the terms could make him a child. Stopcocks. Nuts. Buttweld. They all got him, every time.

  The woman also giggled, and before a moment the two of them were roaring with laughter and holding on to the cart for support.

  “I’m…I’m so sorry.” Gavin managed to get himself under control, a little. “You would think after so many years.”

  She shook her head. “No, no, I get it. I put the nuts too close to the cock.” Her eyes widened, and the laughter started again.

  Gavin motioned her to follow, not daring to speak again until he could get his laughter completely under control. Which, as it turned out, was all the way to the fasteners.

  Eventually, the two of them evened out and were able to choose the right fastener and head to the plumbing supply. The stopcock valve was at the bottom, which made them impossible to find, and Gavin had to kneel down to find the price.

  Once she had everything, the pretty redhead thanked him and gave him a shy smile. He returned the smile and then…she was gone, back up to the front to checkout and leave.

  Once again, Gavin forgot to ask her name and ask her out.

  * * *

  “You’re an idiot, Gavin. You know that.”

  The look he gave his best friend could have set fire to metal in an instant. “Dude, it doesn’t exactly feel right to ask her out when I’m laying prone on a cement floor looking for a price for her stopcock.”

  “Say stopcock one more time, Gav, and I’m going to wonder whose team you really play for.”

  “Fuck you, Mack.” He offered a middle finger as punctuation. “I really didn’t feel like it was the right time.”

  “When is it going to feel like the right time? You’ve been pining after this chick for about six months. She’s never come in with a guy and by this time, if she was seeing someone, they would have come in with her.”

  “Maybe she’s a lesbian.”

  “They still would have come in with her by this point.”

  “Maybe she’s in the closet.”

  Gavin turned and stared at Mack. “Whose goddamn side are you on? First I’m an idiot for not asking her out, and now you’re peddling her as a lesbian. Pick a side, dude.”

  Mack held up his beer. “I am the devil’s advocate.”

  “You’re a pain in the ass, that’s what you are.”

  “Well grow a set and ask her out when she comes in again. And don’t pretend you don’t know her schedule at this point. You do.”

  “She’ll be in on Thursday.”

  “You’re whipped, and you’re not even dating yet.”

  “Seriously. Pick a fucking side, dude.”

  Chapter Two

  “Did you see what went down last night?”

  Mellie’s words were all over him like a fly on shit before he’d even really had a chance to take a sip of his precious Wawa coffee. He wasn’t worth a damn before he could get the coffee in his gullet and she knew that.

  “Mellie.”

  “Mister Schwartz, I know damn well you need your liquid crack, so you have to realize what that what I’m attacking you with is actually really important.” Mellie held out her tablet for him. “Trust me please, you need to see this. It’s got the store tagged in it.”

  He put the coffee down. He always checked the social media when he got to his desk. Mellie was not effing around if she was shoving the tablet at him. Accepting the large electronic tablet, he sighed and looked at the post that Mellie had tagged and brought up for him.

  Bernadette Magillicuddy Friday 3:10 p.m.

  I have been a customer at Homes’ House Improvement Warehouse for several years now. I have been happy and pleased with everything I have gotten there, and the service is excellent. Never has there ever been a problem with the store or their products or employees.

  Until today. I parked and walked into the store to get a few more things that I
need for my home improvement project. I’m rebuilding a beautiful old home basically by myself. I know my way around power tools. Today, however, was a rough day for me. The weather had changed, I had a headache, and my foot was bothering me again. I don’t like it when my foot bothers me. It makes it hard to walk, and it makes me feel like I can’t take care of myself.

  So, on a concession to my usual bullheadedness when it comes to my foot, I parked in the courtesy spot Homes’ keeps available.

  The veteran’s spot.

  You see, my foot hurts because I had it nearly blown off while I was serving in Iraq. Someone attacked our camp and a lot of my fellow soldiers—infantry, transportation, medical and support corps—were killed and maimed in the attack. It was perpetrated by someone we had come to trust, and they blew us up. My foot was injured, but as a nurse, I pushed through. I was still in one piece. I was still alive, and I was a needed pair of hands to help the seriously wounded.

  I was told later on that I should not have done that. I should have stayed where I was and waited for my own help. But had I not gotten off the floor where I laid bloodied, wrapped my ankle and made a makeshift splint for myself, a hundred or more soldiers might have died. My comrades in arms.

  So I walked on it. And destroyed it. There was nothing left to my ankle. I was so badly maimed I was sent back Stateside to see what could be done. And since I got back nine months ago, I’ve been through dozens of tests and scopes and procedures. Sometimes, it just hurts.

  I do my best walking on it. I am mostly relegated to a desk at the hospital. I want to be more helpful, more hands on, but I can’t when my foot hurts as bad as it did—does—today.

  I didn’t want to use the veteran parking. But until my Handicapped plate and hanger come through, I have to once in a while.

  And today, when I returned to my car, I found a note. A nasty little note stating that I was wrong to park there. (The picture above.) For those who can’t read it:

  To the Nasty Woman Who Drives This Car:

  Don’t think we aren’t watching you. How dare you park here. Your able to walk, and walk well. And what makes you think you can take a spot reserved for a veteran? Don’t you have any respect for those who served this country? You desgust me and if I can find a legal way to have you ticketed and towed, I will.

  Korean War Vet

  Charlie Harding

  Well, Mister Harding, whoever and wherever you are, I hope you are pleased. I will make a greater effort to make sure that your misogynist view of the world is upheld, and I will walk on my already ruined ankle. I will walk from the back of the lot and carry my bags like any good, dutiful little woman. I will make sure that your sense of male pride is preserved in your service to the country in the form of a parking spot.

  Thank you for reading.

  His mouth was hanging open by the end of the post. The store was tagged, and there were a metric ton of hashtags that followed the post. Gavin was horrified and shoved the tablet back at Mellie. He grabbed the coffee and made a beeline for the main office upstairs where he knew the computer there was logged on to all the social media for the store. Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, SnapChat. Hell, the assistant had even set them up on Yelp, Reddit, Pinterest and StumbleUpon. He didn’t know anyone who still used StumbleUpon.

  Pulling up the account, he found the post immediately, and there were over one hundred replies. Worse a lot of them were negative toward the store. He had some serious groveling to do for this one. And he was going to find Charlie Harding when he walked in later that day. Because now he had his name and Gavin fully intended to have his ass for this shit.

  Homes’ House Improvement Friday 7:58 a.m.

  Ms. Magillicuddy:

  We here at Homes’ are truly sorry that this letter found it’s way to you. It’s unkind and unfair that anyone’s standing as a veteran is ever questioned. Your bravery does not go unnoticed, and this infraction to your person will not go unnoticed. Mr. Harding will no longer be welcome at Homes’, and we would like to apologize in person to you at your convenience. For your heartache at this note, and for your service to our country, please come and see Mr. Schwartz and we will make sure that you are not insulted for your position again at our store.

  Thank you for bringing this to our attention. We at Homes’ have nothing but the utmost respect for those who have served, male or female, whatever war it might have been. It is when someone crosses that line we must make decisions that we do not like.

  He sat back and couldn’t believe how fast he had typed that and sent it. And it actually sounded intelligent and apologetic. The screen pinged, and Mellie’s IM came up in the corner. Nicely done. That will def help.

  “Thanks,” he said, out loud, then realized she couldn’t hear him, and typed it.

  He had to find this Grumpy Grandpa and tell him to back down. In this day and age, he knew just about as many women veterans as men. They weren’t shooting on the front lines, but they were out there getting just as wounded in support as any man would. They were coming back in body bags just like the men were.

  And this woman was a former Army nurse. She was nothing to be trifled with. And that this jerkburger did it in front his store on his watch… Oh, he was pissed. Pissed.

  “Check it out, Gav.” Mellie was in the doorway. “You did good. Look at all the likes popping up, and the comments will start rolling in in a minute.”

  “I hate that it was up that long without our notice. Ugh. I’m going to have you come in here in the morning and Devlin at night just to check to make sure that this doesn’t happen again.”

  “What are you doing to do for her?”

  “Shit, whatever she wants. I was thinking of a one-hundred-dollar credit or something along those lines.”

  There was a ring at the service desk and Mellie waved, trotting away. Gavin walked over to the drawer where they kept all the compensation forms and started filling one out for a veteran credit in the form of a gift card. If the woman came in that much, she’d be happy to have it, and he hoped she would come back after she used it. That was a nightmare—giving someone a gift like that, with a heartfelt apology on behalf of the store and then having them never come back. Especially someone like this woman.

  “Manager to the front desk, please.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Gavin yelled at the speaker, this time knowing no one could hear him. He picked up the phone and called down to Mellie. “Right now? Right this instant.”

  “Yes sir, please. Mister Harding would like to talk to you.”

  “Of internet fame?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He slammed the phone down and sprinted down the stairs, swearing half way because he’d left the damn fresh coffee on the desk and he was going to need it. Foregoing his drink he made it the rest of the way down the stairs.

  And there stood the son of a bitch who had complained about the parking spot the week before, smiling like he had just laid a golden egg. It took everything Gavin had to not hit the asshole in his self-satisfied grin. “Mister Harding.”

  “Mister Schwartz, was it?” He looked at Mellie for confirmation. She nodded and stepped back seeing how angry Gavin was.

  “How can I help you?”

  “I wanted to let you know that I took care of your little parking problem. Finally had a chance to write her a nice little note about her disrespect and I’m pretty sure she won’t be back. If she is, I’m sure she won’t be parking there again.”

  “Did you take the spot this time, sir?”

  “Yes, I did. And I have every right to be there.”

  “I understand that. You also realize that there are other veterans in this town who need to use the home improvement warehouse. And as I explained last week, it is a courtesy spot. It’s not a legal situation. “

  “Well, she ought to have some damn courtesy.” He slammed his hand on the counter. “I am an old man, and it takes a lot for me to walk in here.”

  “I understand that, sir, but you’re
still not the only veteran in this town. I need you to not confront my customers about their parking habits. It’s not the end of the world if they use it, and you happen to be coming it at the same time. Do not leave aggressive notes on my customers’ cars again, Mister Harding. Do not approach my customers about their cars, parking spots or military service to this country. If you make such a stink about this again, I will have you removed, and you will not be welcomed back.”

  Millie did a little fist pump in the corner of his eye, and he whipped around to look at her. She had quickly turned to take care of something once she realized she had been spotted.

  “Are you really taking up with me?” Harding was clearly shocked that Gavin had spouted off at him.

  “I am, sir. This is not your business. This is not your personal crusade. And I will ask you to leave if you do this again.”

  Harding didn’t have a word to say. He was clearly taken back that his good deed would be shit on by the people he thought he was helping, but Gavin was so mad he didn’t care if he went back to the club house and told all his war buddies about this. He just didn’t care. People in polite society didn’t do things like that. And finally, after standing there like a fish trying to suck in water for a good thirty seconds, Harding walked away—back out the door.

  “I have never seen you so pissed.” Mellie didn’t get any closer.

  “I have rarely ever been this pissed. Fucking misogynst. Fucking nosey old man. I don’t need that shit in my store. How dare he?”

  “He dared because he forgets that women serve today.”

  The phone rang, and Gavin snatched it off the cradle. “Homes’ Warehouse, this is Gavin. How can I help you.”

  “Gavin, just the man I wanted to talk to.”

  He felt his eyes roll back in his head, and he stared up at the ceiling. The worst timing ever had just put him on the phone with the owner of the store. “Mister Homes. How can I help you?”