Bedmates

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Bedmates Page 8

by Nichole Chase


  The little dog followed along, his tail wagging. I peered over the edge of the desk, watching them go. Jake opened the gate and motioned for Puz to go inside. Knowing Puz the way I did, I could imagine him looking up at Jake with those giant brown eyes while curling up on the cement.

  I chewed on my bottom lip and hoped that my ploy worked. My gut was screaming that the two belonged together and Jake was just being stubborn. Besides, if it didn’t work out, I’d bring the dog back—no harm, no foul. Puz would have gotten a little vacation from the shelter and no one would be upset.

  If I could have a dog, Puz would already have a home, but that wasn’t a good reason to not see him happy now.

  “Damn it.” The whisper reached my ears and I ducked behind the desk to hide my smile. “C’mon Puz.”

  I swiped the papers from the counter and stamped the last page. I set it on top of the desk with a pen and pretended to be busy.

  “Does he have a leash?” Jake picked up the pen and scribbled his information on the paper.

  “I’ve got one you can borrow. There’s a pet store on the way to town.” I picked up a yellow leash and set it next to him.

  “You’re dangerous, Maddie.” Jake looked at me and his dimple flashed.

  “I have no idea what you mean.”

  “You’re good. Sometimes I think there is no way you’re related to your father and then I leave a shelter with a three-legged dog unsure how it all happened.” He shook his head with a smile. “It’s obvious you inherited the McGuire magic.”

  “Hm.” McGuire magic? “Puz is up to date on all his shots and I’ll get you his medical records later. He doesn’t have any allergies and gets along with other animals and children. He’s house trained and leash trained. So you won’t have to worry about that. If you want to change his food I’d do it slowly so you don’t upset his stomach but, otherwise, he’s an easy dog to care for.”

  “Right.” His warm brown eyes narrowed on me. “Let’s go. This is your fault so you have to help me pick out his stuff at the pet store.”

  “Sure.” I came out from behind the desk and put the leash on Puz. “What are friends for?”

  I opened the front door for Jake and Puz but didn’t miss his smile when I called him my friend. If Puz liked him, then I really couldn’t hold on to my doubts. Especially after he spent two hours cleaning dog crap to prove he was my friend.

  Chapter 7

  Jake

  Soft skin covered in a sheen of sweat pressed against my chest.

  “Jake.” Plump lips tore from mine in a gasp of pleasure and I looked down into hazel eyes rimmed with gold. Electricity flooded my body as our gazes met and I jerked awake with a gasp.

  For the second time this week I’d dreamed about being inside of Maddie McGuire; feeling her move beneath me. The one woman that barely tolerated me, the one woman I wasn’t supposed to have, had started to haunt my dreams.

  “Damn it.” I gripped the sheets and fought the urge to rip them to pieces.

  I couldn’t have Maddie McGuire, not even if my body seemed to think I should. I’d thought it was hormones, pent-up lust from being out of the game for so long, but even sleeping with a sexy-as-hell redhead three weekends ago hadn’t been enough to knock my system back into line. Neither had the curly-haired lobbyist the week before. I’d been trying all the different flavors since I’d been back to normal—as normal as I’d ever be without my leg—and nothing eased the burn I had for a hazel-eyed, sharp-witted woman I wasn’t supposed to want. A woman I didn’t deserve.

  Well, every flavor except Ronnie again. I’d told her I wasn’t interested in a follow-up but she still called every few days offering to do more and more for me. I just couldn’t bring myself to even be interested. Seeing the pain on Maddie’s face over Ronnie had made it all but impossible to think of the leggy reporter with any sort of interest. In fact, I hadn’t been able to dig up any interest in anyone lately. After spending the time with Maddie picking out stuff for Puz at the pet store, I’d barely noticed any other woman. I was screwed. Or rather I wasn’t screwed, which was the problem.

  Watching Maddie over the last few weeks had been intriguing. Much more intriguing than I had thought she would be. She had grown out of her shell and was so much more comfortable speaking in public. When I’d left for officer school she’d barely been able to mutter a sentence in front of the cameras without turning red. But now, it felt as if she’d stopped hiding. No longer was she trying to be the perfect daughter, she’d simply found a way to be herself without apology.

  And the media and public ate it up. They called her refreshing and honest. She might not care much for the attention, but the world couldn’t seem to get enough of her blunt personality. People loved her open manner, the fact that she spoke with everyone as though they were equals. Pictures of her sweaty and hauling materials around the worksite had filled the news shows and papers. She was one of them.

  Ironically, she was exactly what my mother had hoped I would be for her campaign.

  Maddie didn’t shy away from getting sweaty. She might be a D.C. debutante but that didn’t stop her from earning blisters with the rest of us. She hadn’t hesitated to do whatever had been asked of her. There had been moments when I’d been ready to rest but kept pushing because Maddie never stopped. I wasn’t about to rest while she toiled around the worksite. By the middle of the week I was more than a little sore.

  Stretching in bed, I grimaced as something caught on the left side. They’d removed all the shrapnel embedded in my side but the scar tissue hurt when pulled at the wrong angle. I could deal with the scar tissue; it was the phantom pains in my leg that drove me insane.

  There was a scraping noise and I looked over at the floor to see Puz holding his leash in his mouth. Shit. He needed to go out and it was raining.

  With a groan I sat up in bed and threw the covers off. I took a few minutes to massage just below my knee before attaching my prosthetic. I stood up carefully, letting everything adjust before walking to the kitchen. I’d bought the brownstone sight unseen before coming back to D.C. The thought of moving back into the Vice President’s home had caused my blood pressure to rocket.

  “Come on.” I clipped the leash to Puz’s collar and took him downstairs. I grabbed the obnoxious little poop bags Maddie had insisted I buy and took the dog for a quick walk around the block.

  There was no way that I could have dealt with seeing my mother that often. It was bad enough that I had to have daily chats with her henchmen. Someone from her campaign office came every morning to update me on how things were going, if they needed more quotes for marketing, or photo ops with other wounded soldiers.

  I knew that while doing things my mother’s way I was also getting to do something good for my fellow military. Of course, some days it was easier to hold on to the positive aspects and other days it was almost impossible to keep from pounding my fists onto the countertops while being told what to wear and when to smile.

  Puz grunted when we reached the wet pavement and stopped to take a giant dump next to my neighbor’s flower.

  “Dude, that is nasty.” I scooped up his mess and threw the little baggie in the nearest trash can. I wasn’t carrying that around the whole block. “No more pizza for you.”

  By the time we’d gotten back to the house Puz had peed on every house, tree, and signpost. I was starting to worry he’d be dehydrated at this rate.

  I filled his bowl of water and added food to his dish, but the dog ignored it and crawled back onto the giant pillow that was his bed and wriggled under the throw blanket he’d stolen from my couch. I took the time to scramble eggs and drink a glass of orange juice before changing into work clothes. By the time I’d checked e-mail, there was a Secret Service agent at my door waiting to take me to the construction site.

  “I’ll be back tonight and the housekeeper will check on you this afternoon.” I pointed at Puz who peeked out from under his blanket. “Don’t growl at her purse again. It’s just a
handbag, got it?”

  The dog snorted at me and then closed his eyes, signaling that he was done listening to me. I sighed. I was going to have to clear out a shelf for the housekeeper to put her things. Apparently the first day she’d come over Puz had spent the entire day growling at her bright yellow ostrich purse, and she was worried he’d tear it up.

  Not that I could really blame him.

  Mom’s flunky was waiting in the Suburban to enlighten me on the days itinerary. I barely listened, just nodded at the right intervals. The family receiving the house was supposed to be coming today and there would be media.

  I rubbed my sweaty palms on my jeans. This was why I had agreed to do any of this stuff for my mother. Meeting the family benefiting from everything shouldn’t make me nervous. At least it had stopped raining.

  The press was waiting when we arrived. Considering that it was barely eight in the morning, I imagined some of them really hated their job.

  “Has the family arrived?” I looked at the pencil pusher across from me.

  “Um, no.” He scrolled through his phone. “Looks like the Holland family is about thirty minutes behind us.”

  “Holland?” My gut clenched and I really looked at the other man in the backseat. “Cyrus Holland?”

  “Yes.” He drew the word out, making it obvious that I should have already known that fact. “Your mother had his family moved up on the list. She thought you would appreciate it.”

  Cyrus Holland was the only surviving member of my team. We hadn’t talked since I saw him in the hospital in Germany. He’d just come out of another surgery and I was being bundled off in a private plane for the States. He’d lost both an arm and a leg on my mission as well as suffered a head injury. When I’d been trapped under the wreckage, I’d heard his screams of pain, him crying for his wife, and meeting his eyes in that hospital had been the most difficult moment of my life.

  And now I was going to face him again . . . In front of a dozen cameras and reporters.

  That made the giant glass of orange juice and panful of scrambled eggs I’d eaten that morning a terrible idea. The bile in the back of my throat seemed to mock my earlier appetite.

  Blood thundered in my ears and I took a few deep breaths while I counted to ten. One of the Secret Service agents opened the vehicle door and I was left with no option but to climb out. I waved for the cameras before slowly making my way to the clump of people talking where the front door would eventually stand. Anxiety spiked through my veins and I felt like bolting.

  But I wasn’t at the point where I wanted to punch things. That meant I could turn it around.

  “Lovely couple. They have a little boy and another on the way.” Trina was looking at her clipboard, going over her daily rundown for the volunteers. “We’re expecting even more media, but that’s nothing we aren’t used to at this point.”

  “Thanks to Captain Hottie-pants,” one of the volunteers mock whispered.

  “Hey, now. Leave my pants out of it.” I held my hands up and smiled. At least I think I was smiling.

  “Your pants? I was talking about Maddie.” The short brunette laughed. “Have you seen those jeans?”

  “Oh.” I leaned back. Talk about putting my foot in my mouth.

  “Would you like some water?” Kremdenski the foreman offered. “To ease the burn?”

  Trina threw her head back and laughed loudly. Yes, I could turn around my bad mood. It was hard not to when surrounded by such good people.

  “I’ll heal on my own, thanks.” I shook my head and couldn’t help a rueful smile. “Speaking of our illustrious coworker, when will she be here?”

  “Maddie’s been here for two hours.” Trina nodded to one of the work trucks. “She wanted the house to look homey.”

  “Hard to do when we just barely got the drywall up,” Kremdenski huffed.

  “Two hours?” I tucked my hands in my pockets and watched as Maddie walked from the truck to the house carrying a large box. “What is she doing?”

  “We laid out samples for the family to look over. It’s nothing over the top, but she insisted that they get to choose paint colors, cabinets.” The short girl that had teased me earlier spoke up again. “She sent me to the Home Depot to get welcome mats.”

  “Heh.” I watched as she carefully climbed the stairs and noticed the brown mat at the door’s edge.

  “She’s something else, isn’t she?” Trina tsked. “Pretty sure she’d let me work her into the ground if I tried. Just watching her makes me want another coffee.”

  “How do you want to handle the Holland family when they get here?” I changed the subject, because thinking about watching Maddie made me want to do lots of things and none of them included coffee. I wasn’t sure that was the direction I needed to focus while balancing on a sharp edge of anxiety.

  “Let’s get them straight to the house. The press can have their go afterward.” Trina smiled. “I heard this was one of your boys.”

  “I wouldn’t call him my boy, but yes, we served together. I didn’t find out until this morning that his family was getting the house.” I counted between breaths, hoping my agitation didn’t shine through. “I haven’t seen him since Germany.”

  “I’ve talked with his wife several times this week and she’s a sweetheart. Couldn’t be more excited to get the house.” Trina cocked her head to the side. “They lost their home right after Cyrus got back to the States. Medical bills, loss of work, you name it. They just couldn’t keep up. A real shame.”

  “How’d they make it to the top of the list so quickly?” My gaze drifted to the road. It would be okay. Even if Cyrus hated me, it wouldn’t be the first time I’d spent a few hours working with someone that hated me.

  “Well, being that he’s a double amputee, they were already pretty far up, but when we found out they were expecting another child it gave them a little boost.” Trina tapped her ever-present clipboard against her thigh. “They were living with her parents in a two-bedroom home in Norfolk. They needed their own space.”

  “How has his recovery been so far?”

  “Slow but steady. Still not able to work, but he’s in good spirits. Really looking forward to being a stay-at-home father for a while.”

  “That’s positive.” The road seemed to open up as another black sport utility vehicle made its way to the construction house.

  Someone dropped something heavy behind the house and I ducked, ready to take cover. It wasn’t until someone cleared their throat that I realized I was freaking out. Loud noises triggered my fight-or-flight instinct every time. I’d need to get some earplugs if I wanted to make it through the day without scaring anyone.

  “Look happy, people! They’re here. Sandy, go let Maddie know it’s time.” Trina reached out and touched my shoulder. She didn’t say anything but I nodded my head so she would know I was okay.

  The brunette took off running toward the house and disappeared inside. I watched the SUV as it pulled up to the curb and one of the PR leaders opened the door and another pushed a wheelchair around to the sidewalk.

  A pretty blonde woman climbed out of the car slowly, before helping a toddler out. The child clutched one of her hands while her other slipped around to her lower back. Someone said something from inside the car that made her laugh before she shook her head.

  The goon that had been following me for the day jerked his head in their direction and I sighed. They’d looked happy. And here I was to throw them in the limelight and ruin their moment.

  “Kyla?” I said the wife’s name on a croak and cleared my throat. I’d remembered because it had been burned into my brain the day I’d been stuck under the helicopter. Cyrus had called for her until he passed out. It had haunted my dreams for months afterward.

  “Oh my Lord, Cyrus! He’s really here!” The woman turned to me and threw her arms around my neck. “They said you’d be here, but it just didn’t seem real!”

  “It’s nice to finally meet you,” I said. I gave her a gentle hug
in return, aware of how her belly pressed against me.

  “Jake?” Cyrus stuck his head out of the SUV. Panic hit me at the sound of his voice. “Shit, they didn’t need to drag you out here for this, man!”

  He climbed carefully out of the car. He was wearing a prosthesis attached to his right shoulder and another just below his right knee. Not once did he glance at the wheelchair. Instead, he moved confidently toward me and threw his good arm around my neck. I was shocked by the warmth in his eyes.

  It was hard to connect the pain and horror from the past with this little family on a sunny day.

  “It’s good to see you, man. I wasn’t sure I’d ever see you again after Germany.” He touched the scar along his cheek with a rueful smile. “And not just because of this.”

  “It’s good to see you, too.” The funny thing was that despite all of my pent-up anxiety it was a relief to see him smiling. “Are you going to introduce me to your family?”

  “You met Kyla, she’s a hugger.” He held his hand out to his wife with a grin. “And this here is Korbin. He’ll be three in a month.”

  “Just in time for his little sister’s arrival.” Kyla patted her stomach.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Korbin.” I held my hand out to the little boy but he hid behind his mother’s leg. Considering the clamoring of the press and all the cameras I didn’t blame him. “I heard that you’re getting your very own big-brother room. Are you excited?”

  “Trucks!” Korbin peered around his mother’s leg.

  “I promised him a truck room.” Kyla blushed.

  “That sounds like a good plan.” I nodded my head. “Are you ready to see your new house? It’s not finished yet, but it will be ready for you soon.”

  “I feel like I’m on one of those television shows.” Kyla fanned her face. “I can’t believe we’re getting a house. I don’t want to cry but I’m not making any promises.”

  “This is awesome, man.” Cyrus shook his head. “We really appreciate it.”

  “C’mon, I’ll show you the house and introduce you to the crew from RCVA.” I headed toward the house, sad that there wasn’t a pretty lawn in place. Now that I thought about it, it didn’t seem very homey. “Watch your step, there are nails everywhere. We’ll get them all cleaned up once we’re done.”

 

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