They’d taken it one step further, too. They wanted to catch him doing something embarrassing. He finally put himself on notice to watch his language—which he had to admit had gotten saltier the longer he was on the crew, as salty as it had been while he was in the Marines. He had to avoid all the things a man did while with his buds that he wouldn’t do in mixed company, like adjusting himself when his underwear got him in a bind or everything was sticky with sweat. So far he’d avoided those pitfalls.
They hadn’t filmed the titanium pylon with its shock absorber on his prosthetic because he wore work boots to cover the carbon fiber foot. There might come a time when he’d have to bare all in order to protect himself, but he wasn’t quite ready for that. Once people saw the prosthetic, their whole perception of him changed. He’d left home because his own father doubted his abilities and treated him like a cripple.
If he’d thought of all this stuff sooner, he might have called the whole thing off. But he was preparing for a siege, just as he had when he was in the military. He might never have to defend his right to do the work he enjoyed, but if it came down to it, he could prove he was just as able-bodied as the next man. Most of the time.
There would come a time when he wouldn’t be able to do the work. The skin and tissue on his stump might break down from the stress. He knew it. There were weekends he did without his prosthesis entirely to give himself a break from it.
But not this weekend.
“Guys, we have to take these things over to the other side of the project. They’ll be moved next week to another site. Get a move on,” he urged. The two men closed their phones and put them away. Julio helped him tie down the plastic tubes while Hector jumped into the truck and started it up.
“How ’bout I record you guys while you unload?” Cal asked while they drove around the perimeter of the building inside the fence.
Julio scowled. “You said you needed us to video you working.”
“Not constantly.”
Julio and Hector looked at each other and grinned. “We haven’t been,” Hector admitted.
Cal jerked his head around to stare at them both. Outrage punched him. “You assholes. I’ve been working my ass off all day.”
The two roared with laughter.
Anger heated his face. “I’m sitting in the truck while you two unload all this shit.”
“All right, Cal.” Hector’s shoulders continued to shake with mirth, although he stifled the sounds.
“You can rest tomorrow,” Julio said, his tone conciliatory.
Shit. They were forever playing jokes on each other. And they’d thought him friend enough to do the same to him… His anger dissipated. “I have a date tomorrow.”
“With the hot señorita Kathleen?”
“Don’t call her that, Hector.”
Hector’s brows rose.
He didn’t really know Kathleen, but she was more than a lush body and a beautiful mouth.
“I meant it in a very nice and totally respectful way, Callahan,” Hector said.
“I know. I’m just edgy.” And tired. All night the repercussions of losing his job had played through his mind, each scenarios worse than the last. The worst being having to return to Texas with his tail between his legs.
His brother had been supportive, but his father and mother had serious reservations about him working on the building sites. His parents’ constant worry and coddling had driven him crazy. Their lack of faith in him would have surely been crippling if he’d stayed around.
He wasn’t a cripple. Sure, he had some issues stemming from having lost a leg in combat, but he’d worked through the worst of them. He just had a little further to go.
He took off his hard hat and scrubbed his knuckles over his cropped hair. Hector pulled to a stop.
“You know how you guys feel when some of the guys make those fucked-up remarks about your green cards even though they know you’re American citizens?” He turned to Julio. “Or every time the cops roust you, thinking you’re a gang member when you’re just driving home after work?” These were things he knew happened on a regular basis in their neighborhood.
“Yeah,” Julio said. Hector nodded.
“In both cases, people are judging you because of your heritage. Their perception of you is skewed because of their prejudice. If I wore shorts to work and flashed my scars and my prosthetic, every man on this site would see me in a different way. Some of them would refuse to work with me because of it.”
He stopped to look at each man. “I haven’t said anything to any of the other guys because of that. If it becomes known among the crew, and it causes an issue, it will only support Warren’s case to get rid of me.”
“We have proof now that you are capable of doing the job,” Julio said.
“And they see you do the work, Callahan,” Hector added.
“It doesn’t matter. Perception is truth.”
Julio frowned. “When the other guys find out, what will you do? They’re bound to if asshole Warren keeps harping about it.”
“I’ll deal with it when it happens.” He rubbed his hands over his head once more, then put his hard hat back on and climbed out of the truck.
“I thought you said we were unloading,” Julio said.
“Three of us working will get it done faster than two, and I’m ready to go home, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, I am,” Julio was quick to answer.
Hector adjusted his hard hat and pulled on his gloves. “While we are working, Julio and I will tell you the secret of winning a woman’s heart and keeping her happy.”
Cal raised a brow. “And you two think you have something figured out the rest of us guys don’t know already?”
Julio shot him a look. “You know what they say about Latin lovers, Callahan. We have a reputation for a reason.”
Cal fought hard not to grin.
Julio grunted as he lifted one of the tubes. “The first thing to remember is to always tell the truth. Women will forgive you for many things, but lying to them isn’t one of them. They’ll say they forgive you, but they will remember forever, and whatever lie you tell them will come back to bite you on the ass.”
Hector nodded. “The next thing is to really mean what you say to them. If you tell her she has beautiful pechos,” Hector held his cupped hands in front of his chest, “believe it. Because if you don’t, it is the same as a lie.”
Julio added, “And don’t just tell her they’re beautiful, tell her in a way that will convince her.”
Cal slid a tube out of the bed of the truck into Hector’s hands. Kathleen did have generous breasts. That small hint of cleavage that had peeked out at him all night had whetted his appetite for more. “How the hell am I supposed to do that?”
“By telling her how it makes you feel when you see them.” Hector pointed a glove-covered finger at him. “But you must not say ‘seeing your breasts hace que mi polla dura.’ You must say it in a way that is romantic.”
Cal ran a hand over his jaw. He wasn’t good about sharing his feelings. Any of his feelings. How was he supposed to say something romantic when what he’d really be feeling is embarrassed and clumsy? And a hard dick was a hard dick. Where was the romance in that? Though as memory served, his ex had at times been very pleased with his.
“Women want to be romanced, Callahan. To know they are desired. My Carmela has grown round since giving me my children. But I still tell her how soft her skin is, how much I desire her. And she still blushes for me. And her smile.” Hector blushed himself.
Julio returned from stacking the pipe next to the rest. “Women try to hide those things they don’t like about their body. But in order to get naked with one, you must let them know you desire the whole package.” He grinned. “And you will be rewarded.”
By the time they’d finished unloading the truck, Cal’s ass was dragging, but as he drove home he continued to mull over all of Hector and Julio’s advice.
He’d flirted with girls in college a
nd never had a problem. But college girls’ expectations were much lower than a grown, independent woman’s. He’d have to up his game if he intended to impress Kathleen. He kept coming back to that moment when he kissed her fingertips to ease her embarrassment over the ink stains. She’d been worked up about something at work and had remained tense, but after that one small gesture she’d relaxed with him. And her smile—those lips…
As soon as he was home he shed his clothes and prosthetic and climbed into a hot tub of water to soak his tired muscles. He bathed his stump in antibacterial soap and massaged it, making certain he had no red spots or soreness. He’d pushed himself too hard today. Which meant he didn’t really need to be on his leg all day tomorrow.
Out of all the difficult things he’d learned over the last three years, accepting the signals his body sent when he’d overdone was one of them. He wasn’t even thirty yet, and yet he had to curtail his activities on occasion. Not often, but enough to make him resent it.
But he was still better off than others. Better off than his men who’d died in the Humvee. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes until the sting subsided.
He’d have to call Kathleen and change their plans. Maybe see if she’d be open to a drive, a movie, and dinner instead. They could do the zoo another time. If she didn’t change her mind about going out with him altogether.
He could understand her reluctance. To trust another man after the betrayals she’d experienced would be difficult. Although he’d be a pretty safe bet. It was hard enough for him to take on one woman, let alone several.
The water was cold by the time he climbed out of the tub and dried off. He sat on a towel on the toilet lid and put on underwear, sweat pants and a T-shirt. He balanced against the sink on one leg and washed his liner and hung it on the plastic form it was shipped on to dry, then grabbed the crutches he’d propped against the wall.
Once in the living room, he reached for his cell on the coffee table and texted Hector and Julio to send him their videos from today on the job site. He’d piece the clips together into some kind of sequence, like a day on the job type of thing. He settled on the couch with his laptop in his lap, and pulled up the website for a local cinema to see what was playing.
The awkward feeling that dogged him every time he thought about asking a woman out was already building to undermine his confidence.
Why was he still letting Stacy’s attitude mess with his mind? It had been damn near three fucking years since she rushed out of his hospital room and out of his life. Kathleen was a totally different woman. Stronger, more independent. He found her number and punched it.
“Hello, Callahan,” she greeted him. “How was your day?”
The helpless feeling subsided and he found himself smiling. “More than I bargained for. I was wondering if we could do something a little more laid back tomorrow and save the zoo for another day.”
“Sure. What do you have in mind?”
“How does a drive up the coast, dinner, and a movie sound?”
“Perfect.”
“Comedy or drama?”
“Definitely comedy. We’ll save the drama for another time.”
They spent a few minutes talking about the movies and decided on one.
“How was your day?” he asked.
“More than I expected, too.”
He heard the stress behind her words and frowned. “Anything you’d like to talk about?”
“Maybe tomorrow after I’ve had a couple of glasses of wine and a good night’s sleep.”
“Sounds like your first week on the job hasn’t met your expectations.”
“No, it hasn’t.” Once again the distress came through.
“Next week will be better, Kathleen. Just take it a day at a time until you hit your stride.”
She remained silent for a moment. “It wasn’t the work, Cal.”
The invitation came without him even thinking about it. “Would you like to come over and share a pizza? I was going to order one. I have beer, but no wine.”
She hesitated only a moment. “Sure. What’s the address? I’ll bring the wine.”
“Where are you coming from?”
They spent some time talking about the easiest way for her to travel from her brother’s house to his apartment. “If you get lost, call me and I’ll come find you.”
“I have Lolita to show me the way. I’ve named my GPS since I use it so much. If she doesn’t get me lost, I’ll see you in twenty-five minutes.”
“I’ll wait and order the pizza once you get here.”
Cal glanced around his place. It wasn’t spotless, but it would do. He stared at his absent ankle and foot. He could put his prosthetic back on, but the sweatpants wouldn’t hide a damn thing. Kathleen knew his lower leg was gone. It was best to get it out in the open and let her come to terms with it.
Maybe that’s what he’d done wrong before. Hiding the damn thing didn’t seem to make it any easier to accept. And why the hell had he attempted to do that anyway? It was a fact of life for him. Part of who he was. If she couldn’t deal with it…they’d only have invested one date and a pizza.
The pep talk wasn’t making too much headway against the knot of anxiety taking root in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t want Kathleen to be turned off by something he couldn’t control. He felt more carefree when he was with her. Her sense of humor kept him smiling.
And he’d dreamed more than once of those lips, painted bright red and leaving a trail of lipstick everywhere they went.
Chapter 7
‡
Try as she might, Kathleen hadn’t been able to shake the heartsick, angry feeling that dogged her all day. The promise of a slice of pizza and a glass of white wine didn’t ease it one damn bit. She’d never felt less hungry.
The thought of seeing Cal helped a little, though. Her response to him had guided her to say yes to his offer of an escape from her empty house and her thoughts.
She ached to be held for just a few moments. She wondered if it would be too soon for something like that.
Lolita’s voice instructed her to turn left, cutting through her emotional distraction. She flipped on her blinker and swung off the busy thoroughfare and onto a fractionally quieter, less frantic street.
She spied the sign for the four-plex at the same time Lolita said, “Destination on left.” The feminine voice projected satisfaction, or was that just her imagination? If the old girl had some pride in a job well done, who was she to question it? That was better than she’d felt today.
God, she had to shake this off and quit wallowing.
She fished her cell phone out of her purse, found Cal’s number, and punched it. “I’m in the parking lot.”
“Just climb the stairs. I’m the second door on the landing.
“Be right there.” She gathered her purse and the bottle of wine and got out. The wind had picked up and whipped her hair across her face, so she tucked the wine under her arm while she held her hair to one side and climbed the stairs.
The two apartments she’d looked at after work were farther away from the office and had been way too expensive. It might be smart to look into a place like this instead.
Cal stood at the door and held it open for her with a carefully placed crutch. Her gaze swept down to the bottom of his right pant leg, which hung empty. Pain punched at her shaky emotions, but she plastered a smile on her face.
“Thanks for asking me over. Zach’s doing maneuvers and hasn’t called or shown up.”
“I wanted to see you, Kathleen.”
Those simple words and his direct gaze triggered a smile.
“After we order our pizza, you can tell me what happened today that’s got you so worked up.” He swung forward on his crutches, releasing the door behind her. He was as skillful and athletic using crutches as on his feet. When he swung close, she caught the clean scent of soap, fabric softener, and him. His T-shirt, faded and worn, hugged his chest and shoulders like an old friend. His swea
t pants hung low on his hips.
Even dressed for comfort he looked sexy as hell.
When he turned his intent, searching gaze on her, she experienced a buoyant sensation in the pit of her stomach, and tingling ache of arousal ignited between her legs. Her mouth went dry, and she couldn’t think of a thing to say to break the silence.
He grinned. “Did you work late?” he asked, his fingers plucking at the sleeve of her blouse. Every nerve cell in her arm suddenly rose to attention.
“No. I’m apartment hunting, and I went directly to two different units right after work.”
“Any luck?”
She shook her head. “Both were too expensive for the space they had to offer, but then they were closer to the beach, too. I’d settle for something closer to work with lower rent.”
“Rent’s eighteen hundred a month here, but you have about nine hundred square feet of space.”
“That sounds wonderful.” As opposed to the twenty-four hundred a month for an area about as big as the interior of her car.
“I’ll give you the super’s number. He has other units in the neighborhood. There might be a vacancy.”
“I’d like that.”
“Want me to open that for you?” Cal asked, indicating the wine bottle she was clutching.
“Yes. Please.” She wandered around his living room while he opened the bottle. It was a typical bachelor pad, with a large flat-screen television, leather couch and chair, and a matching ottoman big enough to drive to work on. The shelving unit under the television held an eclectic collection of music CDs, DVDs, and books. She tugged free a volume on engineering as technical as some of her college textbooks.
“Why didn’t you go to college after you were discharged?”
“I actually enlisted in the Marines hoping to go to the Combat Engineering School. I thought with my experience…but by the time I got through boot camp, I learned I didn’t have enough college, and there weren’t any slots open, plus, what the Marine Corps needs at the moment is what you get when you enlist.”
She heard no bitterness in his voice and wondered at it. But even working in the Engineering Corps, he could have still been killed or injured.
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