by Vonnie Davis
On their way to a booth, a child pointed at Dustin. “Look at him. He’th ugly. He’th thcary, like a monthter!”
Her gaze narrowed on the rude kid who’d blurted her date looked like a monster. Too bad the youngster’s parents, Mark and Nina, hadn’t taught him better.
To her surprise, Dustin stopped and pushed back his ball cap. “What’s your name, son?”
The kid’s eyes widened as he stared at Dustin. “Duth…Duthtin McGrath.” The loss of his two front teeth gave him a temporary lisp.
“Hey, that’s my name, too. Is that cool, or what? I didn’t always look like this, Dustin. I was injured in the war. That’s where I got the scars. I was in a building when it exploded.”
“Did…did anyone die?”
“Yes, my Navy buddy. He had three children back home, so now they’re without a daddy. Sad, isn’t it?” The little boy nodded. “I’m new in town. Would you be my friend, Dustin?” He held out his large hand and the child slipped his smaller one into his. They shook hands. “You be good for your mommy and daddy, now.”
“I will.”
“You were in the SEALs?” The boy’s father motioned to Dustin’s cap.
“Yes, sir, I was. Still am. I’m just on medical leave right now. I lost my left leg from mid-calf down, so I need some healing and heavy physical therapy time. Then I go back for another evaluation to see if they’ll keep me or give me a discharge.”
“Were you in Syria?”
Dustin nodded. “But that’s really all I can say. Our missions are secret, so we don’t speak of them.” He turned his attentions to the child again. “Next time you see someone who looks like me, or worse, there may be a reason why they’re like that. A reason that person can’t help, my friend. So say something nice to them. Okay?”
“Okay. Are you a hero?” The child stared at him with expectant eyes.
Dustin’s neck reddened. The boy’s father spoke up. “Yeah, Dusty, he’s a hero.”
Kelcee sensed Dustin had had enough talking to strangers. The fact he’d stopped to explain his appearance to a little boy surprised her, especially after his earlier confession that just the thought of walking into this restaurant made his stomach queasy. Yet he was battling his fears to help a child understand. Her heart swelled with pride for this wounded warrior.
She took his hand. “Let’s order, sweetheart. I’m starved.”
The father stood and shook Dustin’s hand. “The name is Mark McGrath. I run the local feed store and lumberyard. This is my wife, Nina, who has a full-service beauty shop in town. Thank you for your service, Dustin.”
“Your gratitude is greatly appreciated, Mark.” Dustin’s face was pale when he wrapped his arm around Kelcee’s shoulders. They slid into opposite sides of a booth and he planted the heels of both palms into his eyes. A waitress hurried over. Kelcee ordered a margarita and Dustin couldn’t seem to speak. “He’ll have a shot of tequila and a beer chaser. Is that okay with you?” He nodded and grabbed a napkin from the holder and wiped beads of sweat from his face. The waitress sat a bowl of warm tortilla chips and salsa on the table before she hurried off for their drinks.
“Holy hell. Tell me that’ll get easier.”
She took his clammy hand and squeezed it. “That couldn’t have been easy for you. Yet, you taught a little boy a valuable lesson. You just made an important step. I’m proud of you.”
He sat back and looked at the ceiling, exhaling a long breath. “I wasn’t going to stop, but the SEAL in me wouldn’t let me run, no matter how much the chickenshit man inside wanted to walk out that door and get in the truck.”
A small hand rested on his arm. “Duthtin?”
He looked at the little boy. “Yeah, Dusty?”
“I’m thorry I thaid you were thcary looking. My daddy thaid to be a THEAL, you have to be the betht of the betht.” He scooted his little behind onto the seat beside Dustin. “I…I wanna be a THEAL when I grow up.”
“Now that would be awesome. Do you get good grades? You can’t be a SEAL if you flunk classes.”
The kid nodded. “I’m in firtht grade. I ain’t flunked yet.” His little pigeon chest puffed out with pride.
Dustin glanced at her, humor dancing in his eyes. “Wow, I’m impressed. Can you swim?” The boy smiled and nodded again. “This is the hard part. Can you take orders? When your momma tells you to clean your room or your daddy asks you to get your toys out of the driveway, you have to do what they ask. ’Cause SEALs follow orders.”
Dusty sighed. “I wath doing tho good until you got to that part.”
“Well, now you have something to work on.” Dustin elbowed him. “Right, buddy?”
Nina walked over while Mark went to pay their bill. “Kelcee, I didn’t know you were dating.” She winked at her. “And such a handsome man, too.” She touched Dustin’s arm. “I hope Dusty isn’t bothering you.”
“Not at all, ma’am. We’re just talking man stuff.” He ruffled the boy’s red hair. “I’m glad you’re my new friend, Dusty.” Dustin removed his SEALs hat and made an adjustment to the back before placing it on the boy’s head. “Here, wear this until you earn your own.”
The kid’s face beamed. “Really? It’th mine? Wait ʼtil the kidth thee thith. Thow and Tell ith on Monday. I’m taking it in to thow off. Latht week we had to look at Miranda’th collection of Barbie dollth.” He pulled a scowl. “Totally boring. But not thith.” Dusty took the hat off and touched the gold pin.
“That’s a Trident. It’s the symbol of the SEALs. SEALs stand for the places we excel at and work in—sea, air, and land. For example, sometimes we parachute out of airplanes over the ocean, land in the water, and swim a mile or two to reach land and complete a mission before anyone knows we’re there.”
“Wow,” the boy breathed before he gave Dustin a healthy dose of hero worship as he popped to his knees and kissed the scarred cheek he’d once thought ugly. “Bye, hero.” He socked his cap back onto his head, took his mom’s hand, and marched off.
Dustin looked like he’d been, as Frank used to say, “poleaxed.” His lower jaw moved side to side and he blinked rapidly. She covered his balled fist with her hand. “Even now, you make a difference.”
He didn’t respond. The waitress served their drinks and Kelcee told her they hadn’t decided yet on what to order. Dustin downed his tequila shot and gulped his beer. “Be back,” was all he could force out before he charged for the door, nearly jerking it off its hinges when he yanked it open.
Part of her wanted to run after him, but she knew he needed his space to work through his emotions. She could be his friend, she could be more, but she couldn’t heal him or make him happy. He had to do that himself. If she helped open his heart to those changes, she’d be relieved, for he was a decent man. The more time she spent with him or talking to him on the phone, the more she was drawn into the awareness of all his good points, deep down where it counted. It was his scars—inside and out—that controlled him now. Only he could regain parts of the person he once was. The ghost of the admirable man she saw whether he wanted her to, or not.
The waitress came by to see if they’d decided and Kelcee ordered two large variety platters. Dustin could eat what he wanted of the assortment. She was so hungry, she’d finish hers, no problem.
In a matter of minutes, he sauntered back in, wrapped his hand around her cheek, and leaned to kiss her. His lips were warm on hers, warm and somehow toe-curling and possessive. “Sorry. Big, bad SEAL thrown by a first grader with a toothless lisp. Took a trip around the parking lot to get control again.”
She glanced deep into his eyes and saw the remaining effects of an emotional battle he’d waged with himself. Although his current cavalier attitude was cute, she wasn’t buying it.
He sat and took her hands, rubbing his thumbs over her knuckles. That slow, sexy grin she loved grew and blossomed. “Now, about that black garter belt…”
Chapter 10
The rise of a blush kissing Kelcee’s fair che
eks was a sight to behold. Dustin’s battle with his demons that sought to pull him back into his dark place had been tougher than he’d let on to the woman across from him. Hell, just the simple act of watching her squirm in her seat and blush the color of ripe strawberries was spoils enough for winning the fight. Her irritated green eyes snapped to his. Fuckin’ A. She’d be worth anything.
“I’m not going to discuss that with you here.”
“Where, then? Your place?” He knew he was pushing her, but damn the flash in her eyes when she got pissed. How could that possibly arouse a man, but hell if it didn’t him. He did a little squirming in his seat himself, his erection pointing out it was most definitely aroused—and in a damn big way, too.
Their order arrived, and he tucked into a bean burrito. “God, this is good, Kitten.” He wiped the tears from his eyes and coughed. “Spiced just right.” They both laughed.
Fran came over and hip-bumped him into sliding farther into the booth. “Dustin, I saw how you treated the young McGrath boy.” She pressed a hand to her ample chest. “Land sakes, he’ll remember tonight for the rest of his life. My sweet man, when you gave him your ball cap, I cried. Didn’t I, Silver Stud?” She glanced across the table at Clint, who’d taken a seat next to Kelcee.
Clint nodded and bumped shoulders with Kelcee. “It was a three-hankie cry.”
Dustin typically liked weird, which was one of the reasons he loved his SEAL brothers—weird motherfuckers, all—so the almost instantaneous connection with these two came as no surprise. Hell, Sugar Loaf? Silver Stud? Three-hankie cry? Damn, these weird characters were more than half-likable. They were totally to his liking.
He hadn’t allowed himself or simply hadn’t been capable of feeling for strangers so quickly. His gaze slid to Kelcee and her sunshine smile. Until her. Something about the fiery redhead made him feel again.
Once their meal was over, he held her hand to walk to the truck. “That was nice. We’ll have to do it again.”
“Yes, it was. I was proud of you tonight. I know parts of it were difficult.”
“Which parts? The wannabe SEAL, Sugar Loaf and Silver Stud, or my worrying about your thigh-highs and black-lace garter belt?”
She shot him a sidelong glance that, even in the dark, blazed with temper. Another emotion he hadn’t felt deeply in a long time took root and sprouted. Happiness. He spun her into his arms, lifted her, and awkwardly swung her around twice—grateful for all his hard work in physical therapy—as he laughed at her squeals. “God, woman, you fire me up.” He slid her down the length of him. Her sudden gasp when she made contact with his hard-on was monumental to his male ego.
So were her hands fisting in his hair and her lips fusing with his. Hell, he wasn’t the only one turned on. He backed her against the truck, deepening the kiss. She bit his lower lip and he damn near turned savage, growling deep in his throat.
“Come back to my place. And I can’t believe I just asked you this.” Her hands caressed his shoulders. “Earlier you said I had to decide if I could date a wounded warrior. I feel like we’ve been dating since you called me twice in one day. Although I didn’t want to admit to my feelings. I mean, why should I get involved with a guy who may only be in the area for a couple months at best?” She laid her cheek against his shoulder and sighed. “I think that decision’s already been made. I’ll take you for however long you’re here, big guy.” She kissed his neck, then bit his earlobe.
This woman was something else. A dream, almost. She had a way of bringing out emotions in him he didn’t think he could ever feel again. Protectiveness, pride for her and himself, and—yes, dammit—lust. He pressed his cheek to the top of her hair.
“You need to see if you can make love to a man with part of his leg gone. Will it repulse you? We won’t know until we try. Sex is not a requirement tonight, but looking at my body is. I need for you to see my stump.”
“Okay. Although I don’t get why you think a stump might repulse me. It’s the whole package, the strength and gentleness of you, that attracts me, hell, even your alpha attitude you automatically toss around. Just like I throw down a temper tantrum now and then.”
“Woman, you’ve never seen me throw a tantrum. It’s damn ugly.” In the moonlight, he peered into the genuine sentiment in her eyes and nearly tumbled into their warmth. If she was repulsed as Hailey had been, he wasn’t sure how he’d handle it. In such a short time, her opinion of him mattered; it mattered a lot. He unlocked her door and helped her into the truck.
Even though they held hands on the short drive to the bookstore, both were quiet. He chalked her silence up to fear. And why not? Damned if he wasn’t scared himself. No man liked being vulnerable, not on the battlefield and for damned sure not with a woman. He had no doubt he wanted to date Kelcee. Meeting her unfurled something in him like his mom’s crocuses peeking out of the frozen ground in early spring, seeking the sunlight’s warmth. Kelcee was one precious spitfire that turned him on in a heartbeat. There was also a touch of vulnerability about her that stroked his need to protect. He’d yet to figure it out, but the sentiment couldn’t be denied. She had a way of making him feel ten feet tall. To a wounded warrior, that meant a helluva lot.
For any future for them to happen would mean he’d be staying on at the ranch with ZQ and Junebug. He was eligible for a medical discharge, but he’d been fighting that; maybe he needed to reconsider his options. A job, hell, he’d need a job to bring in some income. He’d have his puny medical pension from the service and his savings. So many decisions to make, none of which needed doing right away. He had this first big hurdle to get over: her seeing him naked. Who knew, maybe his hopes would be dashed by her repulsion.
He eased the truck into a parking space in front of the store, shifted in her direction, and fingered her soft hair. “Are you still sure you want me to come in? I don’t want to rush you.” His thumb swept along her jawline and across her full lips. She opened her mouth slightly and bit the pad of this thumb. A jolt of pain and pleasure ripped through his system.
“Yes. I want us to make love and I want to spend the night in your arms. I won’t lie and say one-night stands or brief affairs are my style. They aren’t. But I like you, big guy. I respect you and you turn me on.” She took his hand in hers. “I’m prepared emotionally to enjoy us for as long as you’re here. When you have to go back to active duty, I’ll deal.” Her voice had a panicky quality to it during the last sentence, and he understood why. For he struggled with the same emotion. Leaving her would be damn difficult.
Once inside, Kelcee locked the door behind them and led Dustin through the dimly lit bookstore. He opened the door to her apartment stairway and she turned on the light. Moving at a slower, more awkward pace, he followed her up the steps, grateful she didn’t ask if he was doing okay. Tonight, of all nights, he needed to be treated as much like a whole man as possible. For the hounds of hellacious panic attacks were nipping at his heels, both flesh and titanium.
Stopping at a door on a small landing, Kelcee unlocked it. She flipped on the light switch as they stepped into a pale green living room with a floral rug. A forest green sofa and a large wooden rocker with a floral seat and back cushion matched the pillows on the sofa. An old rolled-top desk occupied an end wall as did some plotted plants on both ends of the desk. Across the corner was a flat-screen TV on a stand filled with DVDs. There were sliding glass doors leading to what appeared to be a deck or balcony. Although the place was sparsely furnished, she’d added touches to make it homey. Two matching antique suitcases sat on top of each other on the floor. The larger one was closed, while one a few inches smaller sat on it, open and filled with hardback books and a small planter of ivy growing along the lid. A lace doily was folded over the edge.
A modern kitchen was beyond the living room. Just off where the two rooms joined was a hallway leading to a small office and bathroom on one side and a blue bedroom on the opposite side of the corridor. She took his hand and led him to her bed, covered in
blue and purple tiny flowers.
“This bedroom furniture belonged to Frank. I kept it and polished the wood. The mattress set is new, though.” She turned on the bedside lamp and folded back the bedspread. Her open hand fluttered around. “I bought new lamp shades and added some plants. Found a few pictures of the sea at some yard sales. Fran and I like to go and scrounge around.”
His Kitten was nervous, jittery. How could he soothe her? “I can tell you’re a plant person. You have a green thumb.”
“Well, I can bake and grow plants and clean. My cooking skills aren’t the best. I can really butcher a fried egg. And you could make bullets out of my steaks, they get so tough. I pretty much live on salads and cookies. Both of those I can make—easy-peasy.”
Sensing her nervousness, he sat and patted the bed next to him. “Let’s take our shoes off and lie in each other’s arms. What I’m ready for, you might not be. So, for now, we’ll snuggle and talk.”
“Snuggling always sounds nice.” Her smile was sweet, as always.
He untied his sneakers and removed them while she unbuckled her high heels and slipped them off. To his surprise, she positioned herself between his feet and pulled off his black stockings.
“I want to see your prosthesis. Is it hard or more fleshlike?” Her hands slid over it. “Take your pants off. Let me see the whole thing. I know I’m curious.” She shrugged. “I can’t help it, it’s how I’m wired.”
Hell, she didn’t waste any time. Sweat beaded on his forehead. Man up. Take the next step and show her what she wants to see. Either she can handle it or she can’t. Better to find out now before she had the ability to rip his heart out and toss it back at him in spikey confetti pieces.
“Big guy, do you want to see me naked tonight?” Her eyebrows rose in question or challenge, he wasn’t sure which, but she used that breathy voice that always revved his engines. He rose, unzipped his slacks, pushed them off, and sat again. She shoved him back onto the bed. “I want to examine your artificial leg. Like I said, I’m a person who asks a lot of questions. I also like to touch things. You’ll have to get used to that.”