“You don’t realize it, but the reason you and Dad go at each other all the damn time is you’re just alike. I may look more like him, but you act just like him. Throwing your weight around, demanding things.”
He wasn’t like his father. He didn’t try to browbeat people into doing things, he just told them what needed to be done and expected it to be taken care of. If he could teach Doug that one basic approach, he’d be able to walk away from this.
“If you’d spent more time learning the ropes instead of just putting in your time, I wouldn’t even be involved in any of this, Doug.”
Doug’s features took on a bitter cast. “What do you know about it? You try wrestling away any small piece of control from Dad. Every time I tried to take the initiative, he shot me down. He doesn’t even know the concept of constructive criticism, just plain hard criticism. He never looks for the good, just the other stuff that needs to be taken care of.”
The underlying pain in his brother’s voice struck a chord with Cal. “Bosses aren’t usually very good about handing out compliments. They figure you get paid, so what are you whining about? I know Dad’s like that. In the military, I didn’t get pats on the back, but I did get promotions.
“There’s no such thing as a promotion when the man in charge is your father and the boss. The men think I’m only on the job because I’m his son.”
“Then it’s up to you to show them you know the job as well as they do, or better. Like today, I had to take up a hammer and show them I knew what needed to be done and how to make it happen. Once they saw I was as competent as they are, and knew how to get it done, they got with the program. You can’t give an order and jump in the truck and take off. You have to provide a presence. Let them know you’re in charge.”
He’d been upset about being shut out, but he didn’t envy his brother’s life with his father. He paused a moment to really give the core issue some consideration. If he could assume control of the company, would he want it? In fact, it wasn’t control he wanted, just the recognition that his leg didn’t create a barrier to it. The realization eased the bitterness he’d carried for such a long time.
He took charge on the job all the time back in San Diego. He was treated with respect because he did the job, and did it well. His brother needed this more than he ever had. Doug had lived in his father’s shadow long enough to have earned it.
His Dad had done a fine job of tearing Doug down. Now he’d have to build him up so he could take charge. Otherwise Cal would be stuck here indefinitely.
Chapter 17
‡
Miraculously, Dr. Dowling was able take her on the spur of the moment. And now she was here in her office, Kathleen wanted to be anywhere else in the world.
Kathleen stared at an original watercolor on the wall and tried to make out the name of the artist from where she sat.
“Have you changed jobs, or had any other change in your situation since we talked before?”
“No, I haven’t changed jobs, but I’d like to. Every time I walk across the lobby, I remember the confrontation with Paul Warren. I’ve started going out the back entrance to avoid going through the lobby at the end of the day.
“Staying at Wylie’s probably wasn’t the best decision after everything that happened there. But I’m afraid if I quit, I’ll have to acknowledge I’m a quitter, and I just can’t allow myself to do it.”
Dr. Dowling leaned forward in her chair and rested her elbows on the desk. “If you were a quitter, Kathleen, you’d have turned tail and run home to Boston nine months ago.”
She almost had. A psychotic woman who’d killed her lover held Kathleen hostage for twenty hours, tortured her with a Taser, and attempted to kill her by shoving her off the top of a building under construction. It was mind-bendingly crazy to even think it could happen, let alone happen to her.
“You chose to stick it out and try to move on. That was a brave decision, Kathleen.”
“I couldn’t leave Zach and Callahan. I’d just gotten to spend some time with Zach. He came home to Boston maybe one time a year. Now I see him at least two or three times a month.”
She turned her head to look directly at Dr. Dowling. “Why is this coming back on me now? I was doing great, or at least I thought I was.”
“Has there been any other changes recently?”
As much as she wanted to ignore the possible repercussions of Cal and Zach’s leaving… “Cal has gone to San Antonio to be with his family. His father had open-heart surgery this week, and they needed him there. And my brother Zach may be deployed soon.”
“I see.”
“I can intellectualize the connection between my boyfriend leaving and my broken engagement. And my brother is leaving soon to go to God knows where, and I can see how the anxiety about the two of them leaving could trigger things. But Cal is only going to be gone a few weeks, and Zach is always gone for trainings and deployments.”
Dr. Dowling remained silent.
“Okay, I was having issues at work before Zach got his orders or Cal had to leave for San Antonio.”
“Tell me about work.”
“I have three men in my pod. They’re very supportive and careful around me. In fact, everyone is careful around me. It drives me crazy, while at the same time I’m grateful for it.”
“But?”
“I can’t get past what happened there. They moved me to a different pod, in a different part of the building, but it looks the same. And I feel like I’m constantly watching my back. I’m OCD about saving my work. And it’s difficult for me to share anything but work with the guys in my pod. If I did, they might think I was coming on to them. So I’m isolated. I keep wondering if it would be different somewhere else.”
“Maybe you should look around and see what’s out there.”
“I want to, but I still have the feeling that if I leave, Hillary and Paul Warren will have won. If I quit, it will be a failure.”
“It isn’t a failure to be happy in what you do, Kathleen. If being in the building is painful for you, why would you force yourself to go back inside every day?”
“Because I’m not a quitter. No one in my family is.”
“It isn’t quitting to move on to a better work situation or better pay.”
It wasn’t, was it? She bit her lip. When she looked up, Dr. Dowling’s patient silence embraced her, nonjudgmental, supportive. Her eyes stung with tears.
“I’m carrying everything that happened out the door with me every day when I leave work.”
“Yes, you are.”
Twenty minutes later Kathleen stared at the prescription in her hand. She hated having to take any kind of medication. It just seemed defeatist to have to take a pill to deal with something she should have been over months before. She switched her attention back to Dr. Dowling.
The psychologist was an expert in anxiety and PTSD, and she trusted her. But her habitual need to maintain control kicked in. “Are you sure there isn’t any other way?”
“The medication will help alleviate some of the anxiety, Kathleen. It won’t dope you up or make you dull, just take the edge off. But you have to take it every day and maintain a level in your system for it to work.
She didn’t want to be on meds. But even Cal had admitted he’d taken them at the beginning of his treatment.
“Okay.” She rose to leave. “Thank you for seeing me on such short notice, Dr. Dowling.”
“You’re welcome. I’ll have Becky make your next appointment for two weeks from today. We’ll give the meds time to work, and you will be back from San Antonio by then. I want to see how you’re feeling by then.”
“Okay.”
Once she left the office, she felt both relieved and anxious again. She was going to have to talk to Cal about it. She’d hidden it from him, thinking it would go away if she just kept muscling through. He’d understand, since he’d gone through the same thing. But to admit it to him was to admit she wasn’t over the trauma of the kidnapping.
And she truly wanted to be.
*
Piper pushed a finger against the bridge of her sunglasses to slide them back up her nose. After thirty minutes, she’d moved her lounge into the shade of the large umbrella Zach put up, knowing the California sun could be sneaky. With the breeze coming in off the ocean, it was tempting to stay in the direct sun longer than was healthy.
As soon as her sun-kissed skin cooled from the shade, she slipped a cover-up on over her modest one-piece bathing suit. For the tenth time in an hour, she looked toward the sliding glass door to check on Gracie. She was lying on her side, stretched out in a patch of sun, relaxing.
Zach threw a ball into the surf, the muscles in his arm and shoulder coordinating with poetic beauty. His white tank top hugged his torso and outlined every delicious inch of his well-toned chest and stomach. She’d never been around anyone in such perfect physical condition, and he awed her. His black knit shorts came to mid-thigh and cupped his buttocks, and a bruise peeked out from the hem down his left thigh. She flinched every time she saw it. Had the injury happened to anyone less fit, he’d probably have broken his hip.
Trouble charged through the surf after the ball, grabbed the bright yellow sphere, and paddled furiously toward shore. Reaching Zach, he gave his large, long-haired body a shake that sent a spray of sand and salt water flying. Zach threw up a hand to protect his face, and she smiled and shook her head. The patience he showed with both the dogs was awesome.
With the ball still in his jaws, Trouble came pounding up the beach at a running lope, scattering sand and water in all directions, his thick blond hair clumped and swinging under his belly. Piper braced herself, certain he’d launch himself at her. At the last minute, a high-pitched whistle pierced the air, and Trouble circled her lounge and ran back the way he came.
He danced around Zach in gleeful leaps. Zach pointed down, and, in a commanding tone of voice, said a word in what sounded like French. She was shocked when Trouble plopped his butt onto the sand and sat, ball in mouth gazing up at Zach with adoring intensity. Zach wiggled the ball free and handed him a treat from his pocket, which lasted all of half a second.
The two of them continued up the beach. Zach’s gait was a little easier, and his movements less stiff, but he was still in pain. He was being too active. She’d have to take the bull by the horns and make darn sure he got some rest.
She smiled when he eased himself down on a lounge next to hers. “Thank for saving me. I thought he was going to pounce and it would take me days to get rid of all the salt and sand.”
“I thought so too. If science could bottle the energy he has, we’d have a never-ending supply.”
“He’s like a hyperactive two-year-old. And I was amazed when you got him to sit.”
Trouble gulped water from the bucket Zach had filled for him, then went over and immediately wiped his chin on his new best friend’s leg.
Piper stifled a laugh and Zach arched a brow at her. “At least it’s not from the toilet.” He smiled and dragged the towel hanging over the back of the lounge free, dried his leg, then dried Trouble’s face and chest.
“How did you get him to sit?” she asked.
“Sheer coincidence. I think he was so surprised I spoke to him in that tone of voice, he just sat down.”
She chuckled. Trouble jumped up on the end of her lounge and lay next to her. Piper squeezed against the arm of the lounge and let him have the lower half of the chair and one side, while he plastered his wet body against her leg and hip. She rested a hand on his big head and rubbed his ear. He sighed in ecstasy. “I’m surprised I don’t go around reeking of dog all the time. He wants to lie as close to me as he can get. I wake up every morning with his head on the pillow next to mine.”
“There are a several ways I can respond to that, but they’d all sound self-serving, so I won’t.”
Piper smiled and felt the rise of heat in her cheeks. She couldn’t say she hadn’t wondered what it would be like to wake up with Zach in her bed instead of her dog. The touch of his body against hers set off every hormone, and brought every cell to quivering attention. It had been a very long time since she experienced such a reaction. In fact, she’d never experienced it. Not like this.
If he was as good at other things as he was kissing… Her breathing hitched and she glanced up into his face to see him studying her. He grinned when a fresh wave of heat flared in her face.
She needed to warn him about what he was getting into if they pursued this. She’d thought of little else. Last night when he just held her and offered her comfort rather than pushing for more… She’d been racked with guilt for not being more forthcoming. But the truth was, she was afraid once she said the words he’d walk away.
She felt safe with him. He was the first man in the past seven years who made her feel protected. The first man she felt safe enough with to give of herself. She’d been alone for so long.
To distract him and herself she asked, “Would you like something to drink?”
“A bottle of water would be good. I’ve got it on ice in the cooler.”
She wiggled free of Trouble’s weight and got up from the lounge. He immediately stretched out and took over the whole thing. She went to the cooler set in the shade of the lounges and got out two bottles of water.
“Looks like you’ve lost your seat. I’ll get another lounge out for you.”
He started to rise, but she placed a hand on his shoulder, handed him the water, and sat down next to him on his lounge. “I’d rather sit with you, if I don’t smell too much like a wet dog.”
Zach braced a hand on the chair’s metal frame, leaned close and pressed a kiss to the side of her neck and breathed in. She shivered and caught her breath.
“You smell delicious,” he said. “Good enough to eat.”
A quick vision of his head between her thighs popped into her head. Piper bit back a groan while a tantalizing sensation blossomed within the intimate heart of her, and her throat dried. She raised a hand to touch his cheek and felt the scruff of his beard against her palm. Her heart thundered against her ribs. When he drew her earlobe into his mouth, her toes curled into the sand.
“Zach…” She turned to look at him. He slid his arm around her waist and the other beneath her legs and lifted her to sit between his thighs.
“Lean back against me.”
“Your hip—You have to be careful.”
“I’m good, Piper.”
She’d never been so aware of a man’s body. When he slipped an arm around her waist and his hand came to rest on her stomach, she bit her bottom lip and suppressed a hum of frustration. She was hyperaware of the intimacy of his body fitting against hers. And how easy it would be for him to slip his hand lower between her legs. Her heart raced, and her breathing grew ragged.
“Your heart’s beating crazy fast.”
“I know.” If she told him how long it had been since she’d been held or kissed, he’d think it was strange. She’d never craved a man’s touch like this before. She told herself it was because it had been so long since she experienced any kind of physical closeness. Every time he held her, it rammed home how long she’d denied herself those things. “It just feels good to be close.”
Zach slipped the other arm around her as well. “Yeah. It does.” He rested his cheek against her temple. “I’m not going to rush you into anything.”
God, she wished he would. Then she’d have someone to blame when she screwed up again.
No, she didn’t mean it. Zach didn’t deserve to be blamed for what she had done years before. What another man had done. “I’m not your normal type, am I?”
“What type are you?”
“The neurotic, worrywart, am-I-doing-the-right-thing type.”
“What’s to worry about, Piper? We’re sitting here enjoying the sun and surf. Nothing has to be decided in this moment.”
“What if you’re gone in two weeks?”
“It’s not going to happen. I have to be able to
walk much better than I can now before they’ll ship me out.”
She relaxed a little at his reassurance. “That’s why I kissed you, you know. I thought… What if he leaves and I never find out what it’s like to kiss him?” She leaned her head back against his shoulder and wished she could see his expression instead of just the strong, angular cut of his jaw.
“And how was it?”
She bit her lip to keep from smiling. “You know how it was. You were there.”
“Yeah.” She could see the smile curving his mouth. “I haven’t recovered yet.” His hand moved to cup her hip and give it a squeeze.
She fell silent, afraid to push the conversation further while also wanting his hands all over her.
The ocean, stormy and gray, looked at odds with the sky, clear and cloudless. The breeze caressed her skin, a tinge of seaweed in its salty scent. “It’s very peaceful here next to the water. How long have you lived here?”
“Four years. The man who owns the building is a retired SEAL, and the four of us who live here are active duty. I keep him supplied with fish, and let him use my boat on the weekends I’m not using it. One of the other guys mows the grass and trims the bushes. He knows no one’s going to screw up his property as long as we’re here, so he cut us a good deal.”
“And when you’re gone?”
“My landlord gets to use my boat whenever he wants.”
“That’s trusting.”
“He trusts us with his building, I trust him with my boat. Last deployment I came home to find he’d rebuilt the carburetor. When I offered to pay him he said no, he’d taken it in fish, and it was well worth the money. It’s a small community, Piper. We work together, sometimes play together, and always look out for each other.”
“Like a big family.”
Breaking Out (Military Romantic Suspense) (SEAL Team Heartbreakers Book 6) Page 15