by Sandra Owens
Jack glanced down at her. “My heat is yours, baby. Did I wake you up?” He didn’t stay the night when he hooked up, but since this was his house he couldn’t leave, another reason he never brought women home. And he hadn’t seen Nichole as simply a hookup, even from the beginning. This woman had him breaking all his rules.
“You didn’t.” She grinned up at him. “I should be dead to the world after our little marathon, but I think you invigorated me instead.”
“Yeah? Need some more invigorating?” He picked up her hand and put it palm down on his leg. “And Nichole? There was nothing little about that.”
“Couldn’t resist pointing that out, could you?”
He snorted. “I’m a man. We’re sensitive about size.” He glanced around his living room. It looked better in the soft glow of the lamp she had turned on than it did in the light of day. “You said something about a person’s home telling you about them. What does mine tell you about me?” He really was curious to hear her answer.
Her gaze traveled around the room. “It’s not the typical bachelor pad I would have expected.”
“Probably because it was my parents’ house.”
“I see a mother’s hand here. Where are your parents?”
“Dead.” When she hissed a breath, he said, “Sorry. Didn’t mean to say it like that, but it’s still hard to think of them gone. They were hiking, something they loved to do, when a sudden storm came up. Lightning struck before they could get back to the car or find shelter. They both died instantly, so at least they didn’t suffer.”
If anything, he’d always thought it would be them being notified by the navy that he’d been killed, that they would be the ones to mourn. The only blessing was that they would never have to hurt the way he had when his commander gave him the news.
“Oh, Jack. I can’t imagine how hard that must have been to lose both at the same time.” She slipped her hand into his and squeezed.
“I’ll never stop missing them, but they’re together, so there’s comfort in that.” He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her fingers. The sun was peeking over the mountains, and he wanted to crawl back into bed with Nichole, spend another hour buried in her sweet body, and then a little more sleep curled around her. But first they needed to talk about Gregory.
“Can we talk about your ex for a minute?” She wrinkled her nose but nodded. “Have you filed a restraining order on him yet?”
She sighed. “No, but I guess I need to do that.”
“Yeah, you do. His following us the way he did the other night, the way he’s watching you, that’s not good.”
“I know. I’ll do it in the morning, okay?”
“Good. With that business out of the way, I have other things in mind.” He waggled his eyebrows like a silly cartoon character.
“Do you now?”
“Oh yeah.” He scooped her up and carried her to his bedroom. The dogs followed, and after lowering her to his bed, he pointed at Dakota’s bed. “Sleep,” he said. Rambo followed Dakota, curling up next to her. With the dogs settled, he turned his attention to Nichole.
It should scare him how much he liked seeing her in his bed, but he couldn’t deny the longing to wake up to the sight of her next to him every morning. He eased his body over hers, then nuzzled her neck.
“I can’t get enough of you, Nichole,” he said. “Why is that?”
* * *
Wednesday afternoon, after his physical therapy session, Jack walked into the gun range with a smile on his face. It was his best day in a long time. And night, he mentally added. Even his nightmare hadn’t put a damper on his mood.
After Nichole had left, he’d gone to Asheville Service Dogs and worked there for five hours. Although he’d been assigned grunt work—cleaning kennels, giving dogs a bath, and mowing the grass—and not paid a penny, he’d loved every minute of it.
Between spending the night wrapped around Nichole and his time at Service Dogs this morning, he was a happy man. Now he was meeting her brother, and he was even looking forward to that. It would give him a chance to get a bead on the kid. Nichole’s ex seemed to have some kind of hold on Mark, and Jack intended to find a way to cut the ties between Lane and Mark.
Jack arrived at the range thirty minutes before Mark, giving him time to get set up. Since no one touched his guns, he rented a 9mm handgun suitable for beginners, ear and eye protection, and purchased a box of ammo for Mark to use.
He’d use his Glock 19. Nervous about how his arm would do, he headed to the range to get off a few practice shots before Mark arrived. Fifteen minutes later, he packed his gun away in disgust. Before he’d hurt his arm and shoulder, he would have hit the bullseye every single time. Now he couldn’t hit it once. Sure, he’d come close the first few times, but close didn’t cut it. He massaged his upper arm, appalled by his performance and his quivering muscles.
What if the damn arm is never right again? No! It would heal, and he would get back to his team. He just had to work harder, double up on his physical therapy even if Heather didn’t approve. More time at the gun range, too, practicing until he had perfect aim again.
His name was paged, meaning Mark had arrived. Jack picked up his gun case and headed to the front. After the attendant checking Mark in reviewed the rules and procedures, and Mark signed the waiver that he understood and would obey, Jack took him to the range.
“You ever shoot a gun before?” he asked.
“No, but I’m deadly on games. Had lots of time to play them when I was sick.”
Jack set the items he’d rented on the shelf. “Okay, first thing, this is a real gun, not a game.”
“I know that, man.”
“No, I don’t think you do.” He studied the young man staring back at him with a smirk on his face. He was a little under six foot and thin. There was intelligence in the eyes so like Nichole’s, but he had an attitude problem. Nichole had said her brother had been babied most of his life because of the cancer, and he got that. He’d probably be hard pressed not to do the same if it was his kid, but it was time for Mark to grow up.
“We gonna shoot or what?”
“We’re going to or what, and if I think you’ve paid attention when I go over gun care and safety with you, then we’ll shoot. If I don’t think you’re taking this seriously, then we’ll call it a day.”
“Fine.”
“And lose the attitude.” Not giving Mark a chance to answer, Jack picked up the handgun. “This is a nine-millimeter, a good gun for a beginner. The first rule, the golden rule of guns, is to treat every gun as if it’s loaded.”
“Is it?”
“No, but always assume so. Never, ever point a gun at a person while you’re at the range, even if you’re positive it’s not loaded. That will get you banned for life, and rightly so.”
Jack went through his spiel, pleased that Mark’s eyes hadn’t glazed over by the time he finished. “Any questions?”
“Yeah. What kind of gun do you have?”
“A Glock nineteen.”
“That’s a bad gun. Can I shoot with it?”
“No one touches my guns but me. You ready to give this a try?”
“Been ready.”
“Then put on the earmuffs and safety glasses.” Jack put his personal ones on. He loaded the handgun with ammo, then pointed it at the floor as he handed it to Mark. “Let’s see what you got.”
The kid wasn’t bad for a beginner. He shot with his legs braced apart and his eyes steady on the target. Jack let him go through the box of ammo, and toward the end as he adjusted to the gun, he was hitting the bullseye.
“That’s it for today,” Jack said, pulling off his ear protection when the last bullet hit the target. “You did good.” Truthfully, the kid was a natural.
“Aren’t you going to shoot?”
“Nope. I reserved the time for
you.” No way was he going to embarrass himself in front of Nichole’s brother, who no doubt thought Jack would dazzle him. Before he’d been hurt, he would have. The reminder of that soured his good mood.
“Can we do this again?”
The hopeful look in Mark’s eyes was impossible to say no to.
“Sure. I’ll give you my phone number. Call me when you’re ready to go again.” Jack hadn’t asked Nichole how old her brother was, but he guessed early twenties. He seemed younger, or maybe it was just that Jack felt years older than he was. War would do that to a person.
“Wanna go get a beer?”
“Not today.” He was not going to make Nichole’s kid brother a drinking buddy. But... “You doing anything tomorrow morning?”
Mark’s eyes lit up. “We’re gonna come here again?”
“Nope. I have something else in mind. You still staying at your sister’s?”
“Uh-huh. She said I could stay there for two weeks.”
“Great. I’ll pick you up at eight-thirty.”
“In the morning?”
Jack swallowed a chuckle at Mark’s alarmed expression. “Yep. Wear old clothes.” No reason the kid couldn’t make himself useful instead of hanging around, being useless. If nothing else, it might help keep him away from Lane and out of trouble.
“So, what are we doing?”
“It’s a surprise.” Although he doubted Mark would think cleaning up dog shit would be a particularly good surprise. It was going to be fun.
Chapter Thirteen
“I hit the bullseye a couple of times at the end,” Mark said as he sat at the kitchen island eating a bowl of ice cream. “Next time we go, I’ll hit it every time.”
Nichole added a lemon slice to her glass of iced tea, then leaned back against the counter. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. He’d been bouncing around like a kid on a sugar high ever since coming home, and she loved that he was excited about something. It was the guns she wasn’t crazy about. She hadn’t said anything to Jack because she hoped spending time with him would be good for Mark. She just wished they were doing something together besides her brother learning how to shoot.
“And I’m going with him in the morning.”
“To the gun range again?” Once was one thing, but on a regular basis? That didn’t please her.
“No. He won’t tell me where we’re going. Said it was a surprise. What do you think we’re gonna do?”
“I can’t imagine.” But she was sure going to call Jack later and find out. Mark’s phone buzzed, and since it was face up on the counter, she could see the screen. Lane! Damn it, why couldn’t he leave Mark alone?
“Yo,” Mark said. He listened for a moment. “Nah. I’m gonna pass. I have to be somewhere early in the morning, so I’m hitting the sack soon.”
Thank you, Jack. It was the first time she’d heard her brother turn Lane down.
Mark glanced at her. “Ah, she’s in the shower right now.”
She frowned. Whatever she might be doing was none of Lane’s business.
“Yeah, later, dude.” He set his phone down. “He wanted to talk to you.”
“I have nothing to say to him.”
“Figured that.” He pushed his empty bowl aside. “So, he really did hurt you?”
“I would never lie about something like that. I know you’re an adult and can choose your own friends, but he’s bad news, Mark.”
“He’s always been cool with me.”
With that said, he walked away. She sighed when she heard the guest room door close. Lane was using Mark as a means to get to her, but her brother refused to see that. Her ex-boyfriend could care less about anyone but himself. Unfortunately, Mark was going to have to figure that out for himself. If she tried to tell him, he would only dig his heels in.
She grabbed Rambo’s leash, clipped it to his collar, picked up her phone, then walked outside. “Go potty.” While he sniffed the bushes, she called Jack.
“It’s magic,” he said in greeting.
“Pardon?”
“I was sitting here thinking about you and you called. That’s magic of the best kind.”
She smiled. “Yeah?” He was such a charmer, and she didn’t think he even tried to be. It was just natural to him. And she liked that he was thinking about her.
“Mmm-hmm. It would be even better magic if I wished you here and poof, there you were on my lap.”
“If you could make that happen, I’d be super impressed.”
“Sadly, my lap is still empty. Sure wish you were here, Nichole.”
So did she, but she’d spent all of last night with him, and she didn’t want him to get tired of having her around. “Um, I wanted to thank you for spending time with Mark this afternoon. That’s all he’s talked about since coming home.”
“Okay, change of subject here. I preferred talking about you straddling my lap, but hey, I can go with the flow. You’re smiling.”
“How do you know that?” She totally was.
“I just do. So, Mark. I enjoyed spending time with him more than I thought I would. He’s a good kid—”
“He’s twenty-two.”
“Maybe in age, but not in maturity.”
She couldn’t argue with that.
“It’s time for him to grow up, though.”
Her thought exactly. “I know, but how do I make that happen?”
“You don’t, other than forcing him to stand on his own two feet. It’s up to him to decide what being a man means.”
“You’re right. It’s just hard to stand back and watch him drift through life. I really do appreciate your spending time with him. I have to admit that I’m not crazy about his learning to shoot a gun.”
“You should have told me. I wouldn’t have taken him there.”
“No, it’s okay. That’s just me. I’m not a fan of guns. He said y’all are going somewhere tomorrow but you wouldn’t tell him where.”
Jack’s chuckle rumbled through the phone. “He probably won’t like it. I’m taking him with me to the service dogs place. He’ll be cleaning kennels and whatever else they need us to do.”
“Well, that should be interesting.”
“No doubt.”
“Anyway, thanks.”
“Welcome. Now can we get back to how I was sitting here thinking about you?”
“Okay. So exactly how were you sitting?”
He laughed. “Funny girl. When can I see you again?”
At the sound of the low rumble of a motorcycle approaching, she pulled Rambo’s leash, bringing him back to her. “Gotta go. Call me tomorrow, okay?”
“Nichole?”
She disconnected, then ran to the door. Seconds after she stepped inside, the motorcycle passed without stopping. It could have been someone else, but bikes were rare on her street. When there was a motorcycle anywhere near her house, it was almost always Lane riding it.
After she’d ended things with him, he hadn’t gone away quietly, had called until she’d blocked his number—which had made him furious—and he had unexpectedly shown up numerous times. Then suddenly he’d disappeared for about six months. She’d felt nothing but relief that he’d given up. Now that he was coming around again, it made her wonder about those months he’d gone quiet.
This morning she’d gone to the courthouse to file the restraining order. Apparently, it wouldn’t go into effect until Lane was served with papers and there was a hearing. The last thing she wanted to do was face him in front of a judge, but maybe that would get it through his head that it was over between them.
A girl could hope.
* * *
Jack turned onto the gravel lane leading up to the dog kennels. He glanced at Mark. The kid was looking around with a confused expression on his face.
“What’s this place?”
“Doing what?”
He didn’t sound excited, but Jack had expected that. “Whatever needs to be done.”
“You got me up to do this?”
“Yep. It’s gonna be fun.”
“If you say so.”
An hour later, after they’d hosed down all the kennel floors, Jack leaned against one of the fences and watched Mark bathe a Labrador puppy that was hell-bent on licking his face off. The kid laughed as he tried to rinse off the puppy. Mark was as soaked as the dog, and although he’d whined about cleaning up dog shit, it was obvious he was enjoying himself.
“Stop it, Murphy,” Mark said, laughing as he pushed the puppy’s face away.
Jack swallowed his smile. While the kid—and that was how he thought of Mark even though he was legally considered an adult—was distracted and would answer without thinking, Jack said, “What kind of job would make you the happiest?”
“Creating video games.”
“Do you know how?” He didn’t know anything about that, but he did know someone who did.
“You mean like coding?” Mark grabbed a towel, then wrapped it around Murphy before picking him up.
“Yeah. Have you created any?”
“A bunch, but most of them aren’t too good. Just basic stuff. The last one is pretty good.” He shrugged. “I think so, anyway.”
Jack rarely played video games these days. The popular ones—kill your opponent or aliens or whatever—held no appeal to a man used to war and the real deal. “Have you shown it to anyone or tried to do anything with it?”
“No. Don’t really know who I could show it to.”