Operation K-9 Brothers Series, Book 1

by Sandra Owens

  A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I’m not Lane. I’ll never be him, so don’t compare us. Honestly, I’m insulted that you would think me anything like him.” He swiped a hand through his hair as he let out a sigh. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like I was upset with you. I’m not. Far from it, in fact. There’s something I want to talk about, and I’m just nervous, is all.” He sheepishly shrugged. “I was preoccupied on the way home with practicing what I’d say to you. How I’d say it.”

  Lane had never apologized, and that right there was proof that he wasn’t Lane. “Okay, and I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions. Lane conditioned me to expect the worst, a habit I’m trying to break.” She put her hand on his arm. “And I know you’re not Lane, not even close.” But now he had her nervous. Was he having second thoughts about wanting her as his girlfriend?

  He took her hand. “It’s a beautiful night. Let’s sit on the deck for this talk.” He reached down and scratched Dakota’s head. She’d been patiently sitting at his feet—waiting to be noticed—since they’d walked in and come to a stop. Someday Rambo would behave that well. Hopefully.

  “Okay, but I need to call Mark and make sure he let Rambo out.”

  “While you do that, I’ll make us something to drink. What would you like?”

  “Water’s fine.” She’d had enough wine for the night. Any more and her mind would be too fuzzy to listen to whatever he had to say.

  After talking to Mark and being assured that he had let her dog out, she joined Jack on his back deck.

  “We’ll share,” he said when she glanced at the one glass of water on the table next to him.

  Sharing was a good sign, right? When she went to sit in the chair on the other side of the small table, he shook his head as he held out his hand to her.

  “Over here, girlfriend.”

  Okay. He wasn’t breaking up with her. The tension that had been building dissipated. She put her hand in his, and he pulled her down so that she was sitting with her back to his chest. He wrapped his arms around her.

  “So,” he said, then nothing.

  She waited, trying to guess what he wanted to say, but nothing came to her. “So?” she prompted.

  “Yeah, so.” He rested his chin on her shoulder, then nuzzled her neck.

  If he kept that up, she was going to forget he had something to say that she wanted to hear. She leaned back, moving her face until they were almost lips to lips.

  “Jack, I’m dying here. It’s like you’re purposely torturing me with whatever it is you’re having trouble saying.”

  “I don’t mean to torture you,” he murmured into her ear, his breath warm on her skin.

  “In about sixty more seconds I’m going to attack and drag the words out of your mouth.” She felt his lips curve on her neck. “And stop smiling.”

  “You’re sexy when you get feisty.”

  “Jaaaack!” She bumped her head against his chest.

  “We’re officially boyfriend and girlfriend, right?”

  “Yeah, and?”

  “Where do you see our relationship going?”

  She knew the answer. They had an expiration date—the day he left to return to his team. He’d been clear on that. It wasn’t what she wanted, but she would respect his rules. Knowing she was falling for him, she was trying to protect her heart, holding that fragile organ back as much as she could.

  “You’re thinking real hard there, Nichole.”

  “I’m not sure what you want to hear.” Was this his attempt to make certain that even though he’d given them a label she didn’t get the wrong idea?

  He nuzzled her neck. “How about if I go first?”

  “Okay.” She braced herself for the reiteration of his rule. No matter how much it hurt, she wouldn’t cry. At least not in front of him.

  “I really only have one question. Will you wait for me?”

  She blinked. Had she heard him right? She leaned to the side so she could see his face. “You mean when you’re on deployment?”

  “Yes. Will you be here when I get back? Write to me? Skype with me when I can manage it?” He glanced away, then focused back on her. “Be faithful?”

  For a moment she bristled that he would imply she wouldn’t be true to him, but then she remembered that his one girlfriend had cheated on him while he’d been overseas serving his country. She’d probably be worried about the same thing if something like that had happened to her.

  She slid her hand into his, lacing their fingers, then brought their hands to her chest, over her heart. “I have never and would never cheat on a man I was involved with. If the day ever came when I didn’t think our relationship was working, I’d talk to you about it. If you happened to be on deployment when that happened, I would still be true to you, and when you came back, we would talk. But, Jack, I don’t see myself ever wanting anyone but you.”

  His mouth crashed down on hers.

  Jack believed her, which was a miracle in itself considering how many years he’d been skeptical of a relationship working with a woman as long as he was in the military. It was her, though, the reason he trusted this thing between them was real. She was beautiful inside and out, honest, sweet, and kind. And, oh yeah, sexy as hell.

  “I will be faithful. That is my promise to you,” she said when they came up for air. “But I expect the same from you.”

  “Baby, you’re the only woman I want in my bed, the only one my heart has room for.”

  She squeezed his hand. “Those are two of my favorite places to be.”

  “Good.” He stood, bringing her up with him. “Let’s dance.”

  “Now?”

  “Why not?” Dancing was something he loved to do, and not just because he was good at it.

  As a boy, he’d hated when his mother roped him into the dance lessons the times she was a boy short. He’d much rather have been working on cars with his dad or hanging out with his friends. As a grown man, he appreciated those lessons and his skill on the dance floor. He’d learned early that women loved a man who had the moves.

  He brought up his phone’s playlist, choosing the one with songs perfect for dancing the tango, then he pulled Nichole close to him. “Remember what I said about the tango?”

  “That you’d teach me?”

  “That, too, but I also told you that it’s making love with your clothes on. Personally, I think it’s the most sensual dance there is. The steps can get complicated, but we’re going to keep it simple for now.”

  “That’s good since I’m not such a great dancer.”

  “You will be when I finish with you.” He winked, and her smile went straight to his heart and his lower regions. Hell, holding her in his arms and not taking her right down to the deck and having his way with her was going to be a test of his wills.

  “The first thing you have to remember is that the tango is something you feel, not something you do. We’re just going to sway here for a few minutes while you close your eyes and feel the music.” He put his mouth next to her ear. “Let the music flow through you, Nichole.”

  She was stiff at first, but as they swayed, her muscles relaxed, along with her breaths. “You’re feeling it,” he said after a while when her body finally sensually swayed as she moved with him.

  “It’s... I don’t know how to explain it.”

  “You don’t have to. I get it.” And he did. Most people didn’t try to feel the music when they danced, but when they did, their body would respond to the beat, move with it, embrace it. It was a beautifully sensual thing.

  “Now we’ll start with the embrace. That’s where our hands go. We’ll be a mirror image of each other.” He took her left hand in his right one, holding them both out to the side. “For now, put your other hand on my shoulder.” He slid his right hand down her side, resting it on her lower back.

  “Is it weird that
I’m kind of turned on right now?” she said.

  “If it is, then we’re both weird.”

  Truth, kind of turned on was the understatement of the year. She was a natural, which pleased him. It also had him sporting an erection that threatened to rip its way right past the zipper of his pants. He couldn’t remember ever wanting a woman this much. He gritted his teeth, determined to teach her a little more of the dance steps before he showed her exactly what she did to him.

  “The most important thing to remember is to trust your partner. Let your body feel my weight, to feel where I’m going, to feel me because I’ll always take you with me.”

  She stilled, causing him to stumble. “Are we still talking about the tango or us?”

  “Both,” he said, then scooped her up in his arms, ignoring the screaming protest from his damaged shoulder. Her tango lessons could wait for another day. He was done. This woman was either going to be his salvation or his hell. He hoped for the first but was willing to risk the latter.

  She had the power to break him, to be the reason he never again trusted another woman. But he would trust her while praying that he would never let her down. As he carried her to his bedroom, he shut out the whispering voice saying that was a distinct possibility.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Jack’s doctor’s appointment was today, and Nichole waited for his promised call. Things had been going great since they had committed to each other. Almost too great.

  They were spending their nights together, Rambo was a new and improved dog under Jack’s tutelage, Mark was evolving into someone she actually liked—again because of Jack—and, no kidding, she could actually tango. Not at Jack’s level of expertise, but she wasn’t embarrassed to dance it with him in public, which they’d done twice now.

  He hadn’t lied when he’d said it was making love with their clothes on. The second time he’d taken her dancing, when the music had ended, she’d dragged him to the ladies’ room, pushed him up against the door so no one else could enter, and then had her way with him.

  “Damn, baby, that was hot,” he’d rasped afterward. “I might have to tango with you every night if this is what it does to you.”

  “It’s you that does this to me,” she’d said.

  There were so many facets of Jack, which made him endlessly fascinating. There was the SEAL who was a protector as she’d learned firsthand each time Lane made an appearance. And living inside his ripped body, under all those hard muscles, was a soft heart. One that had tracked down his wounded dog, bringing Dakota home to heal. He was a man who gave hours of his time away volunteering at the service dog place.

  For a highly trained warrior, he was a surprisingly patient man, whether he was teaching her to dance or dealing with her rambunctious puppy. What she loved the most about him, though, was the way his eyes turned soft when he looked at her. She was falling hard for him, but that didn’t worry her anymore. Not since he’d admitted to feeling the same and wanting to continue their relationship through his deployments.

  It would be hard, knowing he was in danger and worrying that he’d return safely to her. But he was a man worth every single sleepless night she knew she’d have, wondering if he was safe.

  She glanced at the clock. His doctor’s appointment was three hours ago. He should have called her by now. Apprehension curled its slithery fingers around her. Something was wrong. Jack always kept his promises.

  “Where is he, Rambo?” Her dog looked up from his place next to the edge of her table where he’d been quietly watching people passing by. Quietly was the key word and something she appreciated. She called Jack, getting his voice mail.

  “Hey, it’s me. I was just thinking of you. Give me a call when you get a chance.”

  Unfortunately, she was stuck here until at least five, or she’d go to him. When her phone vibrated, thinking it was Jack, she swiped the screen, belatedly realizing it was Turner Hutchins’s name showing. What did he want?

  “Nichole speaking.” She was still furious with him and didn’t want to talk to him, but she was too curious to hang up on the man who’d given Rat Bastard Trevor the commission he had promised her.

  “This is Turner Hutchins. How are you, Nichole?”

  So now she was supposed to play nice after what he’d done? “Is there a reason you’re calling me?”

  “There is. I haven’t been able to get ahold of Trevor. Since he said you’re teaming up with him on my dishes, I thought I’d get an update from you.”

  Damn Trevor! “I am not and will not be helping Trevor with your dishes, Mr. Hutchins. I would, however, appreciate getting my samples back.”

  A few seconds of silence, and then, “Trevor has those.”

  Just as she thought. “I see. Then we have nothing else to say. Good day.”

  Let him stew on that. Obviously, Trevor was avoiding Hutchins, which meant that Trevor wasn’t going to deliver what he’d promised, at least not on time. Turner Hutchins hadn’t blinked when he’d given Trevor the commission she’d been promised, so she didn’t feel any sympathy.

  It was a hard lesson learned, but she had more important things to think about, namely, where the devil was Jack, and why hadn’t he called? There was probably a reasonable explanation—the doctor was running really late, maybe Jack met up with Deke for a beer, or...well, she couldn’t think of another reason why he wouldn’t have called.

  Those were explanations, but she didn’t believe they were true. One thing she’d learned about Jack was that if he said he was going to do something, he did it. Even if he was meeting up with Deke or anyone really, he would have called her. Something was wrong. She just knew it.

  The building’s manager wasn’t going to be happy if he came by and saw her booth’s night-gate closed, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t ignore the feeling that Jack needed her.

  After she locked up for the night, she loaded Rambo into the car. She’d drop him off at home before heading for Jack’s house. When she walked inside, Mark grabbed her and danced her in a circle.

  “What was that for?” she asked when he let go.

  A big smile lit his face. “I just got off the phone with Jack’s gamer friend. He likes my game, and he has some suggestions for improving it.”

  “That’s great, Mark.” There were so many things to thank Jack for. She just needed to find him so she could thank him properly—lots of kisses would be a good start.

  “Have you talked to Jack this afternoon?”

  Mark shook his head. “No. I called him as soon as I got off the phone with Clint...that’s his friend. Got Jack’s voice mail, so I left him a message. I was kind of hoping he might want to meet up for a beer. You know, a little celebration.” He shrugged. “I know it’s not a done deal, but it’s cool that someone in the business is actually going to give me feedback on my game.”

  “That really is awesome. I’m headed over to Jack’s now. If he doesn’t have plans, we can all three go celebrate.”

  “Great. I’m gonna grab a shower. Call me after you talk to him.”

  “I will.”

  “Nic,” he said when she reached the door.

  She glanced back at him. “Yeah?”

  “Thanks. I know I’ve been a pain in the ass, but I’m working on being a better me.”

  So much to thank Jack for. “And I’m really proud of you.” She walked back and hugged him. There had been a time when she and her parents had thought he wouldn’t live long enough to see him grow into a young man. She’d been so exasperated and annoyed with him for the last year or two that she’d forgotten to be thankful she still had her brother. “I love you,” she whispered.

  He slipped his arms around her. “Love you back.”

  Leaving him to shower and dress, she headed to Jack’s house. He wasn’t home. Could a doctor’s appointment last this long? Possibly if there was a problem. Her worr
y for him intensified.

  She peeked in the front window. “Hey, girl,” she said at seeing Dakota staring back at her. If he didn’t have his dog with him, then he must still be at the doctor’s. Deciding she wasn’t leaving until she saw him, she settled on his porch swing, took out her phone and brought up her Kindle app. Thirty minutes later she realized she was spending more time watching the road than reading, so she set her phone down next to her.

  “Where are you, Jack?”

  * * *

  Jack was stinking drunk. Where locationwise he’d arrived at this condition he wasn’t exactly sure. He looked around him, narrowing his eyes in an attempt to see through his blurry vision. He’d stopped here sometime after leaving the VA hospital, the doctor’s words a fucking echo in his fucking head.

  Dr. Patel had peered over the rim of his glasses and said the words that had knocked Jack on his ass. “The muscles in your shoulder and arm are permanently damaged. You will never be back to one-hundred percent.”

  Permanently damaged. Permanently damaged. Permanently damaged.

  He would never return to his team, no matter how much they needed him to. He leaned his elbows on the bar and dug his fingers into his scalp, wishing he could scrub those words out of his mind.

  Where the hell was he, anyway? He remembered driving around for an hour—or maybe days—while ignoring the ringtone he’d assigned to Nichole. Each time the Temptations’ “My Girl” had sounded, he’d picked up his phone, fully intending to answer. He’d promised her he’d call her after his doctor’s appointment, and he was a man who kept his promises. Well, he used to be that man before the doctor had said the fucking words that had Jack now sitting in a... He blearily peered around again. As best he could tell he was in a biker bar.

  Hooyah!

  Each time Nichole had called, he’d wanted to talk to her. Needed to. But he hadn’t been able to because then he’d have to admit what a failure he was to his team...to her. The military was all he knew, and now he had no future, nothing to offer her. She deserved a man who had a future, a place in this world. That wasn’t him. Not anymore.