Operation K-9 Brothers Series, Book 1

by Sandra Owens

  “You can’t watch her twenty-four seven. Besides, that sounds a little stalker creepy.”

  “Yeah, I can, and making sure she stays safe trumps stalker creepy, don’t you think?”

  “I guess.”

  “There’s no guessing about it, Mark.” He decided to change the subject before Mark had second thoughts about heading back to Florida. “Have you talked to Clint Alba yet?”

  Mark’s eyes lit up. “Yes! He likes my game, and he had some great suggestions to make it even better. He said we’d talk more after I get it back to him.”

  “That’s great.” Finding a direction in life would do wonders for Mark.

  “Yeah, and I can work on my game in Florida as well as here. I just hope my dad doesn’t expect me to go back to that construction job.”

  “You’re how old?”

  “Twenty-two.”

  “Which makes you old enough to make your own decisions. I think it will make a difference if you have a good talk with him. Tell him what you want to do with your life, and the steps you’ve taken to make it happen.”

  Mark seemed to think that over, then nodded. “You’re right. I’ve never told my parents I wanted to create games because I just thought they’d think that was stupid.”

  “I doubt that will be their reaction, but if it is, so what? It’s your life, Mark, not theirs, eh?”

  “Yeah, it’s my life.” He stood, picked up his plate, and took it to the sink. “I’m going to pack up my stuff.”

  “You leaving today?”

  “No, I want to hang around, spend some time with Nichole tonight. I’ll head out in the morning.” He gave Jack a big grin. “Thanks, man, for everything. I hope you can fix things between you and Nichole. I’d like to have you around.”

  Jack hoped—okay, prayed—he’d still be around, too. He lifted his hand, and they bumped fists. “I hope so, too, and you’re not so bad to have around either.” It was somewhat surprising how much he liked the kid compared to when he’d first showed up at Nichole’s. He’d like to think he had played a part in Mark finding his place in life. At least then he’d feel like he’d done something right where Nichole and her brother were concerned.

  Since Mark was staying over until tomorrow, Jack would wait to try to talk to Nichole. The two of them would be safe for now since Gregory was still in the hospital, so Jack decided to do the one thing that would get his mind off Nichole for a while. He went Operation K-9 Brothers dog possibilities shopping.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “Jack came by today,” Mark said.

  “Oh?” Nichole’s stupid heart needed to stop doing that bouncy thing at hearing his name.

  “Yeah, he wanted to apologize for being an asshole. He wants to apologize to you, too.”

  Well, he owed her that much, but it wouldn’t make any difference because she didn’t matter. Although he didn’t specifically say she didn’t matter, he might as well have. She wasn’t sure there was anything he could say that could put those words to rest in her mind.

  “Whatever.” She shrugged as if what Jack wanted meant nothing to her. She wished it didn’t, but there was still that bouncy heart thing going on, and worse, she hurt. Hurt like she never had before.

  Her pain was even showing up in her pottery. Last night, she’d created what she thought of as sad fairy girls. She’d taken two of them to work with her today, and they’d both sold within an hour of opening. That was fine since those miserable fairies were all she felt like making.

  “I think you should hear him out.”

  “Why’s that?” She’d let Jack say his piece, but unless he had magic words that could sweep her mind clean of the ones that had ripped her heart out, he would be wasting his time.

  “Because men are stupid?”

  She couldn’t argue with that. “Was that a question?”

  “Yeah. No.” He laughed when she raised a brow. “It’s true. We really can get dumb when our manhood is questioned.”

  “I never doubted his manhood.” Not ever.

  “No, but finding out he’ll never be fit to be a SEAL again was a hard pill to swallow.”

  “I get that. The thing is, he as much as told me that all that mattered to him was returning to his team. There wasn’t one hint that I mattered to him. I would have been there for him if he’d let me, but he rejected every one of my attempts. If the situation had been reversed, I would have loved to have his support when I was at my lowest.”

  “That’s because you think like a woman.”

  “Okay, hit me up. How does a man think?” They were sitting on the sofa, and Rambo had his butt perched on the floor between them, his gaze swiveling between them like he was watching a tennis match. Since he was a male, he probably thought she was overreacting, too.

  “Embarrassed. Inadequate. A failure. Want me to go on?”

  “So what? It makes you guys feel better to be a jerk?”

  “Not really, but sometimes we can’t help ourselves. Think about it. He was a SEAL for a long time, and he fully expected to still be one for who knows how long. Then he gets the worst news possible, and he didn’t know how to process that. But I think he has now. Just hear him out, okay?”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  Rachel had said men needed to crawl off and lick their wounds, which fit with what Mark was saying, that Jack was probably embarrassed and feeling like a failure. She got that, but it didn’t excuse the way he’d treated her.

  She supposed she should consider the fact that he was drunk, but did that make it better or worse? Better because it really wasn’t Jack talking, or worse because his words were unfiltered, thus how he actually felt?

  They’d been seeing each other long enough for her to know Jack wasn’t a heavy drinker. A beer or two seemed to be his limit, and not once until that night had she seen him drunk. His getting wasted was an anomaly, otherwise she’d have walked away before now.

  She missed him to the depths of her soul, and then some more. Her mind, wanting to protect her from further hurt, said to be smart, that she didn’t need a man in her life who hadn’t wanted her by his side, supporting him, when he felt like his life was falling apart. Her heart, though...

  “I’m going back to Florida tomorrow,” Mark said.

  She jerked her face toward him. “What? Why?”

  “Jack’s worried about what Lane will do when he finds out I recorded our conversation. We both think it’s best if I’m not here.”

  So wrapped up in her misery, she hadn’t even thought of what Lane might do when he learned about the recording. She knew better than anyone what Lane was capable of, and she should have put Mark’s safety over her heartbreak. Yet Jack had considered Lane’s possible reaction and had somehow convinced her brother to return to Florida.

  Just another thing to thank him for, and maybe all those things outweighed the one time he’d messed up. So she’d listen to what he had to say, and then she’d let her mind and her heart battle it out.

  Until then, it was her last night with her brother. “Let’s make popcorn and watch a movie.”

  He looked at her with a challenge in his eyes. “Better yet, let’s make popcorn and play my game.”

  “Give me thirty minutes to practice it, and then your ass is grass.”

  He laughed. “Game on.”

  * * *

  Nichole managed not to cry when sending Mark back to their parents. In the short time he’d been here, a different brother was leaving than the one who’d arrived with an attitude. Thanks to Jack, her brother had a bright future ahead of him.

  Mark was walking on clouds, and she was thrilled for him. She was also relieved that he was leaving. As far as she knew, Lane didn’t know where their parents lived. Her brother’s game had been a blast to play, and with a big-name gamer interested, Mark had a purpose that his life had been
missing.

  After his car turned the corner, disappearing from sight, she headed for her pottery studio. Since she had a lot of catching up to do, it was good that she had the next three days off from her booth.

  She had the dinnerware commissions to finish, more sad fairies to make, and she was running low on her glitter fairies and mugs. The day flew by, and when she stood, stretching her aching back, she glanced at her watch, surprised to see it was after five. Other than a few breaks to walk Rambo, she’d been hard at it and was pleased with her progress.

  After Mark left, she’d debated between going back to bed and just staying there for the rest of her life or losing herself so thoroughly in the one thing she could count on to make her happy so that she wouldn’t think of Jack. She chose the second option. She was tired of crying, and that was what she’d do if she spent her day in bed, missing him.

  “It’s wine time,” she told Rambo.

  He jumped up from his bed, bringing his chew toy with him, his tail wagging with excitement. Both her boys were new and improved from a few weeks ago even. Mark was a joy to be around now, and Rambo’s progress was remarkable.

  Now, it was only she who wasn’t new and improved. Whatever. Someday Jack would be a distant memory. Maybe.

  After washing the clay from her hands and arms, she headed into the house. The doorbell rang as she took her first sip of wine. Rambo barked as he raced for the door. As far as she knew, Lane was still in the hospital, but she wasn’t taking any chances. She pushed Rambo aside with her leg, then put her eye to the peephole.

  “Jack,” she whispered.

  Of course she had on her ratty pottery clothes, clay under her fingernails, no makeup, and her hair in a messy bun. Well, that was what he got for not calling. She opened the door, wishing that her stupid heart wasn’t happy to see him.

  “Can I come in?” he asked when she just stared at him.

  Without answering but leaving the door open, she headed back for her wine. Deciding she hadn’t poured enough for the coming conversation, she filled up the glass. She glanced at Jack, and the uncertainty and vulnerability she saw on his face and in his eyes softened her anger with him, but it wasn’t gone completely.

  “Beer?” she said.

  “I’m taking a few days off on beer.”

  She bit back a snarky retort. Too bad he hadn’t done that a few days ago instead of ending up at a biker bar. “Okay. Let’s sit on the patio.”

  The view from her deck wasn’t close to as nice as his, but inside her little house, his presence was so overwhelming that he stole all her air. She could smell his unique—and okay, mouthwatering—masculine scent, even feel his body heat. Never mind that he’d stomped on her heart, said organ was apparently a glutton for punishment, ready to throw itself at him all over again.

  Even her mind was wavering. If they had a chance, she needed him to convince her that she mattered to him, but it had to happen where she could still think, and that wasn’t standing in her kitchen where his essence surrounded her. Before she walked right into his arms without a word of explanation and an apology from him, she went out her back door. He could follow her or not. His choice.

  Jack had never been so unsure of himself or so nervous. If he didn’t find the right words, he was going to lose her...if he hadn’t already. She hadn’t smiled at him the way she used to, before he got stupid and acted like a jerk.

  He took a deep breath, then followed her out. Because he was trained to prepare for missions—and this was one of the most important missions he’d ever undertaken—he’d rehearsed what he was going to say. But as he took a seat in the chair next to Nichole’s, he didn’t remember a word of it. Some operator he was.

  Maybe she’d say something, giving him time to get his brain back on track. She didn’t, just sipped her wine and stared at the house behind hers, apparently unaware that he was close to climbing out of his skin. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

  “I fucked up, Nichole, and I’m sorry.” That wasn’t what he had planned to say. Well, it was, but he’d intended to be more articulate than that.

  “I know.”

  And? Was he forgiven? Kicked out of her life? She remained quiet, and since she hadn’t told him to leave, he let himself feel a little hope. He got it, though. A simple I’m sorry wasn’t going to cut it. She needed him to bleed, and for her, he would.

  “When I...” He swallowed past the rock lodged in his throat. It wasn’t going to be easy, baring his soul. Although he didn’t remember exactly what he’d said to her, he’d hurt her. Because of that, he’d cut open a vein and bleed. He stared at the floor. “Being a SEAL has defined me since the day I made it through BUD/S school.” He glanced at her. “That’s like SEAL boot camp, and it’s damn hard to make it through. Only about twenty to thirty percent of a given class graduates.”

  “I guess that makes you special,” she said, darting a glance at him.

  “No, just determined. Anyway, my one and only goal was to heal so I could get back to my team. When I was still in the hospital, the doctors were hinting that there was a possibility I’d never get full use of my arm back. I refused to listen. Not returning to my team wasn’t an option.

  “I walked into the doctor’s office last week as a SEAL. When I walked out, that was no longer true because my arm’s permanently damaged. I couldn’t deal with that, and that’s when I got stupid. The answer to your problems is never in the bottom of a beer bottle. I knew that, but I did it anyway. Mostly I just wanted to forget I’d never be with my team again.”

  “Because that’s all that mattered to you.”

  Those words sounded vaguely familiar, but he didn’t know why, although the way she said them put him on alert. “For a while I thought that was true, and then I met you. You changed everything.” He flinched when she snorted. “You don’t believe me?”

  “After you said that the only thing that mattered to you was getting back to your team? You said that when you were drunk, when you weren’t filtering your thoughts, so no, I don’t believe you.”

  “I said that?”

  “Yeah, and then you told me to leave.”

  He was never getting drunk again. Not in this lifetime or the next. At least he remembered why he’d tried to run her off. “I’m sorry, Nichole. If I could take it all back, I would. The thing is, at the time I believed I had nothing to offer you. You deserved more than a man with no future. That’s what the drunk me thought. The man sitting here right now is calling that man a drunk-ass fool.”

  “What is it with men and their stupid egos?” She finally faced him. “So you decided to make the decision for me as to what I deserved?”

  “I would have come to my senses when I sobered up, but then I was arrested with the good possibility that I’d be going to prison. You definitely deserved more than a man who was going to be locked up for who knew how long.”

  “For something you didn’t do. There was never a doubt in my mind that you were innocent of that.” She stood, went to the deck railing, and stared into her backyard.

  He wanted to go to her, but he sensed she had more to say, so he waited.

  A few minutes passed, and then she turned. “Here’s the thing. I love you, but it’s not enough. I want a man in my life who stands by my side, who supports me in good times and bad. In return, I need to be that for him, and you shut me out when you needed me the most. You hurt me, Jack. Who’s to say you won’t do that again if things don’t go your way?”

  She loved him, but... His heart didn’t know whether to rejoice or cry because of the words that followed her admission. He’d had this idea in his head that the first time they said they loved each other, it would be over a candlelight dinner, or sitting out on his deck under a starry night, or maybe when they were making love. Yeah, he liked that last one.

  “I wish I’d said this days ago.” He stood, goi
ng to her. “When we met, I thought we’d have some fun until it was time for me to return to my team. Then you inched your way into my heart when I wasn’t looking, and I started thinking that maybe we could sustain a relationship through my deployments. That you’d wait for me.”

  “I would have,” she whispered.

  But not now? He was in the fight of his life, and he had to get it right. “I can promise you three things, Nichole. One, I love you with everything that I am. Two, I will never get drunk again. And, three, I’ll never shut you out again.”

  “I want to believe you, but I’m afraid. I don’t ever want to feel that kind of hurt again.”

  “When a SEAL gives you his word, you can believe him. I’d rather die than hurt you. That’s not to say that I won’t do things to piss you off, because I’m sure I will. That works both ways. It’s how relationships work. We just have to promise each other that we’ll always talk things out.”

  Tears shimmered in her eyes, and he caught one with his thumb when it fell. “I love you like I’ve never loved another or ever expected to. Please give us a chance.”

  She stepped away from him. “I don’t know if I can.”

  That wasn’t a yes or a no, but seeing her trembling lips, he couldn’t bring himself to push her any harder. Because of him, she was close to crying, and that wasn’t acceptable.

  “I think I should leave,” he said. “Take all the time you need to decide if you want to be with me, and when you do, I’ll respect your decision, even if it’s not the one I’m going to go home, fall down on my knees, and pray for.”

  “Jack.”

  Anguish was in her voice when she’d said his name. Damn him for making her afraid to love him. “Whatever you decide, Nichole. All that matters is that you’re happy.” He brushed his thumb over her quivering bottom lip because he had to touch her, afraid it was going to be for the last time. “I love you, but I won’t bother you again. What happens next is your choice.”