by J. M. Madden
“I don’t know what it is,” he grumbled. “She just seems out of sorts and not willing to open up about something.”
“Are you not willing to marry her?”
John winced. “Not unwilling, necessarily. I just don’t see the need. It’s not like I love her any less because we’re not married.”
Duncan shook his head and pushed up from the office chair. Once he got his legs under him he limped around the desk to lean against the corner closest to John, crossing his heavy arms. “You haven’t learned much about women, have you?” he laughed.
Glowering, John crossed his arms just like Duncan. “The hell you say.”
“Women need that commitment. You can tell them you love them a million times a day, but for some reason that ring on their finger is just as important. If not more than. It declares to the world that you are off the market.”
He shook his head in aggravation. “A ring on her finger doesn’t guarantee that the marriage will be good.”
“No, it doesn’t. You will be taking a chance. But if I didn’t think you were good for one another I would tell you that.”
“And what if I’m not enough for her?”
Duncan blinked at the raw question and John wished he could drag it back. Duncan was his friend and business partner, but he had just outed his deepest fear. John’s mother hadn’t stayed with his father. Hell, his mother hadn’t even stayed with John himself. She’d given him up to make a better life for herself and his brother.
John hadn’t relied on anyone in years. Until Shannon.
As crazy as his life seemed, she made everything normal. And acceptable. Being in a wheelchair made you humble, but he didn’t feel that way with her. He felt like a man with her. Period.
But he would never be able to treat her like a regular man would. No swinging her up into his arms to be carried to bed. No dancing. Last year was a great example. He hadn’t been able to get close enough fast enough when her life was in danger. Other men had saved her.
How could she rely on him? Fuck, he couldn’t even change a light bulb.
Duncan had cocked his head, looking at him steadily. “Do you really think she would have wasted a year of her life with you if she didn’t think you were enough?”
John hated Duncan’s level-headed response. Because it was exactly right. Shannon wouldn’t have wasted her time loving him. She would have moved on if she thought it would be better for her.
A devastating thought occurred to him. She wasn’t staying with him because she thought he needed care, was she?
No. She knew he valued his independence more than that.
Leaning forward, he gripped his head in his hands, at a total loss. When he looked up at Duncan he shrugged. “I don’t know what to do. Marriage seems like an automatic death sentence for a relationship. It’s like getting your girlfriend’s name tattooed on your shoulder. As soon as you do the partnership implodes.”
Duncan grinned at him. “Don’t get her name tattooed on your shoulder then.”
Choking out a laugh, he turned away. “I’ll think about what you said but no promises.”
Duncan watched his buddy roll through the office door. John Palmer had a lot on his mind, but he was spinning his wheels needlessly. Shannon Murphy was the best thing that could have ever happened to him. The man was just too damn stubborn to admit it.
It was obvious to everyone at LNF that the two of them were in love. There was a secret betting pool running to see when John would actually give in. There was a separate pool running that Shannon would propose to him, but that one seemed to be longer odds. Shannon was a level-headed Midwestern girl. She would probably wait for him to make the first move.
Hell, if Duncan could find a woman to love and care for him like that he would be all over it. He would do everything in his power to make sure she felt cherished.
The auburn-haired doctor from Kansas City flashed into his mind. Now that had been a woman. A little young, but definitely intriguing.
Duncan knew he was beyond the family stage. His military career and starting his own business had left little time for personal relationships. It was embarrassing to think about how long it had been since he’d been on a date, let alone had sex. Unfortunately he didn’t have much of a pool of eligible women to choose from. There had been a few through the years, but not very many.
Duncan allowed himself just a moment to think about Alex Hartfield. She had definitely been his type. A little leggy, a lot brainy. But so damn young. Their life experiences would be so dissimilar. Too tenuous to build anything on other than something physical.
The thought of pressing his lips to hers and tasting that fiery red lipstick stoked his libido like nothing else had for a long time.
Slamming a door on the dead end thoughts, he pushed to his feet and circled the desk back to his office chair. There was an embezzlement case that needed puzzled out.
Chapter Three
‡
Lora peered through the blinds, watching for Chad’s bright red truck. He was running a few minutes late from picking Mercy up at school and though she knew in her mind that nothing was wrong, it was hard to tell her heart that. Years of watching out for her daughter and being her only provider had taught her to be on alert. It was a hard habit to break, even though Chad was doing a good job of teaching her. She just had to learn to rely on him.
God. Chad. Just the thought of his irreverent grin and warm arms made her tummy flutter. She looked down at the ring on her hand, still in disbelief months later. It was beautiful, inlaid diamonds glinting. After Derek she’d never thought she would be open to another relationship with a man, but Chad had truly worked his way into her heart.
It was the candy. He’d melted her defenses with those darn starlight mints.
The truck appeared down the street and she held her breath as she watched him park, then step down to the concrete to circle the hood. He wore jeans, cowboy boots and a fleece lined jean-jacket against the cold, but he still made her heart flutter with awareness. After Derek Lora never thought she’d get her sexuality back, but Chad had done that for her and so much more.
Pulling the edges of the sweater tighter around her, she unlocked and opened the front door. Chad released the belts on Mercy’s child-seat and lifted her to the ground. Her precocious child stomped her way to the door, face set in a mutinous expression. She softened enough to give Lora a hug when she entered the house and tolerated having her winter clothes peeled from her body but refused to talk. Lora frowned at her behavior but didn’t say anything.
“There’s a snack for you on the counter in the kitchen.”
Mercy disappeared down the hallway.
Lora looked up at Chad when he walked in the door. “What was that about?” she asked.
He shook his head and leaned down for a kiss. “I’ll tell you in a bit.”
Lora squeezed his neck, savoring the feel of him in her arms and the smell of winter on his clothes. “Okay.”
By the time they had dinner and she’d gotten Mercy ready for bed it had been several hours. They didn’t have a chance to talk about the incident in the truck until Mercy had gone to sleep.
Chad related the story and Lora didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Poor Mercy was struggling.
“I can’t believe she said that to her teacher. She never talks like that.”
Chad grinned up at her as he tugged off his socks and prepared for bed. “Well, I think she was polite—otherwise the teacher would have called us, right?”
Lora nodded. “Probably.”
Her heart ached at her daughter’s struggles. Trying to explain that your mother had killed your father was probably not an easy thing to contemplate. And there was no skirting the fact. Mercy had been right there and she’d seen everything. Lora had talked to the school and explained the situation in as much detail as she dared. “I don’t know why she didn’t just tell the woman that he was dead.”
They’d talked about it in the counseling
sessions. Twice a week they had the chance to air anything they were concerned about. Why hadn’t she said something there?
Chad scraped a hand over his hair, ruffling the waves. “Well, I kind of wonder if she’s waiting for me to be her dad. That was kind of the vibe I got in the truck. Maybe she didn’t want to say that because she’s waiting for me to step up and I’m just taking too long. Is there something going on at the school that requires a dad?”
Lora stared at him, considering. What he said made sense. It was the kind of reasoning a six-year old would use.
“Hm. Maybe. I haven’t seen her Santa list yet,” Lora admitted. “And she’s usually very vocal about what’s on it.”
Chad frowned and she could tell Mercy’s behavior bothered him.
“If there’s something I need to be doing sometimes I just need to be told. I don’t always know.” He grinned up at her. “Maybe she’ll tell Santa at the party.”
Laughing, Lora crossed to his side and leaned down to press a kiss to his lips. “Maybe. You are doing perfectly. Just remember that nothing is ever quick enough for a child.”
He grinned up at her and wrapped his arms around her hips, tugging her off balance to fall on the bed over top of him. “Hello, beautiful.”
Lora grinned down at him and swung a leg over his hips. “Hello, handsome.”
Chad levered his head up for a kiss and Lora happily obliged him.
*
Zeke swiped the bar rag over the heavy oak bar and glanced up as Ember walked toward him. The sway in her hips drew his gaze like a magnet and it was all he could do to keep from snagging her hand and dragging her to the back office. They’d gotten caught last week when Charlotte had ducked her head into the office looking for Ember. The new waitress had looked at them with her eyes wide and hand over her mouth then hurriedly backed out of the room. Ember had cursed and buried her face against his chest, but Zeke could only laugh. It was exhilarating being caught like that. Brought back flashes of a younger, more carefree, less injured time.
He ran his hands over his chin. The last surgery had healed over and it was the smoothest it had ever been. They’d released the scar that had drawn the edge of his lip up so that it now lay flatter and more natural. And the scars on his forehead were as smooth as they would ever be, his doctor had told him. Zeke was okay with that now. Ember made him secure in himself.
Zeke watched as she withdrew a pen from her sexy little Santa apron to take an order. She was so freakin’ cute.
On her way to the kitchen she reached out and pinched his butt. Chuckling, he waved a finger at her. “Better w-watch that, woman. You’ll end up on the naughty list.”
She laughed and disappeared through the swinging doors.
Zeke thanked his stars every day that Chad had talked him into going to the Frog Dog all those months ago. And he thanked his stars that Ember had a heart bigger than the sky itself that allowed her to see him, not just the shell he had been left with after Afghanistan.
A group of rowdy guys came in the door, laughing and joking around. They’d obviously just come from another bar. One tall young guy, lean, dark haired, seemed to be herding the group. At least they had a DD.
They settled onto a group of bar stools in front of him. One young blond looked up at Zeke in shock when he asked for their order. “Dude, your face is seriously fucked up.”
If Zeke hadn’t heard a variation of that almost nightly for the past several months it might have hurt his feelings. “Yep. What about it?”
He gave himself points for not stuttering on that.
The blond shook his head but continued to stare. Zeke took the rest of the group’s drink orders then came back to the blond, staring at him expectantly.
The young kid must have had a flash of sobriety because he ordered a beer and turned away.
“Sorry about that,” the tall kid with dark hair told him. “Hamilton isn’t the brightest bulb in the box, even without beer.”
Zeke shrugged his heavy shoulders. “No big deal.”
He set the kid’s Coke in front of him. When he reached for his wallet Zeke waved him off. “DDs get unl-limited pop. Bar rules.”
Grinning, the guy took a swig of the cola. “Thanks!”
Zeke moved down the bar to the other customers, but he wasn’t surprised when Blondie waved him down again. The kid had the daddy-gives-me-money look, entitled and pretentious. Zeke doubted anybody had ever told him no on anything. The other two guys that were with him laughed at something he said, pounding him on the back. The DD leaned over him, obviously trying to shush the drunk up, but he got shoved away.
“So dude, how did your face get so fucked up? And why haven’t you fixed that shit?”
Zeke lifted a brow at the impertinent question, tempted to smack the kid into politeness. Ember definitely wouldn’t appreciate him smacking the customers.
“Well,” he told the kid slowly, planning his words, “a grenade hit the wall I took cover at and came d-d-down on top of me.”
“Did you say a grenade?” the kid slurred.
Zeke nodded once.
“Fuck!” he breathed. “Why didn’t you duck?”
Zeke gave a snort of laughter. “It’s n-n-not that easy.”
The kid leaned a little farther over the bar. “And now you can’t talk right either, huh?”
Zeke tipped his head, quickly losing patience with the little bugger. The DD tried once again to shut him up but the blond was like a badger, dodging around him to question Zeke. Finally fed up, Zeke just reached across the bar, grabbed the kid by the shirtfront and lifted him off his feet. The kid’s eyes widened and his mouth snapped shut as Zeke leaned in to his ear.
“Now,” he whispered, “you’re going to listen to what I tell you. N-nod your head.”
Blondie nodded, his feet flailing in the air. His hands clutched at Zeke’s iron fist.
“You are causing a disturbance in my bar. If you don’t shut your mouth and be polite, I’m going to shove a barstool down your throat to shut you up. Get me?”
The kid couldn’t nod his head fast enough. Zeke realized the collar may have been a little tight when he dropped him red-faced to the ground, coughing.
Blondie threw a few bills on the bar and waved his cronies away. The DD gave Zeke an apologetic wave before following them out.
A few of the patrons clapped for Zeke, which embarrassed him more than anything. He gave them a wave and grabbed the bar rag.
Ember gave him a funny look when she stopped beside him. Zeke shrugged. “What?”
She shook her dark head and circled around him to deliver the food on the tray. “Nothing. Just don’t scratch my bar when you do that.”
He chuckled, realizing he’d been caught. Hell, she’d probably watched him the entire time. It did him good to know that she trusted him. Zeke didn’t work at the bar all the time, just when they were short-staffed. But he’d tried to make it a point to be there when Ember was too. Just being near her made him happy, even if it was scrubbing glasses or pulling beers.
The public reaction to him had changed as well and he had to wonder how much of what he had seen before had been him building it up worse in his mind. Now for the most part customers would give him a little longer glance but he had realized that they reacted to his reaction. If he scowled and turned away it seemed like they were more likely to glance at him out of the corners of their eyes and whisper. If he gave them his smile or nod and welcomed them they reacted the same way. There were still the odd punks that could get his tail out of shape like Blondie, but for the most part his self-confidence had grown by leaps and bounds. He’d even caught a couple of women twittering about him behind their hands. It had been the most incredible feeling. When the more forward of the two had slipped him her number he’d looked at it, stunned. Then he’d admitted he was in a relationship and thanked her nicely before beating feet back to the kitchen.
Ember had laughed and shaken her head at him later that night. “Damn. I was hopin
g it would take longer for the women to start hitting on you! They just saw what I did a long time ago.”
Zeke had wrapped his arms around her and kissed her senseless, praying that he could live up to what she saw in him.
The light of his life stopped beside him, hand on her curvy hip. “What are you thinking about to put that smile on your face?”
Zeke looked at her wispy dark hair falling from her ponytail and her dancing brown eyes. “Just this crazy waitress that grabbed my heart.”
She grinned even more and leaned up to give him a peck on the lips. “I love you too big guy. I’m going to go back in the office and work on payroll. Can you handle this for a while?”
He nodded and watched as she walked away.
“Hits you in the gut, doesn’t it?”
Zeke nodded before he turned to Chad and held out a hand. “Good to see you, buddy. W-what’s up?”
Chad settled onto a chair, chewing gum. “I made the call and had to do some fancy dancing, but Operation Wilde is a go.”
Zeke let out a whoop and slapped hands with his buddy, but he didn’t even care that most of the patrons in the bar looked his way. This was freaking awesome news. “Everything on this end is s-s-set, too. Food’s arranged and we’ll officially be closed that n-night.”
“I saw the sign on the door. Ember and her dad don’t mind having the party here?”
Zeke made a face. “Hell, no. Th-they’re e-ecstatic to do it. Everything will be ready.”
“Good. If you need help just let me know.”
“I will.”
Chad slipped off the chair. “I’m heading home. Lora made chili tonight in celebration of Mercy’s last day of school and I’m running late. See ya, Zeke.”
Zeke waved and greeted a customer, but his mind was still on the upcoming Christmas party. This was going to be something.
Chapter Four
‡
Duncan huffed out a breath and turned for the door. Everybody would be meeting at the Frog Dog in a couple hours and he needed to head home and get cleaned up. He’d been in the same clothes entirely too long.