She wanted dinner and a movie? I knew how to cook. Well, a little. I could learn how to cook better, so I could make her something to eat that would impress her. I had Netflix. We could watch a movie. A chic flick. I’d look into movies that would make a woman want to cuddle next to me. I would study and learn all about “romancing” a woman. I would do some research online to find out how to “woo” a woman into my bed. I was going to make the effort to make Anna mine. She’d said a relationship between us was wrong. But I didn’t care. I planned to make it right. I was going to plan her seduction, using everything Celia had taught me about pleasing a woman. I was going to lure Anna into my bed. And try to keep her coming back again and again, for as long as possible.
I’d come to the conclusion that I couldn’t have Anna in my house and not touch her. She was too damn tempting. That meant I was either going to have to remove myself from the house. Or I was going to touch her.
The sting of her rejection was still fresh. I would have to plan this a little better.
If she wanted dinner and a movie, then that was what I would give her.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Anna
Jacob didn’t come out of his room until almost three o’clock the next afternoon. Hazel and I were at the kitchen table playing Go Fish when he strolled into the room, shirtless as usual—didn’t the man know his naked torso was distracting?—his dark hair flattened on one side, a sexy, just-woke-up look on his handsome face. I tried not to stare, but I was only human after all, and my gaze roamed over his impressive masculinity, unable to resist. Was I a fool to have turned him down last night? What kind of lover would a man like Jacob be? If the way he kissed was any indication, then I had no doubt I would enjoy every moment in that man’s arms.
His gaze met mine. Heat scalded my cheeks and I looked away, afraid he knew exactly what I’d been thinking.
“Hi, Daddy.” Hazel grinned at him. “We’re playing Go Fish.” Hazel and Jacob were definitely more comfortable around each other now. Their relationship was steadily growing with each day, and it was nice to see Hazel no longer afraid of him and him less awkward around her.
Jacob paused beside her chair and bent to kiss her cheek, making sloppy kissing noises that made Hazel giggle and pull away. “Stop it! That tickles!”
I smiled. It was nice to see him acting so loose and carefree with his daughter. So normal. Like a real father. Damn, he was really starting to get under my skin. The more I was around him, the more I liked him, the more attractive he became.
Jacob chuckled, then glanced over at me.
“Hi,” I murmured, unable to think of anything else to say.
His lips twitched. “Hi.” He went to the fridge and pulled out sandwich fixings. Hazel and I went back to our game while he made a sandwich, then put everything away. He came over to the table and pulled out the chair next to me. I tensed, overly aware of his every move as he slid into the chair and began to eat his sandwich.
Hazel eyed the Fritos on his plate. “Can I have a chip, Daddy?”
He nodded, sliding his plate across the table so she could snag one. She crunched loudly, smiling at me, then looked at her father. The Hazel of today was a completely different child than the Hazel I’d met that first day. What had happened to this family to make them so uncomfortable around each other? Had Celia’s death had anything to do with that? He’d said Celia hadn’t been his wife, but a prostitute. So had he lived with her and Celia or had he only visited them every once in a while? Whatever the reason for their previous awkwardness, I was just glad they were learning to trust and accept each other now.
I felt Jacob’s eyes on me and turned to meet his gaze.
“What’s your favorite meal?”
My favorite meal? I cleared my throat. “I like tacos. Any kind really, either chicken or beef, with lots of tomatoes and sour cream, and beans and rice on the side.” I hesitated, searching his eyes, but I couldn’t get a read on him or why he would ask such a thing. Did this have anything to do with me telling him last night that he might want to ask me out first before making a move? I flushed hotly at the thought of him wanting to please me, wanting to cook for me. Would he really do that?
“What about you?” I asked. “What’s your favorite meal?”
He turned back to his sandwich and took a large bite, contemplating his response. He chewed, swallowed, then gulped down several swallows from his water bottle. He glanced back at me, and I found myself lost in those blue, blue eyes. My pulse quickened.
“Steak and potatoes. Medium-rare on the steak. Baked potato with all the fixings or fried potatoes are my favorite. Romaine salad or green beans on the side.” His gaze darted down to my mouth, then slowly crawled back to mine. Heat flared deep in my belly. I stared into his eyes, unable to look away.
“I like macaroni and cheese.” Hazel’s sweet, high-pitched voice broke the spell and I jerked my head toward her, my heart going wild in my chest, trying my best to ignore the sexy man sitting next to me.
“That’s good, too.” I smiled at her.
Jacob finished eating, then rose. He left the kitchen and several minutes later, the sounds of him working out in the back room traveled down the hallway.
I was ready to take some personal time now. I needed to get out of this house and get some fresh air. Explore the town. And get away from Jacob and my overwhelming attraction to him.
When Jacob returned to the kitchen two hours later, his hair damp from a fresh shower and smelling too damn good, Hazel and I were just finishing up her schoolwork.
“I would like to take some personal time today,” I said, closing the laptop he’d bought for Hazel’s schoolwork, and setting the books aside.
His gaze jerked to mine. Wariness flickered across his face before he asked, “How long do you plan to be gone?”
I shrugged. “I’m not sure. I just want to check out the town a little. See if maybe I can find a place to volunteer at.”
He glanced at Hazel, then nodded slowly. “I said I’d buy you a car, since you couldn’t bring yours from Augusta. It’s probably safer if you don’t walk everywhere.”
I cleared my throat. I didn’t feel right letting him buy me a car. He was already paying me more than I deserved. “That’s okay,” I murmured. “I don’t really need a car right now. This town is pretty small. And I like walking.”
“You sure?” He stared into my eyes for a long moment. “I can give you some cash and you can pick out whatever car you want.”
I shook my head. I couldn’t accept his money. That wouldn’t be right. “No. No. I’ll be fine.”
“Okay,” he said at last. “If you change your mind, let me know.” He waited a beat, still watching me. “I guess that means I’m fixing Hazel dinner tonight.”
“I can feed her before I leave,” I offered, but he shook his head.
“I think I can manage macaroni and cheese.” He turned to Hazel. “Let’s play a game. You go pick which one you want and you can show me how to play.”
Hazel beamed up at him with a huge smile. Then she hurried from the room.
I stared at him, stunned. He’d never offered to play with her before, not just the two of them. Maybe I needed to leave more often, force him to spend more time with her.
I grabbed my purse from the kitchen counter and paused, turning back to him. An awkward silence fell. I glanced up into his face, then away. He cleared his throat. “If something happens out there, call me. Got it?”
Jacob had given me a cellphone that first day so I could contact him anytime, day or night. His number was the only one in the phone. I’d never had any reason to use the phone yet. I didn’t have any friends in this town, and I’d only left the house on those few times I’d taken Hazel to the park. Today, I would be venturing out alone. Today, I might need to use the phone.
I nodded. “Okay.”
“Be safe out there, Anna.”
What did he think would happen to me in this small town? Damn him, I wish h
e would just talk to me.
“I’ll be fine,” I assured him.
Hazel returned with a bobbing fish game. Jacob followed her into the living room and moments later the sounds of their voices carried to me as I headed out the front door. Jacob and Hazel needed this time alone. And so did I.
The town was about a half mile from the small suburb where Jacob lived. Eatonton was the home of an arts center, a writer’s museum, and several historical buildings. Most of the shops were either closed or closing as I strolled leisurely around the small town, but the public library was still open and so was the local grocery store. I spied a disabled veteran’s rehabilitation center behind the library, and my curiosity drove me inside. The building was small, older, and had probably been donated by a kind person who’d wanted to help disabled veterans. This was what I’d been looking for. A place where I could be helpful, useful, where I could give to those in need. Where I could prove to myself I wasn’t like my selfish mother.
I approached the fiftyish woman seated behind the front counter.
“Hello. My name’s Anna. I was wondering if you needed any volunteers here. I can help with anything that needs to be done.”
She smiled, her kind brown eyes lighting up. “We certainly do. We have nursing staff for all the patients’ medical needs, but most of these young men don’t have visitors, so someone who is willing to sit and visit with them helps them to not feel so alone.”
I nodded. I could do that. I enjoyed listening to others and hearing their stories. “Okay. Is now a good time to meet everyone or should I come back later?”
She jumped up from behind the desk and held out her hand. “I’m Caroline. Now’s the perfect time. They are all just finishing up their dinner.”
I shook her hand, then followed her down the short hallway to the first room. She knocked on the open door and a male voice called, “Come in.”
I followed Caroline into the room. “Kenny, this is Anna. She’s here to volunteer and visit with you if you would like some company.”
The young, bald-headed man in the bed lifted his head. I barely held back a gasp of horror. Kenny’s face was badly scarred with ugly burns, his left eye swollen shut. A quick glance down at the bed revealed the two stubs that remained of his legs beneath the thin blanket. An amputee. A burned face. What had happened to him? An IED? A bomb? War was never good. Sympathy tugged at me. This poor man, who looked about my own age, had lost so much for this country. The very least I could do was spend some time getting to know him, hearing his story, letting him know he wasn’t alone.
“Hi,” I whispered, smiling as I stepped forward. “Thank you so much for serving our country.”
He cleared his throat and nodded. Then he waved at the stubs of his legs and snorted. “As you can see, not much of me made it back.”
My throat clogged with emotion. “I’d say the best parts of you are here. Who needs legs when all they do is get in the way, anyway? I’m such a klutz, I’m always tripping over my own feet.” As if to prove my point, I accidentally tripped forward, stumbling into the edge of the bed. Yes, it was an accident, though I wish I could claim I’d done it on purpose.
Caroline snorted softly with laughter, then she turned to leave. “I’ll let you visit for a bit. When you’re ready to see the others, just let me know.”
“Thanks.” I righted myself, my face on fire with embarrassment, and glanced down at Kenny.
Kenny eyed me a moment, a contemplative look on his face. Then he chuckled. “You’re funny. Come sit. Tell me your story.”
Relieved that I hadn’t offended him, and surprised that he wanted to hear my story, I scooted a chair up next to the bed and sat. “I’m pretty boring. I do stupid, klutzy things like trip over my own feet. I’d rather hear your story.”
He let out a soft laugh and shook his head. “No. You make me laugh. I want to hear your story first.”
And so I spent the next several hours meeting all the patients at the rehabilitation center and getting to know each one. Some weren’t as open as Kenny, and a few even appeared to resent my presence, but I introduced myself to each of them, and promised I’d return several days a week to visit with them if they wanted me to. Most said they would like that, while a few didn’t encourage me to return. That was fine. I would visit the ones who wanted company.
When I left, it was almost eight o’clock, but I felt good about my visit, about the people I’d met. Each was different, scarred both inside and out, and some were suffering more deeply than others. I was glad I could help them, even if it was just sitting there and listening to them tell their stories. I felt blessed after having met each of them. I was still keeping my vow to do good, to be selfless and help others.
I noticed the public library was closed now, so I would have to come back another time. It was time to head back. The walk back seemed to take longer than the walk into town. Very few people were about now, most settling in for the night.
My phone chimed in my purse as I reached the subdivision where Jacob lived. Jacob was the only one who had this number. I pulled my phone out.
A text lit up the screen.
It’s getting dark. Where are you?
I let out a soft huff. He was acting like an overprotective parent. But he wasn’t my father and I wasn’t a child.
On my way, I texted back. Visited the disabled veterans’ center and met some really nice guys. You should go with me next time.
I wasn’t sure how he would respond to that, but Jacob really needed to get out of the house more. And I believed he would enjoy meeting those vets, sitting and hearing their stories with me.
Hurry up, came his response.
I snorted and stuffed the phone back in my purse. Impatient, are we?
I finally reached his house and strolled up the driveway. The front door jerked open just as I was reaching for the handle. Jacob scowled at me. “It’s about damn time. Hazel’s in bed, ready for a story.”
“Nice to see you, too,” I grumbled as I stepped inside. “And you’re Hazel’s father, so you should be able to read her a story, don’t you think?”
He closed and locked the door behind me. “I don’t…read stories. She needs you.”
I didn’t like his snippy attitude. Dammit, I deserved a few hours to myself without having to feel guilty. Couldn’t the man take care of his own damn kid for that long?
“I thought you’ve been doing really well with her these past days. What happened?”
He looked away, his face filling with color. “Reading…is not that easy for me.” He turned his face away, then whispered, “I’m…dyslexic.”
Holy crap. That was probably the last thing I’d expected him to say. Sympathy tugged at me. It wasn’t his fault. I was beginning to understand Jacob a little better now. He’d just shared something personal with me, something very private. That had likely been a difficult thing for him to admit.
I touched his hand. “Jacob, that’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
He glanced down at me, unable to hide the pain in his eyes. “My five-year-old can read better than I can. I don’t want her to know that.” He swallowed hard. “If I try to read to her, she’ll know how stupid I am.”
My chest tightened. What? “You’re not stupid. Lots of people have disabilities. You are not alone.”
He paced away from me in obvious agitation. “Would you go read to her now, please?”
I sighed. “Of course.” I turned and headed toward Hazel’s room. Maybe I could convince him to go to the disabled veterans’ center with me next time. It would show him he wasn’t alone, that there were other people with disabilities.
I didn’t know much about dyslexia, except that it was a reading disability, and that it sometimes affected other areas of people’s lives, as well.
All I did know was that Jacob had confided in me about something very private. That had to mean something, right? Was he learning to trust me?
I felt special. Privileged.
I no
w knew a secret about Jacob.
And knowing that secret did not make me want to leave.
Instead, it made me eager to learn more about him.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Jacob
I can’t believe I’d told her about my dyslexia. It wasn’t something I shared with other people. While I’d been a soldier for The Company, The General had put me through numerous tests. He’d wanted all his soldiers to be perfect, in mind and body. So, he’d hired a special “tutor” to come in and help me with my dyslexia. I had a low attention span and got distracted too easily. Any kind of sound would jerk me out of what I was trying to read. Words would appear jumbled in front of my eyes, sometimes backwards, and I would regress, read the same sentence over and over and not comprehend what I was reading. I would get so frustrated, that I’d react violently, throwing things, screaming at people. I hated reading. I only did it if I absolutely had to. I could read. I just couldn’t do it very well or for very long. It was humiliating that my kid could read better than I could.
“You have a high I.Q., Jacob,” The General had told me once. “You just need to learn to concentrate harder, not let yourself be distracted so much.” And later, when it became apparent that I wasn’t going to read well no matter how hard I tried, he’d sighed in frustration and said, “Well, I guess we’ll have to use that high I.Q. of yours in another way. We’ll have to teach you something that doesn’t involve reading.”
And so I’d become The Fighter.
I’d always been athletic, and The General had taken advantage of that. I’d had the best martial arts teachers. The toughest training. Over the years, I’d been honed into the perfect killing machine. Fighting and killing were about the only things I did well. My dyslexia didn’t affect my ability to move. To attack. To disable my target. To kill.
But it had once affected other parts of my life. When I’d been younger, I would have difficulty putting thoughts into words, and would sometimes blurt out things that offended people. With Ralph’s help, I’d learned to communicate better. To think carefully before I spoke. When he’d died, a part of my soul had gone with him. I’d been a loner ever since his death, distancing myself from my dreg brothers, hiding in my apartment instead of hanging out with them.
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