by Sandra Owens
“You don’t know what a relief it is to know he’s gone.” Nichole glanced at Deke. “He is gone, right?”
“He left yesterday. I’m meeting Heather for lunch, so I need to go.”
After Deke left, Nichole jumped on him, wrapping her legs around his waist. “Well, hello there.” He grinned at her. “Someone’s happy.”
“You have no idea. It feels like a hundred pounds has been lifted from my shoulders knowing he’s gone. We need to celebrate.”
“And I know just how.”
She leaned back so she could see his face, then smirked. “I recognize that look in your eyes.”
“Good. Means I don’t have to explain what’s about to happen.”
“If we’re going to keep doing this in my studio, I think we need to add another piece of furniture.”
Jack groaned when she rubbed her groin against his. “Yeah? What’s that?”
“A bed.”
“On it,” he said, then backed her up against the wall. Even though he was growing fond of this wall, tomorrow she’d have her bed.
Truth, all she had to do was ask, and whatever it was, he’d do everything in his power to give it to her. And someday, when the timing was right and he was sure she’d say yes, he’d give her the diamond ring he’d bought a few days ago and had hidden away. Then they could get busy making his Grammie happy and give her great-grandbabies to spoil.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Eight months later
“She’s never going to be a therapy dog, at least not the kind I’m training for my military brothers and sisters,” Jack told Nichole as they watched the still growing puppy chase Rambo around the backyard while Dakota sat next to him, observing her wards play.
Maggie May was too happy, too exuberant, too needy to get all the love from any person she came in contact with. Besides, he wasn’t sure he could give her up. She was a clown with overgrown feet that she kept tripping over. She supplied them with laughs every single day, and he doubted Nichole would be any more willing to let her go than he was.
Maggie May was also dumb as shit. As a therapy dog, she’d shower her owner with love, but that was about it. Even after eight months of working with her, the silly dog couldn’t remember her lessons from one day to the next, but he had an idea of a way she could contribute.
“Then we get to keep her?” Nichole asked.
“I figure neither you nor Dakota will speak to me again if we don’t.” He could probably include Rambo in that, too. The three dogs had formed a tight family.
She laughed. “You have that right.”
“I do think she’d make a good therapy dog in another way. I’d like to try her out on visiting the children’s floor at the hospital and making visits to retirement facilities. We could start her out at Grammie’s place, get her used to doing something like that.”
“That’s a great idea! I think she’d be amazing with children and older people.”
“You’re amazing.” He glanced at the woman who’d taught him how to be happy. “You look good enough to eat. If we didn’t have to leave in five minutes...” He waggled his eyebrows.
“But we do, so let’s get the dogs in.” As they herded their fur-kids inside, she said, “Are you nervous?”
“There wasn’t a military operation I went out on that made me as nervous as I am now, if that tells you anything.” That was a fact. His stomach was doing somersaults, and he was afraid he might lose his lunch.
She grabbed his hands and pulled him to a stop. “Everything is going to be perfect.”
“As long as I have you, that’s all that matters.”
“You will always have me. Now, let’s go to the grand opening of Operation K-9 Brothers.”
“On it,” he said.
* * *
Jack hadn’t dared to hope that every invitation he’d sent out for the Operation K-9 Brothers grand opening would be accepted, but he couldn’t think of a single person on the invite list who was missing, except for his SEAL brothers who were deployed. If they were stateside, he knew every single one of them would be here for him.
He’d taken Nichole to Virginia Beach a few times when the team had been home, and they now considered her their sister. Double D had even sung Sister Sledge’s “We are Family” to her.
On their last visit, his team had warned him to treat her right or he’d be hearing from them. That was something they’d never have to worry about, but he loved that his brothers had adopted her.
He glanced over at the tables where all the items for the silent auction were set up. Every potter friend of Nichole’s was out in force, their donations to the cause on the tables. Three different caterers had donated food and sodas, a local winery had set up a tasting booth, as had two of Asheville’s microbreweries.
The support from his town was humbling.
Dirty Mary’s laughter caught his attention. The one table he refused to go near was the one his grandmother’s cronies were hosting. It had drawn a large crowd all afternoon, and he shuddered at the thought of what items they’d come up with to sell.
Ron Kitterman, his mentor, who’d helped fast-track Jack’s therapy dog certification, slapped a hand over his back. “You should be proud of yourself, son.”
Jack scanned the area around him. “Do I sound like I’m bragging to say that I am?”
“Hell no. You worked harder to make this happen in about half the time than I thought possible. Definitely be proud. I have something for you.” He handed Jack a check made out to Operation K-9 Brothers.
Jack’s eyes widened at seeing the amount. “Damn, I wasn’t expecting this.”
“You’re doing some good for people here, Jack. By giving you this, I get bragging rights that I discovered you.”
“No way I’m going to say no to that.”
Ron squeezed his shoulder, then melted into the crowd. Jack looked at the check again to make sure he hadn’t read the amount wrong. He hadn’t. Ron had also worked with him on designing the kennels and training center after Jack had purchased the land. He owed the man big-time.
Other donations were coming in, and he’d already sold two sponsorships. Operation K-9 Brothers’ website was amazing thanks to Nichole’s brother. And then there was Nichole. She now donated a percentage of all her pottery sales to Operation K-9 Brothers. That meant more to him than he could ever tell her.
How was he going to thank all the people who’d helped make his dream happen? A year ago, he’d thought his life was over, and now he had a new future that excited him as much as being a SEAL had—even more, actually—a woman who loved him in spite of all his faults, a super-smart military-trained dog, a dog that was learning to live up to his name of Rambo, and a dumber-than-dumb dog that he wouldn’t have any different.
What more could he ask for?
He stood near the kennels, watching the people check out his dogs. He had eleven in various stages of training and was on the lookout for more.
The Jacobys approached, Trucker walking next to Nigel Senior, and Jack smiled as they neared. “Thank you for coming,” he said when the family stopped in front of him.
Nigel offered his hand. “We wanted to be here. I’ll admit that I wasn’t a believer in what a dog could do for me.”
“And now you are?”
“And now I am. I’m not back to where I was before my deployments, but I’m a lot better than I was before Trucker.” At hearing his name, the dog peered up, and Nigel scratched his head.
“I want to train dogs like you do when I grow up,” Junior said.
Jack smiled down at him. “Tell you what. When you get a little older, if you want, you can volunteer a few hours a week, see how you like it.”
Junior glanced at his parents. “Can I? Please. Please.”
“If you still want to by then,” his father said. “We’re going to
head out. Just wanted to tell you that you’re doing a good thing here. I’ll see you Tuesday.”
“You bet.” Jack had fast-tracked Trucker’s training, but the dog still wasn’t where he needed to be, so he was working with Nigel and Trucker one-on-one on Tuesday mornings.
After they left, he scanned the area, looking for Nichole. Mark was standing with Deke and Heather. As soon as Mark learned Gregory was gone, he’d returned, and with the mind-boggling money he’d sold his game for, he’d bought Nichole’s house. He’d created another game already and was busy fine-tuning it before sending it to Clint Alba, now acting as Mark’s agent. Jack was surprised at how much fun he was having, playing the new game with Mark, looking for bugs.
He gave a grunt of satisfaction. All was right in his world...or would be if he could find Nichole. Today was important for more reasons than she knew. The event was winding down, and people were leaving. The time for the next item on his agenda was drawing near. He was nervous as hell.
* * *
“Come with me, Nic,” Mark said.
“Have you seen Jack?” Everyone was gone, the grounds cleaned up, and her boyfriend was nowhere in sight. Jack’s grand opening had been a tremendous success, and she couldn’t be prouder of him and what he’d accomplished.
“He’s around somewhere.” He grabbed her hand. “I need to show you something.”
When he stopped in front of the Operation K-9 Brothers sign, she glanced around. “What am I supposed to be looking at?”
“Just stand here and don’t move,” he said, then walked away.
Okay, this was weird. What was her brother up to? Maybe a minute passed, and then Dakota trotted up to her, carrying a silver gift bag in her mouth. Dakota sat in front of her, and Nichole took the bag.
“What’s this?” She reached inside, pulling out a black satin mask with a note attached to it. “‘Put this on,’” she read aloud. Weirder and weirder. Well, only one way to find out what was going on. She put on the mask.
As she stood, waiting to find out what was going to happen, she heard rustling, a dog that sounded like Maggie May bark, and then the quick growl that Dakota would give Maggie May when she was misbehaving, and was that Grammie giggling? She was sure it was her brother who shushed her.
Then all was quiet.
“You can take off the mask,” Jack said.
“Not sure I want to,” she muttered, suddenly nervous and not sure why.
Jack chuckled. “Do it anyway, babe.”
The sight in front of her sent her heart into jackhammer mode. Jack was on one knee, holding a black-velvet box open to reveal a beautiful diamond ring. Dakota sat on his right side with Maggie May next to her, and on Jack’s left was Rambo.
“Oh,” she whispered. Oh.
“Nichole Masters, when I was at my darkest, you walked into my life, bringing light. I wasn’t expecting you, hadn’t planned for you, and probably don’t deserve you.” He glanced at the velvet box. “I bought this ring eight months ago, knowing even then that I wanted to wake up next to you for the rest of my life.”
“Jack.” Darn him, he was going to make her cry.
“Hush. I’m not done yet.” He gave her his special smile, and if melting into a puddle was a possible thing, she’d be doing it again. “As hard as it was to wait to ask my question, I did because I wanted to make sure you saw that I could make something of myself, that I’m more than what I even thought I could be. That’s why you’re standing under the sign for my new future... Our new future.”
“Oh, Jack,” she whispered, falling to her knees in front of him. “I always knew you were more.”
“And you made me believe it.” He glanced to his right, where his two dogs sat. “Along with me, Dakota and Maggie May are asking you and Rambo to be a part of our lives forever. Will you marry me, Nichole?”
Rambo barked.
Jack winked at her. “He said yes. What do you say?”
Only because she’d spent months with him learning about dogs did she catch his subtle sign telling her dog to bark. “I think you cheated,” she said, laughing.
“I’ll do whatever it takes to make you mine, Nichole.”
“Only if you’re also mine, Jack Daniels.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way, babe.” He slipped the ring on her finger and then kissed the daylights out of her.
“Finally, I’m going to get great-grandbabies,” Grammie said from behind them.
Nichole snorted a laugh against his mouth, and then couldn’t stop laughing.
“Not right this minute, Grammie,” Jack said between kisses as he laughed along with her.
“Who would have thought that one drunken phone call would lead to this?” She held up her hand, admiring the platinum square-cut diamond solitaire ring.
“Babe, you can drunk dial me anytime you feel like it.”
She smiled at the beautiful man who’d shown her how love could really be...how it should be. “I might just do that.”
Epilogue
Noah Alba leaned against the wall of the nightclub in Virginia Beach, his gaze on the woman in the red dress that hugged every curve. He eyed the fine ass that the dress barely covered. Maybe she could make him forget for a few hours. Nothing else had worked—not the whiskey that was his new best friend since being sent home, and not the shrink his commander ordered him to see.
“You look like you could use a little pickup.” Rocky held out his hand, a small dime-size baggie of white powder in his palm.
“What is it?”
“The best kind of candy. This one’s on the house.” Rocky tucked the baggie into Noah’s shirt pocket, then pushed off the wall and walked away.
“On the house, my ass,” Noah muttered. It hadn’t taken long after Rocky had sidled up to him earlier in the evening and introduced himself to figure out the man was dealing drugs. He hadn’t tried to hide the money and baggies changing hands.
Noah knew the reason for the freebie...get him on the hook and then wait for him to come back for more. He put a finger to the outside of his pocket, feeling the outline of the baggie. Maybe it was the answer to helping him forget.
* * *
“Babe, have you seen my wallet?” Jack said. “I thought I left it on the coffee table.”
Nichole walked out of the bedroom, and Jack let out a breath, forgetting about his missing wallet. She had on his favorite dress, the black one with the slashes of red that she’d worn on their first date.
He moved next to her, then trailed his hand down her bare back. “As beautiful as you are in this dress, all I’m going to be thinking about tonight is getting you out of it.”
She laughed. “You think the same thing when I’m wearing my ratty potter clothes and covered in clay.”
“Not my fault you’re sexy as hell covered in clay.” It was Heather’s birthday, so he and Nichole were treating her and Deke to dinner at one of Asheville’s finer restaurants. He rested his finger at the low V of the dress, so tantalizingly close to her gorgeous ass. “We could call them and say you’re sick, and I have to stay home and take care of you.”
“You have a one-track mind, Jack Daniels.”
“Not denying it, and it bears repeating... Your fault.”
“Well, if I have to be blamed for something, I’ll take that one.”
And damn if that smile of hers didn’t still make his heart twitchy, but he was good now with twitchy. Real good. “I guess since you won’t let me call in sick, we should go. I just need to find my wallet.”
“Have you checked Maggie May’s bed?”
“Right. Should have thought of that.” Maggie May had turned into a master thief and hoarder. Nothing was safe from her thieving. Fortunately, she never chewed things up, just wanted to own them. It was good he had a soft spot in his heart for the idiot dog.
Sure enough, his
wallet was in her bed, along with Nichole’s Kindle, one of her bras, and a collection of dog toys. He’d cleaned out her bed this morning, and already she’d amassed a hoarder’s treasure trove.
Dakota walked up next to him, and Jack glanced at her. “Can’t you do something about your kleptomaniac daughter?” All he got from her was a doggy sigh. “I know the feeling,” he said.
As he headed back to the living room, his wallet safely in his pocket, his phone rang. He frowned at seeing his former commander’s name on the screen. Why would he be calling?
“Sir?” Jack said on answering.
“I need you to come get Double D.”
Huh? “Get him from where?” Jack had heard that an operation Noah Alba was on had gone south, but he hadn’t heard the details.
“From here. He’s in trouble, Jack, and you’re the best plan I can think of for saving him.”
There was no one Jack respected more than his commander, a man he couldn’t say no to. “Maybe you should tell me what’s going on.”
“He made a mistake that resulted in the team’s dog and translator getting killed. He’s drowning in an ocean of guilt. I’ll brief you when you get here.”
Even though Jack was no longer in the military, his former commander was giving him an order, one he wouldn’t ignore.
“I’ll leave in the morning, sir.”
* * *
Noah groaned at the hammering in his head that kept time with whoever was pounding on his fucking door. A full bottle of whiskey might not have been the smartest thing he’d ever done, so why he kept doing it was...whatever. He couldn’t follow his own thought process because some asshole was banging in his head!
He stumbled to the door, opened it, and said, “Go away.”
“You look like shit, Double D.”