The same guy who makes me aware of my heartbeat.
The same guy who infiltrated my thoughts and caused a restless night’s sleep.
That was before a massive amount of guilt grabbed hold, and my sleepless night morphed into a pity party for one.
“I wonder how long he plans on staying.” Him being in Sunnyville can’t bode well for my psyche.
“I’m not sure, but watch this one. His broodiness has that mysterious vibe, but he isn’t overly friendly. He’s staying at The Cottages and hardly spoke to Mrs. Overly when he checked in. She asked about his occupation, and he clammed up like a shell. Something’s definitely off with him. He may be a looker, but the way he blows off the locals . . .” Jill makes a clicking sound with her tongue. “His city-slicker attitude won’t last long around here.”
I turn to Jill, my hackles raised. I’m not sure why I feel the need to defend his honor, but Nate was nothing but friendly yesterday. Sure, he may have been a tad evasive, but he didn’t back down. Even my rudeness wasn’t a deterrent, no matter how hard I tried to make him leave. “How do you know all of this?”
“Cathy called me last night. She’s the town informant in case you forgot.”
“You mean the town gossip?” I bark out a laugh. Some things never change. I may have only lived here my senior year, but that was plenty long enough to know who the go-to person was for juicy topics—Chatty Cathy Clementine.
“I suppose, but she keeps things classy. She is an elementary teacher.”
“How long ago did he arrive?” I ignore the fact that the town gossip teaches young children and shift my focus back to Nate. I moved back to town three months ago, and yesterday was the first I’ve seen of him. He couldn’t have been here for too long. From the impression I got yesterday, I thought he was passing through town.
“According to Cathy, he checked in late yesterday afternoon.”
“Wait. You got all this information in less than a day?” I stare at her in amazement as she lifts a shoulder.
“Small town, remember? Everyone knows everything. Surely, you remember that. You haven’t been gone that long.”
Damn, if they’re gossiping that heavily about him after one evening, what are they saying about me? The girl who bragged about leaving this town and never coming back. My big dreams and all. I spin the gold band on my left ring finger. “No, I remember.”
I remember lots of things. Like how differently I thought my life would turn out. I had such big aspirations of leaving this town and living in a big city. Of becoming somebody. I never thought I’d be a mother of two and a widow at twenty-eight.
I straighten as Nate ambles his way to the counter. Those deep-seated eyes that bear more mystery than facts crinkle at the corner as a smile coats his lips the moment recognition sets in.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Ms. Stranded.”
“Good thing you have your shirt on or else I wouldn’t be able to serve you.” I can’t hide my smirk when he tilts his head back and laughs. The deep, throaty sound shoots right through me and straight to my thighs. My body’s reaction alarms me as reality rears her ugly head. I tamper down the guilt threatening to bubble. What am I doing? Flirting? It’s way too soon, not to mention highly inappropriate.
“You caught me at a rare moment. I assure you I don’t go around shirtless too often.”
“That’s a damn shame.” I cringe as soon as the words leave my mouth, and Nate’s eyebrows shoot up. Jill chokes, which she tries to disguise as a cough. What is wrong with me? It’s not as if I haven’t seen deliciously cut abs before. I’m making a fool of myself. The grieving widow so desperate for attention she’s willing to shamelessly flirt with the first guy she lays eyes on. Maybe I should slither away and return once he leaves town.
“Did you get those new car tires yet?” he asks, seemingly letting me off the hook. He has no idea how much I appreciate that lifeline.
“This is the guy who helped you out until Tatman’s got there?” By the way she emphasized this, one would equate Nate to a piranha. But I know why she’s confused. Her biased opinion of him doesn’t quite match that of an overly friendly person who goes out of their way to help.
Nate turns toward Jill, the stoic expression he wears so well back in place. He’s no doubt wondering where her astonishment comes from. I doubt he realizes he’s already the town’s newest shiny toy. Shiny boy toy, that is.
“Uh, yeah, sorry. Nate, this is Jill Copeland, my manager.”
“Nice to meet you, ma’am.” Gruffness edges his tone, smothering the tiny bit of playfulness he held moments ago.
Jill’s face flushes. “Oh, well. I’m glad you were there to help. That’s very Superman-ish of you.” She hitches her thumb over her shoulder to the back hall. “I, uh, need to go to the back.”
We watch her backside retreat in silence. What was that?
“Did she think I was incapable of helping?”
I let out a nervous laugh. “Small town. You’re the new shiny object.”
“Ah, okay.” He shakes his head. “So, the tires?”
“They couldn’t get the tires in until tomorrow, but I left the car there. Mom’s letting me borrow her sedan.” I bite back my sigh and plant a fake smile. He doesn’t need to know my financial woes, but it’s hard not to worry. Tires are an expense I didn’t anticipate. Who the hell knew rubber could be so expensive?
“Good.” He holds my gaze for a moment before diverting his eyes to the menu behind me. “I’ll take a tall coffee, black.”
I give him the total and make his change after he hands me the cash. “Rumor has it you’re staying in town. How long are you here for?”
“Depends.”
I twist to the counter behind me and pour his drink. The coffee aroma circles around us, and I suck in the bittersweet scent more for encouragement than anything. “Depends on what?” I ask, fishing for information when I have no right.
“What the circumstances end up being.”
He goes quiet, and I don’t miss his elusiveness to answering my question. The gossip birds peck at my thoughts like a damn rooster pecking the back of a hen’s neck. Maybe there is a mysterious vibe to him. He certainly doesn’t like to talk about himself. Gah, I’m letting these townspeople get inside my head. Before too long, I’ll be perched on my own branch in the gossip phone tree.
“Good luck figuring it out. Have a good day.” I place the lid on the Styrofoam cup and hand him the coffee.
“I’m sure I’ll be back.” His fingers graze over mine as he grabs his cup. My gaze sweeps up to meet his. I try like hell to ignore the tingles racing through my body. But I get a feeling he’s aware of the visceral reaction his touch caused when he lifts his drink and adds, “For the coffee.”
I stand transfixed as his face goes stoic. Without a word, he about-faces, and I watch his backside walk through the door, leaving me warm and flustered. And completely confused.
“Holy crap. You didn’t tell me your knight in shining armor was the mysterious new guy in town.” Jill fans herself. “That man is one hell of a fine specimen.”
She isn’t wrong, but the last thing I need to be doing is scoping out men. It’s too soon. “I suppose.”
“Girl, I know you’re in mourning, and I should be more sensitive, but did you not see that fine ass?”
“You called him an ass.”
“No, I said he was mysterious and broody.”
“There’s a difference?” I bark out an exasperated laugh.
“On him there is. A huge one.” Her eyes widen. “Speaking of huge, I wonder if he—”
The door opens to my eighty-two-year-old neighbor, Millie Norfolk. I chuckle. “Saved by the bell.”
But as Jill takes Millie’s order, I replay Nate’s answer to how long he’s staying in town. What does “it depends” mean, and what circumstances could he be talking about? Jill got one thing right: Nate Dixon sure is one hot, mysterious man. Not that it makes a difference. I’ll never let a guy,
no matter who he is, thwart my plans ever again.
Chapter Three
Nate
“What’s their ETA?” I glanced up from the medical journal and leaned back in my desk chair, directing my question to my intern, Royce Nuri. I appeared more casual than I felt.
“Twenty minutes, sir.”
Ethan, you son of a bitch, you made it.
It wasn’t like me to stress over missions. But his “last letter” tucked in my cabinet in my barrack had gotten to me. Ethan never did shit like that. His move spooked me.
Royce’s gaze flicked to the exit before returning to me, face devoid of emotion. He was hard to read, but he would make one hell of a surgeon someday. When he assisted in surgery, I always felt proud. He came to our unit to fill in as a translator, but I advocated for him to stay. He was placed under my direction.
The hum of the fighter jet sounded in the distance, and I breathed a little easier. Once the birds land, I’d be able to relax. This eeriness clawed its way down my spine when I woke up. I blamed Ethan and his stupid letter. The dumbass. He should’ve known better.
I pushed from the chair, ready to head out and meet my brothers. Whether or not the upper brass deemed the mission a success was irrelevant. There weren’t any wounded coming in, so the team’s effort was a success in my eyes.
“Let’s go join them.” I grabbed my doctor’s kit for a “just in case moment” and pushed past Royce.
“Go ahead, Doc. I’ll be right there.”
I glanced over my shoulder. Royce hadn’t moved. He stood ramrod straight with sweat beads pooling on his forehead. “You feeling okay?”
“I’m fine.” His mouth opened and closed before looking directly at me. “Thanks for giving me this chance.”
“You’re going to make a good doctor.” His haunted expression signaled alarm bells, but I filed them away to deal with later. I needed to review his workload and see how stressful it was. “I’ll catch up with you later.”
Little did I know what later had in store for us.
I wake with a start, my breaths a rapid succession of pants as a cold sweat breaks across my torso. The early morning sun filters through the venetian blinds, casting shadows around the naturally bright bedroom. But pale blue walls and floral print aren’t what I visualize. No, all I see is sandy soil stained red. I squeeze my eyes shut to expel the images and shift my focus to my breathing. The thing the therapist reminded me to do in this type of situation is to get my breathing under control. Once I take charge of my breathing, then I can relax. So that’s what I do. I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling until I take back control of my body.
Shit.
The last thing I want is to become another post-traumatic stress disorder statistic. That can’t happen to me. My role is to recognize the symptoms and direct patients to a psychologist. I’m not supposed to be on the receiving end of treatment.
I force myself to sit on the edge of the bed and scrub my hand along my face.
“I’m so fucking sorry, Ethan.”
Guilt slams into me from saying his name out loud. Voicing his name makes his death more real. More final. I hate it. If I could reverse roles, I would switch in a heartbeat. It should be me left behind, and Ethan here with Mackenzie and their two boys. Whoever said life isn’t fair knew what the fuck they were talking about.
I flip the bedside table lamp switch on and grab his letter off the table. Taking the palm of my hand, I iron the well-worn creases flat and proceed to read.
Nate,
Damn, this letter is harder to write than I thought. I’ve started and stopped so many times. I guess no one wants to stare death in the eyes and think about what happens after. That sort of shit thinking gets people killed. But relax and stop cursing. Trust me, I hear you. Every. Damn. Word. So don’t pretend you didn’t chastise me when you found this letter. And yeah, I know, it’s bad juju to write these stupid things. You’re probably wondering why mess with fate then. Well, brother, I have to be honest. I don’t have a good feeling this time. I know the mission is supposed to be swift. In and out. There shouldn’t be a reason to write one damn word. And you’re right. I shouldn’t press my luck. But as you say, I’m a dumb motherfucker.
Don’t worry. I’ll leave out the mushy shit and spare you the tears. My only demand is for you to humor me and follow through with what I’m asking. First, don’t beat yourself up. I know you tried like hell to save my sorry ass. Do not be swallowed by guilt. Shit happens on the field. It’s what I signed up for.
Now that the sentimental shit is out of the way, let’s get to the most important favor. Or should I say demand? You know how insistent I am once my mind is set. Being dead won’t change that. And since I’m dead, you’ll have to listen to me. Yes, I’m playing the dead card because you won’t like my stipulation.
You’re going to have to lie . . .
I stop reading and refold the paper before tossing it on the nightstand. I push off the bed and grab my running clothes. “I’m doing this for you, Ethan, since I owe you one. But you’re right. As soon as I’m sure she’s good, I’m out of here.”
My stomach tightens at that admission. Cue in the new wave of guilt followed by anger. But this annoyance isn’t derived from my doings for once.
The entire time I knew Ethan, he complained about being trapped. Ironically, he wasn’t talking about the army. He meant his family dynamic. After a long night of him fighting off insurgents while I treated the wounded, I asked him why he chose to be a part of the Ranger Regiment when he had a wife and two children back home. He told me he never asked for that life. Mackenzie had gotten pregnant, and he felt like he had to do the right thing which was to marry her. But he hated that lifestyle. He made me believe she was this awful person.
The asshole.
Or should I say, dumb motherfucker?
How could he say those things about her? Or better yet, why wouldn’t he want to be with her? It makes no sense. From what little I’ve seen, Mackenzie is perfect. Not only is she knockdown gorgeous, but she has a little sass to her despite her shitty circumstances. But he got one thing right—she’s strong.
My feet pound against the pavement. I’m nothing but a hypocrite. Here I stand judging him while it’s me who took him away from her. It’s my fault I left her a widow and those kids fatherless. I need to stay the fuck away and not think about those green eyes boring into my soul. She flashed me a look and I was ready to confess everything I know. But I don’t want to leave before making sure she’s okay. Back in Afghanistan, I swore to protect her and the kids. It’s my duty. My honor. My last tribute to my fallen brother. But I have a feeling Ethan got another thing right about Mackenzie. She’ll definitely push me away if she finds out who I am.
No, there’s no point in upsetting her like that. No good can come of it. I can keep my hormones in check. It won’t be hard. She’s off-limits. I’m too old and too disciplined to fall for her. And my life is all about structure, even before the government had owned my ass.
When I come back from my morning run, I grab a shower. Mackenzie seems to be settling well in Sunnyville. She has a job. Couple that with her military payoff, and her financials should be set. Overall, I’d say she’s in good shape. I’ll be able to pull out of town by evening. Better yet, by mid-afternoon, if the air conditioner part gets delivered. The mechanic should have my truck done today.
But after I get dressed, I don’t pack any of my clothes and toiletries. Instead, I find my feet stepping into Better Buzz. I’ll do one last check on her to test my theory that she’s okay.
Chapter Four
Mackenzie
“Someone’s here to visit their favorite barista,” Jill singsongs in a low hum.
I lift my gaze to the brooding man walking toward the counter. Unwelcome warmth flows through me, coating my insides like hot chocolate on a cold winter’s day. Not that I would know how a cold winter’s day feels. I’ve always wanted to take a skiing trip to the mountains, but Ethan said snow w
as overrated. He experienced enough cold and shitty conditions in the mountains in Afghanistan to have his fill. He promised to take me on vacation to the tropics, but that never panned out. We never went anywhere.
“I’m pretty sure the coffee has more to do with him being here than me,” I mumble, glad that I took extra care in getting ready this morning. Not that I could act upon it, but boy, being noticed sure feels good. It has been years since anyone has noticed me.
“I don’t know. That man doesn’t stare at anyone else as he does you.”
Jill isn’t wrong. As Nate closes the distance, he directs his attention right to me. I ignore the small flip my stomach does as those light brown eyes hold mine captive. They’re striking and unusual. Almost golden like honey.
“Good morning,” I manage to say around my suddenly dry mouth.
“Indeed, it is.” His low baritone voice works through me, and I suppress the grin threatening to form.
“Another tall black coffee?”
The corners of his mouth twitch. “Am I that predictable?”
“I’m not sure. You’re a hard one to figure out.” My words come out a little breathless as we continue our stare-off. Jill has, once again, made herself scarce. We need to have a serious discussion about her disappearing act. How can she help me keep my wits if she’s never around?
“Kenzie, dear. I heard you were working here.”
My gaze pulls to the elderly gentleman who just stepped into the café. I smile at the sight of Mr. Morgan. He’s my late grandfather’s age and always had a soft side for me. When I’d visit his winery with my grandfather, he’d give me extra scoops of their ice cream. I never complained.
SWORN TO PROTECT: An Everyday Heroes World Novel Page 2