SEAL & Veteran Series: The Complete Series

by Leslie North

  Heart thundering in her throat, she stormed through the restaurant and out the front door. Oh God. She kept seeing the surprise, confusion, and pain flashing across his face, but her fear squashed every urge to turn back around and talk things out. He knew her too well and would soon get the truth out of her—which would be disastrous. He could not get involved with Walter. He hadn’t survived God-knew-what only to lose his life to a loan shark’s thugs because of her father’s gambling.

  It took her two tries to get her key to fit into the ignition. Driving aimlessly through the quiet streets of Springwell, her mind whirled and debated itself. Walter had made it very clear he’d do whatever it took to collect her father’s debt. If Chance learned of her circumstance, he’d insist on helping. She couldn’t live with herself if Walter hurt Chance.

  She couldn’t live with herself if anyone was harmed because they’d tried to help her. Especially if that someone happened to be a war hero just home from serving his country. It had nothing to do with any personal feelings for Chance himself, no matter what her racing pulse implied.

  She blamed their insane chemistry. They’d always been combustible but she could not mistake lust for love. The thumping in her heart, sweaty palms, and craving to see him again could all just be nostalgia for what they had, not for what she truly felt now.

  Turning into her driveway, she shut the engine off. After all this time, it’d be crazy to believe she was still in love with Chance McCallister.

  5

  Chance slammed the front door shut and gripped his keys until the edges bit into his palm.

  “You realize you don’t have a curfew, right?” Harris’s voice penetrated the haze coating his mind.

  Chance whipped his head toward the sound and found Harris and Lee lounging in the living room, watching baseball on TV. “What?”

  “It’s eight-twenty.” Harris rolled his eyes and took a sip of his beer. “You’re home way too early.”

  “Mandy shut you down?” Lee asked, sitting forward.

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” Chance barked, fighting the replay of Mandy storming out of the bar. And like a jackass, he’d let her go. Stunned at how quickly she turned on him, he sat there drinking their beers and not tasting the potato skins he steadily shoved in his mouth until he couldn’t take the side glances from the other patrons anymore.

  Lee hoisted himself out of the recliner and smirked. “So that’s a yes.”

  “That’s a ‘don’t push me.’” Chance squared his shoulders, glaring at Lee.

  Lee lazily finished his beer, eyeing Chance the entire time with a smirk, antagonizing him on purpose. “The sexual frustration rolling off you is overwhelming. Women can sense that shit. Maybe Mandy—”

  “Lee,” Harris snapped, rising to his feet.

  Chance growled, his palms screaming at the keys digging deep.

  “I see we’re going to handle this like girls.” Lee plunked the empty bottle onto an end table. “I’m sorry for hurting your feelings by pointing out the obvious. You want a hug?”

  Chance inhaled against the urge to take his frustration out on his youngest brother. Instead of swinging his fist, he marched around the asshole, and stormed into the garage. Moonlight filtered in through the dirty windows lining the top of the garage door, shining on the Mustang. Sleep would not be visiting him for a long while, but he wasn’t sure if he was in the right frame of mind to handle precision parts.

  The door opened behind him and light flooded the space.

  “Ignore Lee,” Harris stated, moving to stand beside Chance. “He’s lashing out. He’s bitter about having to leave the Rangers before he was ready.”

  “I know.” Chance exhaled and shoved the keys into his front jeans pocket. “I get it. I do. I’d probably feel the same way, but that doesn’t mean I won’t beat his ass if he keeps it up.”

  “Maybe it’d be good for him.” Harris shrugged. “Give him an outlet for the anger.”

  Chance snorted. “Something’s got to reach him. I never thought I’d miss the wisecracks and smartass comments, but seeing him in so much obvious misery kills me.”

  Harris eyed Chance, scrutinizing everything. “Lee’s not the only one in obvious misery.”

  Damn it. Chance shifted his weight over his feet. He had hoped to avoid talking about it.

  “All kidding aside,” Harris plunged on, not taking the hint to remain silent. “You’re home really early for things to have gone well.”

  “She marched out of the restaurant ten minutes after we sat down,” Chance admitted. “But not before she took a couple of confusing shots at me.”

  “Shit,” Harris sighed. “I’m sorry.” He turned toward Chance. “No matter what you claimed, Mandy’s always been in your blood. That means any shot from her is going to hit home.”

  Exhaling loudly, Chance slumped. “I thought I could handle it. Seeing her again. Being close to her.” He jammed his hand into his non-military regulation hair he’d been encouraged to grow in the SEALs. “But the second I’m near her, all the old feelings rise. I’m not the same eighteen-year-old kid I was when I left.” He pulled at the ends. “I’m different. Matured, yet she still drives me as crazy as she did back then.”

  “You sorry you came home?”

  “Yes. No.” Chance stared at the raised hood of the Mustang. “Hell, I don’t know. One thing hasn’t changed though.” He glanced at his brother. “She wants nothing to do with me…at least romantically.” He rubbed the sharp pains lancing his heart.

  “Damn.” Harris meant well, but Chance could do without the pity.

  “But then she surprises me by remembering details I only ever mentioned once in passing. What is that?” Chance growled. “I mean, that has to mean something, right? It’s been twelve years. Then there’s the way she looks at me.” An image of her hazel eyes darkening while her lips parted hit him hard. “One minute she’s biting at me, the next, she’s all nostalgic, then it’s like she’s imagining me slamming her against the wall and fucking the hell out of her.”

  “Sounds like you need a road trip to clear your head.”

  Chance blinked, forcing the X-rated fantasy out of his head, and focused on his brother. “Road trip? You planning something?”

  Harris nodded, his shorn reddish-brown hair fuzzing under the light bulbs. “Lee and I were talking about it before you got home.” He shrugged. “I’ve only got twenty-eight of my thirty days bereavement leave left. I need to blow off steam, and I think it might help Lee with his restlessness.”

  “Where?” The idea of hitting the open road with his brothers should have made Chance excited, but it didn’t. It felt like running away. And a SEAL—even a retired one—never ran from a problem.

  “Don’t care where,” Harris responded bluntly. “Maybe west to Las Vegas or north to New York City. Either way, I’d love it if we could take the car.” He pointed at the Mustang. “It’d be like Dad was with us.”

  Chance nodded, clapping his brother’s shoulder. After a respectful pause, he lightened the tension. “Hey, guess who I ran into at the pub?”

  Grief cleared from Harris’s eyes and he cocked his head.

  “Your prom date, Pepper Hammond.”

  “Ahhh, Pepper.” Harris’s face softened and a gleam shone from his sienna-brown eyes. “Beautiful and adventurous in the sack. The things that girl let me—”

  “Nope.” Chance threw a hand up. “I don’t want to hear any more about how she lost her virginity to you or whatever you two did that summer.”

  Harris laughed. “She told you that?” His grin widened. “Good to know I’m memorable.” The gleam in his eyes turned devilish. “I think I need to stop by the pub before we head out.” He motioned to the car. “You’ll need a few days to get this running anyway, right?”

  “Yeah.” Chance sighed. “So glad I can help your sex life.”

  Harris rubbed his hands together. “Me too, but seriously. You should come on the road trip. It’ll be good for you.”<
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  Eyeing the black beast, Chance tried to step back from his emotions and evaluate the merits of Harris’s plan. “You might be right about clearing my head. I’ll think about it.”

  Chance’s footsteps halted in the parking lot of the garage and he hopped to the right, hovering beside an old Jeep Wrangler sitting outside the right-most garage bay. The morning sun baked on his head and broiled the town with its ninety-one-degree temperature.

  “Thanks, Mandy.” Vince accepted a plain white envelope.

  Mandy’s shoulders slumped, but she lifted her chin as if to tough out the words. “I’m sorry for…everything. I wish you luck on the new job.”

  Chance strode forward, feeling sleazy for eavesdropping on her employee obviously quitting.

  “Hey,” Vince called, passing Chance as he kept on walking out the garage door.

  Mandy’s skin flushed when she spotted him and she bit her lip. The moment he stopped a few feet from her, she started in. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have walked out like that—”

  “What happened with Vince?” he cut her off, not really wanting to rehash last night. They obviously weren’t ready to talk about the past and he had no desire to push the topic. Yet.

  The flush deepened. “He, uh, got an offer at the paper mill to keep their machines running.”

  Something about the way her eyes shuttered tripped his alarm bells. “Looks like you have enough business.” He made a show of scanning the lot that curved around the side of the building. “Was it better pay?”

  A flash of anger eclipsed those shutters and she straightened. “Something like that. What brings you in today?”

  Noting she held her breath raised his suspicions. Instincts told him she wasn’t bracing herself for more talk about their history. What did she not want him asking? “The fuel pump I ordered should be in.”

  Pivoting, Mandy marched to the door between the garage and office and held it for him to follow. “I got something delivered a half hour ago. I guess it’s yours.”

  “So,” he ventured, staying hot on her heels until she rounded the counter. Then he moved to the front of the Formica like yesterday. “It sounds like you’re in need of a mechanic.”

  She shot up from her crouch, holding a medium-sized box. “Are you asking to work here?”

  “You don’t have to sound so shocked.” He arched an eyebrow. “Your dad taught me everything I know, and I kept up the skills in the Navy in my downtime.”

  “But,” she sputtered. “You want to work here. With me?”

  “Mandy,” he stated quietly. “We always worked well together.” He let that settle in but when she opened her mouth, looking like she was about to argue, he plowed ahead, “You’d be doing me a favor. I don’t really want to work in security or as a bodyguard. I’d like to establish myself as a mechanic in a civilian garage.”

  Her jaw clicked shut, then another flash of anger flitted across her hazel irises. “I can’t afford to pay someone right now.”

  Chance casually glanced around the office. He’d seen the some of the equipment in the garage. It was showing its age and the building itself appeared slightly run down. She had plenty of business. Almost too much, judging by the waiting cars. Add in the fact the next closest garage with any type of scruples was over an hour away, and all of that should mean she had a steady stream of customers. So where was the money going? Why did he get the impression she could barely make ends meet?

  The jackass crowding her space yesterday, then sitting in his black SUV, flitted through Chance’s mind. Something didn’t add up with that guy. Every instinct Chance owned said the asshole was the root of whatever fear and trouble Mandy tried to hide.

  “Since you’d be doing me a favor by helping me transition to civilian life,” he kept going with his argument instead of starting a new one, “you don’t have to pay me much.” No way was he leaving without securing the position. She may have walked out on him last night, but they had unfinished business. Too much needed to be said. Plus, even though their relationship was in the past for her, he couldn’t just turn off the need to know she was safe. And what he’d seen so far sure as hell didn’t look safe to him. Damned if he was going to let that jackass anywhere near Mandy again. She was scared of him and that was all Chance needed to know. He’d protect her until his dying breath and in the meantime, he’d hopefully find out if he was really still in love with her or just the memory of what they had.

  Chance plucked the industrial razor from the cup holder—in the shape of an engine block—and sliced the box open. “I promise, you aren’t taking advantage of me.” He spread the flaps. “I’m drawing a retirement check from the Navy, so I’m fine accepting whatever you can afford.”

  He could practically see the wheels turning in her mind. Not wanting to push too hard, he lifted the packaging inside and read the specs for the fuel pump. Another reproduction, but with the cost of an original way too high, he’d make this one work.

  “We’re closed on Sundays,” she rattled off in a flat monotone. “Business hours are eight to five, Monday through Saturday, but I’m here by seven A.M.”

  “Fair enough.” Chance tucked the fuel pump under his arm and headed for the door. “See you Monday morning.”

  Chance lifted the house’s garage door open to capitalize on the slight breeze and placed the fuel pump on the quilt lining the Shelby’s fender.

  “You coming with us?” Lee asked as he sauntered in from the kitchen entrance.

  Harris followed behind with bottles of water. “Are we going to be able to take the car?”

  Chance snatched a bottle and chugged it all down before answering. “No and yes.” The hot walk back from the garage sucked but he’d survived worse. “No, I’m not coming and yes, if you can hold off leaving for a few days and lend me a hand, I should have the car running.” Fingers crossed all the low-cost parts did what they advertised and didn’t leave Harris, Lee, and the ghost of their dad on the side of the road.

  “You’re not coming?” Harris paused with his water halfway to his mouth and eyed him with concern. “What happened to clearing your head?”

  “I’ve got a job,” he answered, chucking his empty bottle into the box he used for trash, then bending over the engine to avoid his brothers’ stare. He figured sticking with this reason instead of talking about “girly feelings” would fly better. “You’re looking at the new mechanic for Loomis Automotive.”

  Lee exploded with laughter. “You’re nuts to work for your ex-girlfriend. Especially after you came home last night with a set of balls so blue the shade could be named after you.”

  Truth, not that he’d admit it out loud. “Yeah, well…” Chance loosened the wingnut securing the air cleaner and lifted the large, round metal pan off. “I wouldn’t feel right enjoying the open road when Mandy’s in some kind of trouble.”

  The laughter ceased. He had their attention now.

  “Trouble?” Harris repeated, moving closer. “Is she in danger or something?”

  “I don’t know yet.” Chance began pulling vacuum hoses and lines he’d already labeled last night off the old carburetor. “That’s the problem. She had some creep in her personal space yesterday when I showed up at the garage. She was scared and revolted, but he left when he saw me.”

  Harris and Lee stiffened.

  “She knows how to protect herself.” They met in high school when a bully had her pinned against a wall. Chance pulled him off, and Mandy kicked the bully in the nuts. True love commenced shortly thereafter. “She could have easily fought the jackass off but she didn’t. That tells me he’s some guy she has to placate for some reason.” Chance placed a rag under the fuel line before he disconnected it. He doubted the hose still had gas but he wasn’t risking it. “Then I found the asshole watching the garage from his SUV. When I asked her about it last night, she got really defensive.”

  “Fuck.” Lee plucked the fuel pump box up and studied it as if needing something to occupy his hands. “You want us
to stay and help? I may have problems with how she broke up with you and you now running back for more, but I don’t want to see her hurt.”

  Chance hung his head at a weight squeezing his chest snapping free. In that moment, he knew Lee would be okay. His brother would work through his personal demons and come out the other side. “Thanks, man,” he answered gruffly. “That means a lot.” He snatched a socket wrench up and started on the rusted mounting bolts. “Since I don’t know what’s going on, I can’t say for sure I’m not being paranoid. Your road trip is more important, and I can always call if I need your help.”

  “Damn straight,” Lee grunted, putting the box down. “I’ll order a couple pizzas, then we can all debate which direction is worth seeing on the open road while we work.”

  “Let me change clothes.” Harris started to follow, then pivoted. “Chance.”

  When he didn’t say anything else, Chance peered around the hood, leaning on the fender. “Yeah?”

  “Be careful.”

  “I can take care of myself,” Chance retorted. “I didn’t survive Hell Week and a million missions since without learning a thing or two.”

  Harris nodded, but didn’t smile like Chance expected. “It’s not the physical danger I’m worried about.” His light brown eyes narrowed. “Mandy still has a strong hold on your heart. I’m afraid you’re going to let her rip it out of your chest again. And this time, you’ll watch her do it with your eyes wide open.”

  Chance grunted. Part of him worried the same thing.

  6

  A wall of suffocating heat and country music hit Mandy the second she opened the door between the waiting room and the garage late Friday afternoon. On the old, dinged radio, a female lamented about missed opportunities and heart break. Mandy knew just how—