“How about we go see which of the yanks we will be tormenting? Maybe we can rustle up some action,” I suggested, hoping the change of subject to fighting might keep Kodah from asking me any more questions about my lack of concentration, or worse, the reason for it.
“You gonna get in the ring Webber? Fuck, this must be my lucky day.” Kodah grinned, making a show of rubbing his hands together.
I wasn’t in the class of Ammo when it came to ring fighting, my specialty was more kickboxing, but I could keep my feet planted on the ground and beat on some poor unsuspecting American when needed.
“We still have a few more days here, so might as well get some battles in, mate.”
Walking beside Kodah, we made our way across the baron land of the base to the SEALS team, Kodah stopping abruptly, his hand on my shoulder his usual jovial demeanour serious.
“Don’t think I didn’t notice the change of subject mate, you need to talk then you know where to find me. I might be the jokester of the team, but when a brother needs me, I’m there.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat, my head nodding once. It was on the tip of my tongue to spew out what had happened that night with Addy, but doing that meant I would have to divulge parts of my life, things I had kept so tightly to my chest, I honestly didn’t know if I was capable of sharing. Even with Kodah, the most easy-going member of the team. Kodah didn’t have a judgemental bone in his body; he called a spade a spade and took everyone at face value. He joked his way through life until it was time to get serious, having him at my back with Ammo, Tank and Cole gone meant I didn’t have to worry too much about having outsiders coming in.
SEALS were fucking good soldiers, no doubt. But they weren’t commandos, and they weren’t Australian. And they had some bloody big shoes to fill with three of my guys out.
“I know that mate, how about we go win some money take our minds off everything else, Deck included.” Bastian’s dad was a legend in the commando history books, but he was so much more than that to his family. Ammo might have issues with that history at times, but he worshipped his father. Hell, all of us in the team did. It didn’t bare thought losing such a hero, such a wonderful family man. I wasn’t one to get in the ring like Bastian; I could fight– all of us could hold our own in a fistfight, in fact. Maybe this was what I needed to clear my head, getting in some punches instead of obsessing over Addy’s husky moans, her tight as hell pussy and the biggest worry— that she could be carrying my baby.
***
“You going back to the club, Grill?” Kodah asked me, as the sign for Ballarat came into sight. Three fucking months in Darfur, the last one without three of our team members had not been the best for Team FIVE. What first had been a bore-fest quickly turned into a dangerous mission to Sudan to help the local forces evacuate over a thousand locals in a small village from an attack from a group of rebels hell-bent on reclaiming the land back from the government. With three men down, Kodah, Rafe, Deke and I had been forced to trust a small team of SEALS to have our backs. That had not sat well with me but especially Rafe. We argued that if we couldn’t have Ammo, Gabe and Cole with us, then we would go it alone. Of course, that went down like a lead balloon with our commanding officer, resulting in Rafe getting a fair old dressing down from the major. He was lucky not to find himself with a Division 3 offence. Failure to comply with direction from a commanding officer was not something Rafe needed on his record, nor did he need Gabe finding out. Our captain was a stickler for following orders, and he would not be happy to hear that one of his men refused to follow orders, no matter how good-intentioned the reason had been.
“Yeah, I want to see how Deck is for myself. Ammo’s updates have helped ease my worry, but it will be nice to actually see Deck with my own eyes.”
“Agreed, thank god he pulled through the heart attack. Anything else …” Kodah left the alternative unsaid, no doubt not wanting to jinx Deck’s miraculous recovery. One month after suffering a massive heart attack, Ammo’s last call informed us that Deck was well and truly back on his feet and being hounded to take it easy by his wife and kids.
Turning my head, I looked at Rafe.
“You coming to the compound or taking off?” I asked simply, without any sarcasm or judgement. Rafe was known for being a loner, and he spent most of his downtime … well fuck, I had no idea where he went, he never told us and I, for one, never asked. Rafe wasn’t the easiest guy to talk to, he didn’t do small talk and he never offered up anything personal about himself. Not that we cared, he was a damn fine bloke and an even better soldier, and that was all that counted in my book.
“Yeah, I want to see Deck, head off in the morning,” he answered in his typical fashion. Low voice and not too many words. Short, and to the point.
“You know you got lucky back there, mate, you could have dug a shit hole for yourself talking to the major like that. Not to mention getting the yanks hair up with all the insults you threw at them,” Kodah advised him.
“Fucking frogmen can’t take some constructive criticism, then they shouldn’t be in a war-torn country or expect me to trust them at my back,” Rafe replied with a shrug of his massive shoulders.
“So, calling them useless as tits on a bull was constructive was it, mate?” I asked, laughing at the memory.
“I thought so,” Rafe grunted, then went back to watching out the side window, his way of telling me the conversation was over. For Rafe, it was actually a decent amount of words spoken in one go; I should be impressed. No matter that Rafe didn’t talk much, the man had no fear, he had more loyalty than anyone I knew and he was dependable. Nothing else mattered.
“Fuck Rafe, you gotta work on your people skills,” Kodah laughed, turning the car into the driveway of the Wounded Souls compound. “Anyone who doesn’t know you would think you don’t like people.”
“Good,” Rafe mumbled, scowling at the back of Kodah’s head, but a hint of a smile played at the corner of his mouth, making me laugh. My first proper laugh in three months.
Giving Seb a wave at the gate, Kodah pulled into the car park and shut the engine off.
“Okay, let’s see Deck then debrief Tank, Ammo and Cole. Then we can get shitfaced,” Kodah suggested, throwing off his seatbelt and giving me his signature wide smile. The team’s explosives expert had been uncharacteristically quiet since arriving at Point Cook Air Force Base. Our transport dropped us off less than two hours ago, and we wasted no time getting back to Ballarat to see our team members who left us in Darfur a month ago. In his usual fashion, Gabe kept in constant contact with us, keeping us updated on not only Deck’s recovery but helping us plan our strategies. Even from a different continent, Tank still filled his role as our CO. As our captain and the commanding officer of Team FIVE, Gabe had no restrictions, though we all enjoyed a certain amount of leniency when it came to protocol and rules. Simply put, what we did on the battlefield, earned us that right.
“Since when do you get shitfaced?” Deke asked, getting out of the Jeep, nodding at Seb.
“Since we just spent three boring as fuck months in a country we had no right being in,” Kodah reasoned, falling into step with me. Kodah wasn’t wrong, some deployments didn’t make a lick of sense to me, and others gave me a sense of pride that we could help people gain control of their own lives and way of life. Not that my personal opinion counted for anything, we went where the brass sent us, not much more to say.
Reaching out, I slapped Kodah on the back.
“Fucking over now, mate, let’s brief Tank, then go find a cold beer,” I suggested, doing my best to add some pep into my voice. Maybe a beer or ten might help keep Addy from my mind for a little longer. But the clock was ticking, and three months away meant I could have already missed out on three months’ worth of her possible pregnancy.
A pregnancy I had no idea was even a reality yet because I had no goddamned idea who the stunning brunette was that shook the core of my world.
CHAPTER TWO
ADELINE
“Doctor Welham, your next patient is ready for you in examination room two,” my nurse and receptionist called out to me. The overwhelming desire to run and hide reared for a few seconds, but I quickly tamped it down. My day at the clinic was only halfway through, and I had at least another five hours and at least twice that number of patients to see before I could finally crawl into my bed.
Pushing myself out of the uncomfortable chair in the break room, I plastered a smile on my face.
“Thank you, Olivia, be there in a minute,” I called back, injecting some enthusiasm into my voice.
Hide your true feelings and don’t show weakness.
I silently repeated my life mantra, the advice given to me by the one person who had cared about me when I was growing up. That advice got me through seven foster homes and pushed me through university and eventually why I had a thriving clinic. I did all that on my own, with no help from anyone other than me.
“And I can do this on my own too,” I whispered, lovingly stroking my hand over my lower belly. I was still in shock that the most erotic, intimate night of my life resulted in a surprise pregnancy— surprising but very welcomed.
“Mumma loves you little Sproggo, never doubt that,” I said firmly, using the nickname I called my little bean of love, meaning every single word. This baby may not have been planned or conceived out of love, much like I had been for my parents. But he or she was loved and cherished and very much wanted by at least one parent.
A tremor travelled down into the pit of my stomach, the same hum of desire that enveloped me every time I thought of that night three months ago. The one night, I opened myself to a man and let him in, as much as I was capable of doing. For the first time in my life, I allowed myself to believe that I was allowed to have something so … special and amazing. For one night, I let Marshall see the real me, and took what he offered.
Companionship, intimacy, and pure ecstasy.
At least just for one night, then I had to go ruin it by waking up the next morning in a panic. In typical me fashion, my defences took over and I convinced myself I didn’t need anyone to make me feel. Feeling only resulted in hurt, pain and rejection– in my book it always had.
Being alone was what I did best; I excelled at living a solitary life— never letting a person too close. I kept my sexual experiences to one-night stands, not that I was a floozy or anything; my dalliances added up to no more than five. Marshall being the first in quite a few years. I opted to concentrate on getting my practice up and running, paying back the business loan I’d secured, again all on my own.
Maybe that was why I jumped feet first into bed with the ruggedly, sexy soldier, showing him a side of me no other person ever got to see. And why I ran out on him at four in the morning, panicked and completely overwhelmed at the rush of emotions Marshall pulled from me.
“Addy! Peter is waiting for you!” Jo shouted again, this time banging on the door, startling me out of my silly mind wandering. Nothing good came from wishing for things that weren’t possible. God knew I learned that at a very young age.
“Coming!” Setting the chair back in its place neatly under the table, I strode to the door.
Five more hours then sleep.
***
“Kelsey, how many rabbits have you had named Peter now?” I asked the sweet redhead, doing my best not to smile as I examined the large, grey rabbit.
Kelsey Johnston was one of my favourite clients, her obsession with rabbits one of her many quirks, not to mention she had so many rabbits, she kept me busy with appointments.
“I lost count at fifteen. Jason finds it hilarious that I can’t bring myself to use a different name every time I lose a Peter,” Kelsey huffed, looking over at her I caught her eye roll but also saw the gentle, loving smile on her face as she spoke of the husband I’d yet to meet.
From what Kelsey told me during our many clinic appointments, her husband was a detective in town, and surprisingly a member of the local motorcycle club, the Wounded Souls. Everyone in Ballarat was very aware of the law-abiding club, and their generosity, myself included. Not long ago, Gippsland, in far east Victoria, found itself in the grip of multiple ferocious bushfires. Disastrous wasn’t even close to describing the vicious wave of fires that decimated and devastated towns, homes, and most heartbreaking of all to me, at least, the loss of wildlife and farm animals.
The night I met Marshall I had spent more than six days, volunteering my skills as a vet to treat dozens and dozens of koalas, kangaroos, and an array of other beautiful wildlife creatures, all with various degrees of burns. Some lucky and some not, the ones I lost during those long emotional days were the ones that stayed with me more than the ones I’d saved.
I loved animals; they didn’t have a voice to tell where their pain was; they depended on the kindness of humans to help them. The same kindness the MC showed by donating money for supplies to treat the bushfire-ravaged animals, donations I would be forever grateful.
“Well, I don’t think you are going to lose this Peter any time soon. He is healthy, if not a tad overweight,” I scolded her with a mock scowl. “I thought you understood the last time I told you about feeding him more than twice a day.”
Kelsey shuffled her feet, her face going as red as the hair on her head.
“I did listen!” she insisted, her voice taking on a high pitch.
Swinging the stethoscope around my neck, I stayed silent and waited for Kelsey to fess up.
“Fine,” she huffed, “I do feed him only twice a day, just two bigger meals.”
“Kelsey,” I drawled, shaking my head at the kind, sweet lady.
“I know, but how can I resist those big gorgeous eyes? He even squeezes out tears.”
I could feel my eyebrows hit my hairline; seriously, the rabbit cries? I highly doubted that, but who was I to shatter someone’s dreams. Just because mine never came true didn’t mean I could rain on someone else’s parade. Except when it came to the health of an animal. Kelsey was going to have to learn to be cruel to be kind if she didn’t want to replace yet another Peter.
“Honey, I know he is cute, and while I seriously doubt the rabbit cries, the way to an animal’s heart is not through its stomach.” I did my best to sound like the professional veterinarian, but Kelsey made it hard with the way she was stroking Peter and gazing at him with hero worship.
“I know, I know, I know. Trust me, Jason reminds me every time I go to feed him. I just can’t resist this cute face,” Kelsey pouted, picking up Peter, holding him close to her face nuzzling her nose in the soft fur.
Without warning, a wave of nausea rose in my throat, a wash of black spots danced in front of my eyes.
Oh, dear God, not now, please, not now. No one knew of my impending motherhood, not even Olivia. I had no family to tell, no real friends to share my joyful news with anyway. It was just me.
Pasting a smile on my face, I covertly grabbed the edge of the examination table, doing my best to steady myself without bringing attention to the fact I was on the verge of throwing up. I needed to get Kelsey out of the room as quickly as possible before I completely embarrassed myself.
“So, it looks like Peter is doing well despite the extra weight he is carrying.” Keeping my tone light and friendly, I pushed away from the table, taking only small steps. The dizziness was starting to subside, but the need to vomit was still very present.
Reaching the door, I opened it wide and looked back at Kelsey.
“It was great seeing you again, Kels, and we should catch up for coffee one day soon, yeah?” At the mention of coffee, my stomach rolled. My favourite drink in the whole world was now my mortal enemy. Even decaf didn’t make the grade; little Sproggo didn’t like it or a multitude of my favourite snacks and treats.
“Are you trying to get rid of me, Addy?” Kelsey asked, her perfectly shaped eyebrows pulling together into a frown.
Yes, so please go so I can empty the contents of my stomach in privacy.
“N
o, of course not. I just have a full patient list still waiting,” I replied, feigning shock that she would suggest such a thing.
Kelsey pursed her lips, narrowed her eyes and watched me for twenty very uncomfortable seconds before she slowly nodded her head.
“I suppose I should be going anyway, there is a small party at the club tonight. The rest of my nephew’s teammates are back from deployment today. They got split up after Gabe, Bastian and Cole came home when Deck suffered his heart attack.”
“Oh, Deck is your brother-in-law, right? I heard around town that he is recovering well.”
“Yeah, he and Jason are twins, different as night and day mind you. They are at each other’s throats most of the time, but underneath all the tough talk, they care very deeply for one another … now,” Kelsey finished with an amused chuckle.
Kelsey’s little titbits of life at the club normally intrigued me, at this very moment, not so much. Bile rose in my throat and I knew I had less than thirty seconds before my stomach revolted and outed me.
“Okie dokie, see ya, Kelsey, bye, Peter, see ya both next time,” I rushed as I pushed Kelsey out of the door, just barely waiting for her to get through before slamming it and bolting for the clean-up sink and heaving into it.
“Arrghh, Sproggo take it easy on poor mum,” I groaned, leaning my forehead against the cool stainless steel sink. This morning sickness was really taking its toll on me, and with the sickness came tiredness. Body-aching tiredness. If these three months were any indication of how my pregnancy was going to be, I shuddered to think about how I was going to continue working the long hours I forced myself to do.
My practice was my life’s ambition; seeing it grow from strength to strength from my hard work was my crowning glory. Every ounce of pain, sweat and tears all worth it. The seven years at university to become a vet, and the five since, including building my clinic, all done because I pushed myself. Student loans, part-time jobs, partial scholarships, all of it hard work, and not one hand out.
Grill (The Wounded Sons Book 3) Page 2
