Keegan (Wounded Hero Book 1)

by Marysol James

  “You – you think you’re not a whole man?”

  “I know I’m a whole man, darlin’,” Keegan growled. “But the problem ain’t me – it’s women who think that just ‘cause I’m missin’ a leg, I can’t be sexy and I can’t satisfy them. And to be honest, lots of women find it a turn-off. They can’t even imagine gettin’ naked with a man like me.”

  **

  They can’t even imagine getin’ naked with a man like me.

  Trish stared down at her plate as Keegan’s words echoed in her mind, over and over. Her heart ached for him – actually ached – as she realized how true Kelly’s words had been that morning in her office, how Keegan had been rejected over and over by women because of something that he had no control over. He’d lost his leg when he’d been off doing his duty, off saving kids and protecting lives – and it was so goddamn unfair that he was being judged and suffering because of what had happened.

  She understood a thing or two about being forced to pay a price over and over again, on something that you had no real say about. OK sure, both she and Keegan had chosen to be where they’d been; they’d both known about some risks and possible outcomes… but that didn’t mean that they had to keep getting punished.

  That was utter bullshit.

  He was sitting there now, so gorgeous and huge in a black t-shirt that picked up his dark hair, made his silver eyes even brighter in that hard, handsome face. The tattoos that ran the length of his muscular arms were beautiful little works of art: they looked like symbols and foreign languages, some dates maybe, some that probably meant family. He was such a good man, such a good sweet man, a man who’d fought to rebuild a shattered life and body. Yes, he had a darkness to him, rough edges and rougher language, but she didn’t care. All Trish saw was his good, shining, brave heart; all she saw was a wounded hero.

  She took a deep breath, lowered her eyes, then said:

  “I can. I can imagine it.”

  She looked up again and almost melted into a puddle, because the man was staring at her with an intensity that she’d never, ever known. And just like that, Keegan had shed his polite, civil skin – and was now letting his hungry wolf side out, the one that was happiest hunting in the moonlight.

  He leaned back slowly, holding her eyes the whole time, then he looked at her. He just looked at her and Trish actually felt breathless. He just stripped her naked where she sat – right down to her damn soul – and although she’d spent years being totally naked in front of the world, she’d never felt so seen.

  This was Keegan’s gift to her, she suddenly understood; this was why she’d hoped so hard that Kelly would pass on her number. It was because Keegan looked past her face and body, past her blondness and breasts – and he liked what he saw. He found her attractive.

  Her.

  Trish didn’t know the last time that a man had found her inner world of thought and feelings and experiences beautiful. Maybe never.

  And she found him gorgeous, too, inside and outside. She saw him too.

  “Is that so, darlin’?” he asked, his voice low and just dripping with honeyed want. Oh, he’d satisfy her, she just knew it and she wondered just what all those other women had been thinking and seeing when they’d looked at this man, because Keegan was not the type to ignore a woman’s needs. Not when she required help in a parking lot, not serving her in his café – and sure as hell not in his bed. “You can imagine it?”

  “Yes,” she said, her throat constricted with desire. “Very clearly.”

  Those silver eyes flared and Trish was instantly – hopelessly, helplessly – wet. Another first, being so completely turned on by a man who hadn’t even touched her.

  “Well,” he said deliberately. “The imaginin’ is mutual, Trish.”

  She swallowed hard, needing to ask something and thinking that this might be the best moment. “Keegan?”

  “Yes, darlin’?”

  “Why did you call me and give me another chance? After all your disappointments?”

  He gave her that smile, that slow one that made her want to kiss it right off those amazing lips.

  “Truth now?” he asked.

  “Truth.”

  “Because you’re amazin’,” he said simply. “I saw you at the weddin’ and you stopped me dead in my tracks ‘cause you’re so damn beautiful. That was enough reason to ask you out, enough reason to be a bit upset that you turned me down, but it ain’t anythin’ like the real reason that I wanted to see you again.”

  “No?”

  “Nuh-uh. I wanted to see you again ‘cause first, I believe you when you say that somethin’ came up and you panicked and lost the plot a bit. Kelly believes you too and to tell you the truth, I respect what she says about people. Second, I think that you’re honest with me. I liked what you said about havin’ things in your past that you ain’t told me yet because everyone does, and most people act like they don’t. They act like they’re an open book from the word go, but you’ve been honest about keepin’ stuff to yourself.”

  Trish dropped her eyes, hating that she’d have to tell him about her past if she and Keegan carried on into the future.

  But not now. Not yet. Not tonight.

  “Trish,” he said gently. “Look at me, sugar.”

  Startled at this new endearment, liking it so damn much that it took her aback, she did as he said.

  “I want to know those things, whatever they are,” he said. “I want to know all of them. I want to know you. I like that you’re a gorgeous purple-eyed creature with an ass that won’t quit, don’t get me wrong – but all I see when I look at you is a tough woman fightin’ to start somethin’ good and fresh and pure.”

  She blinked, astonished at just how much he saw and understood.

  “I know that I ain’t the one buildin’ your life and takin’ your journey away from wherever you come from. That’s all you, sugar. But I’d be honored to walk next to you as you build and travel.” He grinned at her. “Hold your hand sometimes too, maybe.”

  Slowly, watching his eyes, Trish reached across the table, past the dishes and pastries and cutlery… and took his hand. He closed her small hand in his large one, raised it to his cheek, his eyes nailed to hers. His skin under her palm was warm, rough, amazing. Then he did something so damn sweet, so perfectly Keegan somehow, that Trish almost crumbled to pieces in her chair.

  Keegan turned his face into her palm, dropped the tiniest, softest kiss onto it. Her flesh tingled where his lips touched it and Trish bit her lip, fighting to stay in her spot when all she wanted to do was fling herself at him.

  He turned to look at her again, still pressing her hand to his face. “So I guess that’s a yes, huh?”

  “Yes?” she stammered, clueless. “Yes to what?”

  “To hand holdin’.”

  Absolutely astounded at this man, Trish burst into laughter and he joined her. God, how could she feel so comfortable with someone so quickly? He was funny, smart and drop-dead hot – and she liked him. She just liked him.

  “It’s a yes,” she said between giggles. “Absolutely yes.”

  “OK, good.” He moved their joined hands back to the table but didn’t let hers go. “So maybe I can ask you somethin’ else that will hopefully give me another enthusiastic yes.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You wanna go on a real date next weekend? Saturday night?”

  “This isn’t a real date?” she asked pertly. “Oh, dear. Meredith will be beside herself.”

  “Smart ass,” he rejoined. “I mean a date where we get all dressed up, and with dinner and nice wine and candles. And dancin’.”

  “Dancing?”

  “Yeah. You like dancin’?”

  “I love it.”

  “OK, so…” He ran his thumb over the back of her hand and goosebumps came up all over her skin. “What do you think?”

  “So, I think – yes.”

  “Yes?”

  “Hell, yes.” Trish didn’t remember the last
time that she felt so happy. “Take me dancing, Keegan.”

  Chapter 9

  Six days later; Saturday evening

  “Oh, Trish. You look stunning.”

  Trish stood in the entrance of the living room, nervous as all hell but smiling at Meredith and Nora. The older women were sitting watching an action movie, having a glass of sweet wine and staring at her in open amazement.

  “I do?” she asked, looking down at her clinging purple wrap-dress and sleek high heels. “It’s not too much?”

  “Too much?” Nora shook her head. “Honey, it’s exactly just right.”

  “Classy and sassy,” Meredith declared. “Very you, Trish.”

  “Thanks,” she murmured, feeling oddly abashed and shy. Strange emotions for a woman who used to take her clothes off and have sex in front of a camera – but there it was. It’s how she felt. “I hope he thinks so too.”

  “If he’s a flesh-and-blood man, he will.” Meredith glanced at the wall clock. “Shouldn’t you be going? Aren’t you meeting him at seven?”

  “Oh, no. Plans changed a bit.” Trish gave the ladies a big smile, already knowing what their reactions were going to be. “Keegan’s picking me up here in about –” She made a big show of looking at her cell clock. “Six minutes.”

  The women stared at her in utter horror, then looked down at themselves: they were both in baggy blouses, comfy pants and slippers. Nora even had a hairnet on and she whipped it off in a clear panic.

  “What!” Meredith yelped, the first truly unladylike thing that Trish had seen her do. “A man is coming here?”

  “Uh-huh. Quite a handsome one, too.” Trish smoothed her glossy hair down calmly as Nora fussed with hers. “Did you want to say hello?”

  “My stars!” Meredith wailed. “Not like this! A lady is always dressed for a man when he comes to her home!”

  Trish let them stare at her and each other and themselves in shock for a few more seconds, then she put them out of their panicked misery:

  “Do you honestly think that I’d do that to you?” Trish asked them. “I know how you feel about this kind of thing.”

  “So – so he’s not picking you up?” Nora said, pausing the flurried movements of her hands. “He’s not coming here?”

  “Oh, he is. Just in an hour.” Trish gave them a wicked grin. “I figured that you’d want to get changed, brush your hair, put on a bit of lipstick…”

  Both older women heaved sighs of relief, then shot Trish looks.

  “Not even slightly funny!” Meredith declared, getting to her feet slowly. “Now, help me get dressed for this young man.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Trish said smartly, helping her walk down to her room as Nora shot off to the room that she slept in when she stayed overnight, and where she kept her things when she wasn’t working. “Right away.”

  “Don’t you ‘ma’am’ me, young lady,” Meredith said with dignity. “I have half a mind to make you put me in my girdle for that scare.”

  Trish giggled as she selected a few dresses for Meredith to choose from. “Pulling out all the stops for Keegan, huh?”

  Meredith sniffed as she examined her shoes. “Nothing wrong with looking nice for a guest.”

  Trish just smiled; she knew that the ladies were beyond excited about meeting a former soldier, a man who’d sacrificed and lost so much for his country, a local business owner who made the best sweet and fluffy things that they’d ever tasted.

  Oh – and who was kind of dating Trish. That part interested them too. Not as much as the cakes and cookies, it had to be said, but a damn close second.

  **

  Almost an hour later, there was a polite knock at the door. Meredith and Nora sat up straighter in their chairs as Trish went to the front door to answer. She took a quick look at herself in the mirror in the sprawling foyer, fixed her hair for the seventieth time and gave herself a smile.

  “This is going to be fun,” she whispered to her own reflection. “Relax. He’s a nice guy.”

  She opened the door and there he stood: tall and broad, dark-haired and silver-eyed, pure gorgeousness and sheer danger. Everything that she could imagine; more than she ever thought she’d get the chance to get to know, to talk to, to touch.

  “Hi sugar,” he said in that voice, the one that made her all weak-kneed and melting on the spot as he gave her that look, the one that had the exact same damn physical effect on her. “You look absolutely stunning.”

  “So do you,” she blurted out because he did: he was in jeans that accentuated his long legs and showcased what she now knew was an impressive bulge between his thighs, and a crisp black dress shirt that did all kinds of amazing things for his eyes. “I mean – thank you.”

  He grinned at her, a lazy, sunny grin and she found herself smiling back.

  It’s going to be fine, Trish. Calm down now.

  “Ummm,” she said. “Did you want to come in a for minute? I just have to grab my purse.”

  “Sure,” he said easily, stepped into the house. He looked around, took in the expensive paintings hanging on the walls, the graceful antique furniture, the real flowers in cut-glass vases. “Meredith has a beautiful home.”

  “Actually.” Trish cleared her throat. “She’d like to meet you. Is that – is that OK?”

  “‘Course it is.” Keegan followed her down the hall. “I’d love to say hi.”

  They entered the living room and Trish secretly smiled as she recalled the scene just one short hour ago and compared it to what was in front of them now.

  An hour ago, the ladies had been rocking a way-relaxed look as they spent a Saturday night in comfort. They’d had nothing more exciting to look forward to than a quick glimpse of Jason Statham’s pecs and ink. Now, they got a glimpse of Keegan’s – and they were doing it while dressed impeccably, with their hair done, with a slick of makeup and a spritz of perfume.

  They were elegant and lovely, but not overly so. Not so much that they looked ridiculous, or like they were trying to out-dress Keegan.

  No, they looked respectful. Like they wanted him to know that they’d made an effort for him.

  “Meredith, Nora,” Trish said. “This is Keegan Sinclair. Keegan, Meredith Carmichael and Nora Gomez.”

  “Mr. Sinclair.” Meredith stayed seated and extended her right hand. “A pleasure.”

  “Ma’am.” Keegan raised her hand to his lips and brushed them against her delicate skin. “Pleasure’s all mine.”

  “Thank you for the treats that you sent home with Trish. They were wonderful.”

  “No trouble.” He turned to Nora now and despite the fact that she was, technically, a night nurse and so Meredith’s ‘inferior’, he kissed her hand too. “How you doin’ tonight, Nora?”

  “Good, thank you,” Nora said, her black eyes sparkling at his gallantry. “How are you?”

  “Well,” he said in that rough-as-gravel voice. “I’m surrounded by gorgeous women, so how bad can my night be goin’?”

  They laughed and fluttered their eyelashes a bit – not an obscene amount, still very ladylike – and Trish relaxed. She knew that Meredith was what people would call ‘old money’ and with that came lots of attributes: conservatism, decorum, quiet breeding, sherry-drinking and dressing for a man’s visit. She was eye-wateringly wealthy and educated and intelligent, but Trish had never seen her treat anyone badly – Meredith was rich as hell but she wasn’t a snob, and God knows that Nora wasn’t.

  Still, though… Keegan was – well. He was rough. In speech, in appearance, in background, in lack of education, in the way that he moved. There was nothing refined or restrained about him, nothing that brought to mind country manors and horseback riding and dressing for afternoon tea. Trish had been sure that the ladies wouldn’t be rude, but she’d wondered briefly if they’d be uncomfortable around a man of a type that they rarely saw, let alone interacted with.

  She shouldn’t have bothered worrying, clearly.

  The secret was, she understood now,
that Keegan was so comfortable and peace with who he was and where he came from, with how he lived and moved through the world, that he didn’t care what people thought about him. He probably mentally shrugged and figured they’ll take me or leave me. He was unfailingly polite and humble, but she knew that he was a proud man, a man who didn’t allow himself to be pushed around or disrespected. And he didn’t permit the people that he cared about to be treated that way, either.

  She could only imagine what Keegan would be like if someone tried to hurt Kelly or Janie. He’d be a man unleashed: the rage would be towering, the kind that ripped trees out by their roots and brought fire raining down from the heavens.

  But here and now with two older women, he was nothing but attentive and sweet. Almost courtly. It made Trish like him even more, if truth be told. Yeah, she liked the growling Keegan with the flashing eyes and tattoos, but this kinder, gentler Keegan was pretty damn amazing too.

  “So what are you ladies doin’ tonight?” He looked at them in frank and open admiration. “Goin’ out on the town?”

  They laughed and shook their heads.

  “Just staying in,” Meredith said. “Maybe a sherry and a few of your cookies, Mr. Sinclair.”

  “Keegan, please. And I brought you somethin’, Mrs. Carmichael.” He produced a paper bag from the inside pocket of his leather jacket with a flourish, offered it to Meredith. “I thought maybe you were runnin’ low. Trish says you ladies have been eatin’ what she brought back from our coffee date, and I figured you’d want some fresh soon, anyway.”

  “Call me Meredith, please.” She took the bag with delight, peered inside and gave a tiny sniff. “Oh! Mint chocolate chip cookies?”

  “Your favorite, I do believe.” He gave Trish a wink that just about took her legs out from under her with its sexy adorableness. “I heard somethin’ about that somewhere.”

  “I’m – well. I’m very touched at your thoughtfulness. Thank you.”

  “You’re very welcome.” He regarded Nora, then gave her a grin. “You thinkin’ that I forgot you?”