Next Door Knight
Page 4
“No, she’s still here. In fact, we should be going to veterans’ center so she can work, but we won’t now.”
Kerry was going to the veterans’ center? He’d been asked to visit that place during his medical leave. So far, he’d avoided it like the plague. He had his own shit to sort out; he would be of no use to anyone down there. The universe was clearly trying to tell him something, though. Why else in the space of twenty-four hours would he see Ethan’s future father-in-law, a military vet himself, and have a dog turn up twice on his property when he’d been avoiding dogs as best he could?
“Why aren’t you going?” he asked. Did he really want to know?
“It’s nothing that concerns you. I’ll get it sorted out.”
Her voice was harried. Now he knew why her father was calling. “You can’t get anyone to look after Ron, can you?”
He heard her sharp intake of breath. He’d hit the nail on the head. “Why do you say that?”
“You forget, I overheard your side of your phone conversation while you were in the yard.”
“Fine, you’re right. The other agency in Dad’s insurance network doesn’t have anyone available to care for him. But it’s not an issue—I’ll sort it out. And it really isn’t your problem, Caleb. Again, I’m sorry Dad disturbed you.”
“Ask him.” Caleb made out the words spoken from the background.
“No, Dad, I’m not going to. We will work it out.” Kerry didn’t try hard to muffle her voice. Her determination not to bother him was admirable, but it was too late. He was aware of the situation, and even though he’d like nothing better than to disconnect the call and get on with his life, he couldn’t walk away. For almost twenty years, he’d put service above himself. It was time he remembered that.
“How long will you be gone?” he asked.
“What?”
“How long will you be at the center?”
“Why do you want to know?”
He sighed and took a deep breath. “Because I’m here, and you need help.”
“Wait a second. Are you offering to come and sit with Dad?”
“Yes.” Even saying the word surprised the hell out of him. He’d done his level best to avoid people over the last couple of months, an easy feat with dumping Amy and Ethan on deployment and no longer living in the house. “Don’t worry about getting someone from an agency to look after your dad. I’ll do it until he’s in a position to look after himself.” And that was an even bigger accomplishment.
“Bu-but, I-I. Why?”
Yeah, that was a good question, and he didn’t quite know the answer to it either. “It seems to me that whatever you’re doing with Willow is important, not to mention your job, too. If I can help you worry about one less thing, then let me do it.”
“I don’t know what to say. I can’t impose. It wouldn’t be fair.”
“Just say yes, Kerry. I’m okay doing this for you.”
“If you’re sure.”
“I am.”
“Well, then, yes, thank you, Caleb. I appreciate the offer. I know Dad will be happy to spend time with you again. He enjoyed your company last night.”
He ignored the last bit. It was easier than admitting to himself he’d felt the same way talking to Ron and Eric. But last night was an anomaly. “I can be there in fifteen minutes. Will that work?”
“That’s perfect. Thank you.”
Caleb disconnected the call before he said something else out of character. Who was this person, and would the real Caleb Bradshaw please stand up?
Not true. This is you—you just forgot about it for a little while.
Caleb ignored the voice and the truth ringing in every word. He wasn’t that person anymore. He could do this small favor and then, once Ron was up and about, he’d walk away and retreat back to his bubble. The one where nothing hurt.
Chapter Five
A week later, Kerry stood to the side of the communal room at the veterans’ center and watched Willow do her stuff. At the moment, she was sitting on a couch next to a man while he played chess. The man’s hand was clutching the scuff of her neck, his leg moving up and down in vigorous movements. Sensing his agitation, Willow lifted her head and laid it down on the leg, stilling the movements immediately. His hand loosened the grip on her short brown-and-white fur and began to stroke. Even from her vantage point, she could see the tension drain out of him with every stroke down Willow’s back.
“Well, hello there, Kerry. I forgot you were going to be here today. How’s Ron?”
Kerry straightened and glanced over at the man standing next to her. “Hey, Eric, Dad’s good. Thanks for coming over last week. He really enjoyed your company.”
Eric waved at a group of men of varying ages clustered around a table, playing poker. “I enjoyed it too. I was surprised to see Caleb there. Ethan couldn’t believe it either. He said it has been an effort to get Caleb to leave the house ever since his accident. The only time Caleb left the house was to go to and from rehab or if Ethan’s friends had get-togethers.”
Spindles of curiosity popped up inside of her, but she pushed them aside. What happened to Caleb was his business, and if he, at some stage in the future, wanted to tell her, then she would listen. In her mind, it would be a betrayal to question Eric about the man who was doing her a favor. “I’m extremely grateful for him helping me when he didn’t know me. And he’s still helping me.”
“What do you mean?” asked Eric.
“Caleb offered to look after Dad until he was more mobile. From what Dad’s been saying, they’ve been having a good time.”
Eric’s mouth hung open. “Caleb’s helping your dad?”
“Yes. Over the last week he’s taken him out or stayed at the house with him when I’ve been working at the restaurant or here with Willow.”
“Caleb should come here. It would do him good,” Eric murmured.
Whether that was true or not, it wasn’t up to her to make Caleb do anything. The man could deal with his problems without her interference. Whenever she and Willow came home, her dog would waddle over to where Caleb was sitting and flop down on the ground, her snout resting on his shoes. And every single time, Caleb tensed and moved his feet away. Or stood abruptly and declared he needed to get home. It was clear he didn’t need or want help.
“Why do you think Caleb needs to be here?” she asked Eric, against her better judgment.
“When you’re in the service, you see and experience things the everyday citizen doesn’t.” He paused and canted his head toward Willow. “PTSD is insidious, and the more we talk about it, the more we can help the people suffering. You and Willow being here helps the guys acclimatize back into civilian life.”
Kerry’s mind churned, trying to pick out the underlying message Eric was attempting to give her. If he was suggesting Caleb had some PTSD issues and she could help, he had another thing coming. Dealing with someone displaying signs of PTSD was above her pay grade. Heck, how many times had she got frustrated with her dad and had to count to fifteen before answering him?
Nope, Caleb was better off seeking help from someone other than her. “You can’t make someone do something they don’t want to,” she said finally.
Eric smiled and patted her on the hand. “You’re right, but you can encourage.”
“Eric, are you planning on standing there all day flirting, or are you gonna come play cards?” an older gentleman yelled at them and Kerry rolled her eyes at his comment.
“Shut up, Derek, I’ll be right over.” Eric looked back at her. “Think about what I said. I think you have more influence than you give yourself credit for.”
He joined the men, slapping a couple on the back before taking a seat. Kerry had yet to meet his daughter and Ethan. Eric and her dad had met on a hunting trip, before her dad decided to try skiing. He was definitely making the most of his retirement. Although he probably hadn’t planned on breaking his legs and curtailing his sense of adventure for a while.
She glanced
at her watch; it was time to collect Willow. This was always the tough part of her visit. Willow never seemed to want to leave her friends, and they didn’t want her to go either. But as in all therapy situations, Willow’s presence was part of their journey to recovery. Nine times out of ten, most of the guys ended up getting their own dogs after a few months, usually rescue dogs from the local shelter. It warmed her heart knowing that two lost souls had found a home with each other.
Eric’s words about encouraging Caleb floated through her mind. Perhaps she would invite Caleb to come on a visit with her when Dad could be left alone again—maybe.
*
The second Kerry opened the door, Willow scampered through the gap, her furry butt wiggling from side to side as she raced toward the front room. Kerry smiled. Corgis had attitude, and Willow had it in spades.
Setting her keys on the hook by the door, she wandered into the kitchen and headed for the fridge. The previous evening, the desserts chef at the restaurant had given her a piece of chocolate cake. She’d hidden it in the back so her dad wouldn’t find it. Not that he could have inspected the contents of the fridge—he was still laid up.
She’d been craving the delicious-looking cake the whole trip home. Leaning in, she moved a couple of take-out containers and a package of lettuce before she spied the white box.
“Ah-ha, there you are. Come to me, my pretty.”
She slammed the fridge shut and looked up, almost dropping the cake at the sight of Caleb leaning nonchalantly against the doorframe. His arms crossed over his impressive chest. The sky-blue T-shirt he wore contrasted nicely against his shaggy brown hair. His lips were quirked in a half smile.
“Umm, hi, Caleb. I didn’t hear you come in.”
He pulled himself away from the door and took two steps into the kitchen. “I’m not surprised. Your concentration was elsewhere.” He nodded toward the white pastry box in her hand. “What ya got there?”
She held it up. “This? It’s nothing.”
He closed the distance between them. “Is that right? If it’s nothing then you won’t mind showing me, will you?”
“You won’t like it,” she said holding the box close. When it came to cake, especially chocolate cake, she was very possessive.
“How do you know?” he challenged.
Invisible sparks of attraction flared like solar bursts. Her heart picked up speed to beat uncontrollably against her chest. “You don’t seem the type to like sweet things.”
“You’d be surprised. What is it? Cheesecake? Brownie?”
“Nope. And nope.”
He leaned a little closer his citrus scent assailed her nostrils and her eyes drifted shut.
Mmmm, orange chocolate cake. Now that would be delicious.
She sucked in a breath and opened her eyes, keeping them focused firmly on the middle of his chest. Which was a bad idea, because images of him without his shirt had been a constant in her dreams.
Okay, stop. Remember, you’re not doing this.
Yeah, her subconscious had a mind of its own. What she needed to remember was in another week or so, Caleb would go back to his own life and she’d continue on with hers. Nothing more and nothing less.
Right now, her life was all about her. No one else. She was doing her own thing. She didn’t need a man to prop her up anymore.
“Is it chocolate cake? Yeah, I bet it is.” The words floated against her cheek and in that second he sounded like Joey from Friends saying how you doing?
Was Caleb flirting with her?
Now she was imagining things, wasn’t she?
Kerry looked up from her study of his chest and their gazes connected. His brown eyes were warmer than a hot chocolate on a cold winter’s day. In slow motion, his hand landed on her shoulder, the touch generated a smoldering fire inside of her, just waiting for the fuel to make it a roaring blaze.
“Is it, Kerry?”
She swallowed hard. “Is it what?”
He tapped the white box with his free hand. “Chocolate cake.”
Her tongue darted out and moisten her dry lips. His own tongue repeated her action. “Yes.” The word whispered out of her.
An invisible lasso had banded around them and, as if the invisible cowboy that looped it pulled to tighten the rope, she swayed toward him and went up on tiptoe as Caleb lowered his head.
Oh my God, he’s going to kiss me.
The thought ricocheted around her mind like a Mexican jumping bean. As their lips were about to meld, a crash echoed around the house, followed by cursing and Willow barking.
Kerry sprang away, her breath sawing in and out as though she’d run a marathon. They hadn’t even kissed. What would happen if they actually did?
“I, uh, I’d better go see what’s happened.”
“Yeah, you should. And I should probably go home.”
Neither of them moved.
“Kerry, I need some help,” her father yelled just as Willow scampered into the room. It was the kick she needed to break her gaze from Caleb.
She cleared her throat and placed the cake box on the counter. “Umm, thanks for being with Dad today.”
Caleb shrugged. “You don’t have to keep thanking me. I volunteered, remember?”
She sighed. Things had just gotten awkward between them because of their almost kiss. No way now was she going to ask him to join her at the veterans’ center no matter how much Eric might have thought it was a good idea.
*
Caleb opened the refrigerator and looked at the bare shelves. He needed to get his shit together and go to the store. Then again, if he didn’t have to help with Ron every day, he could’ve replenished his stocks.
And pigs could fly.
Ethan was the one who had usually kept things stocked, so for the last six months Caleb had been existing on takeout and the very rare trip to the store.
He scrubbed a hand down his face.
When had he become so pathetic?
When had he given up on living?
The answer was simple. The day over a year ago when his life had blown up on the Mexico/Texas border. Where a bunch of drug runners and people smugglers had taken on him and the small group of men he’d been with. They’d won, but one of the casualties had been too much for him to deal with. His dog, Trigger, shot in the crossfire while protecting him. He now had bullet fragments lodged in his thigh muscle, and his right shoulder would never be the same.
“Fuck!” he yelled into the empty house, the sound echoing around him.
Snatching up his keys and grabbing a jacket from the hook by the back door, he headed out to his car. He didn’t normally hang out at bars, but tonight he had a need for something other than his own company. He liked having the odd beer, but never drank excessively. Alcohol had never solved any problems, and many times during the dark days of his recovery, he’d been tempted to sink into the pit of an alcoholic blur, like so many others when life handed them lemons. Only he wouldn’t have been able to stop if he started, and while his life was as shattered as his shoulder bone, he wasn’t going to give up on it.
He fired up the engine and reversed into the street, ignoring the welcoming light shining in his neighbor’s front room.
Every day, he wished Willow hadn’t wandered into his backyard and he hadn’t met Kerry. His life would certainly be less complicated if his neighbor had remained a stranger.
Her sweet orange blossom scent in the kitchen had called to him like a siren’s song. Teasing her had seemed so natural. An invisible thread seemed to draw them together, and her luscious pink lips begged for him to taste them. To find out if they were firm or soft. He predicted they’d be a combination of both.
His dick twitched against the zipper of his jeans. Walking into a bar with a hard-on wasn’t a good look. Maybe when he got out of the car a gust of cold breeze would temper his ardor—which was as unlikely as Texas having a mild summer.
Thinking about Kerry had to stop for his sanity. Caleb had made a solemn vow to keep
his emotions under control and not give anyone else the power to hurt him the way Trigger’s loss had cut into him.
And then, just when he thought life couldn’t hit him harder while he was down, his father had died in a fiery wreck on his way to San Antonio during Caleb’s recovery. Losing the person he’d looked up to his whole life on top of losing Trigger almost sent him to the dark depths of hell. Guilt for his part in these two deaths still ate away at him.
Caleb blew out a deep breath and pushed the thoughts away. For the next two hours, he was going to nurse one beer and have a greasy burger and fries. The taste of the food didn’t matter. He just hoped the place had loud music so it would drown out the incessant thoughts of his past hurts and, now, his sexy neighbor.
His wishes were answered the second he opened the door. From the outside, the place looked like a rundown building that should be condemned by the health department. On the inside, loud music resounded. Peanut shells coated the floor and the smell of stale beer and grilled food assailed his nostrils. It was the perfect place to blend into the shadows.
“Hey there, just take a seat and I’ll be with you shortly,” a pert waitress said as she strode past, balancing a tray weighed down with beer bottles.
He followed her direction and spied the long table filled with a group of college students. By the amount of empty beer bottles already scattered across the tabletop, a celebration was in progress. One of the guys tried to grope the waitress, but she deftly moved out of the way, as if she was used to it. And she probably was, but that didn’t make it right.
Not thinking through his actions clearly, he walked toward an empty booth adjacent to the rowdy group. The sound of peanut shells disintegrating beneath his boots was satisfying.
As he sat, he counted ten guys squashed around the table.
“What can I get ya?” the waitress asked.
“I’ll take a glass of whatever you’ve got on tap and”—he paused and glanced at the chalkboard menu—“a barbeque bacon cheeseburger, with fries, hold the pickles.”
“Coming right up.” She sashayed away.