by Macy Beckett
He drew his hand away, feeling like the world’s biggest ass. Of course she was sore—he’d ravaged her like a friggin’ animal for the last twenty hours. “Sorry, hon.” He took her face in his palms and kissed each cheek. “Hop in the shower if you want. I’ll put on some coffee and call Pru.” And he’d keep his hands to himself, until she made the next move.
***
Standing back from the steaming shower jets, June hesitated a moment, reluctant to wash Luke’s scent from her skin. It was silly, of course. She’d probably heal and feel ready for intimacy again by nightfall, and even if she didn’t, he’d wrap her in his arms and his scent again. Maybe a small part of her was afraid he’d run away, and this would be the last time his essence would surround her so completely. Time to be brave, to have some faith.She moved forward and let the hot water carry away the physical evidence of their lovemaking.
When she stepped out of the shower and dried off, she noticed her clothes neatly folded on the countertop. She smiled, realizing she’d worn them less than an hour yesterday. Technically, they were still clean.
She padded down the stairs and into the kitchen in bare feet, while breathing in the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Luke used the good stuff, she could tell. When he turned and offered her a mug, June’s eyes automatically scanned his face for any signs of regret. He smiled—the signature Luke smile that crinkled his face and sucked the air from her lungs—and she sighed in relief. He kissed the side of her neck and pushed something into her palm.
“Ibuprofen,” he said. “I don’t keep much food around, but I tried to make you breakfast.” He gestured to a sandwich stuffed full of deli meat, and June’s stomach rumbled at the sight. She popped the pills into her mouth, washed them down with a swallow of coffee, and attacked the sandwich. Turkey, her favorite.
“Your grandma gave me a tongue lashing for not calling last night, but other than that, everything’s fine. She wanted me to give you a message. Your partner called this morning.”
“Oh, Esteban?” she said with her mouth full. She’d forgotten all about him.
“I guess.” Luke shrugged, pursing his lips in a quick show of disdain. “Said don’t worry about anything today, just rest up, and talk to him tomorrow.” She wondered if Luke’s reaction was fueled by jealousy, or reluctance for her return to Austin. Or both.
“He’s just a friend, you know.” Setting her breakfast down, she stepped toward Luke. “And old enough to be my father.”
“None of my business.”
June smoothed her fingers up and down the length of his bare chest and then wrapped her arms around his waist. “I like to think it is.” She rested her chin beneath his shoulder and peered at the stubble darkening his jaw.
His arms tightened around her, and he kissed the top of her head. “We need to get outta here soon. I listed the house while you were in the hospital. Four showings today.”
“What?” June’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. She glanced at the dirty dishes in the sink and the unswept floor. Had anyone finished planting the flowers out front? She hadn’t even walked through the rest of the house to see that everything was in order. “How long do we have?”
“Two hours, but you’re not lifting a finger. We agreed.”
June told him where to shove his agreement, and after a quick and heated exchange of words, Luke relented. He tackled the floors while she washed dishes and made beds. When June suggested picking wildflowers to add to the vase on the kitchen table, Luke volunteered for that chore, probably fearing she’d draw every snake within ten miles with her siren call of rotten luck. The mulch bed along the front walkway had already been finished, lined with mums, and spread with cedar chips. Though she’d wanted to add some evergreen bushes and ground cover, June had to admit the landscaping already had a simplistic, cozy feel.
They walked out to Luke’s truck, and he pulled her close. “Let’s go fishing,” he said. “Just you and me. I don’t wanna share you today.”
June smiled up at him, not particularly wanting to be shared. “Catch and release, and I’m not baiting my own hook.”
“Deal.”
Thirty minutes later, they parked in Grammy’s driveway and stopped inside to say hello and grab a quilt and picnic basket.
“There you are.” Gram turned from her place at the kitchen sink, waving a dish towel at them. “Worried me sick!”
“I’m sorry.” June paused to yawn. “I fell right into bed and forgot to call.” Technically, it was the truth.
“Hey,” Luke argued, holding up one defensive hand, “you already yelled at me today. I’m gonna get the fishing gear.” He kissed June on the head and scurried out the back door, escaping a lecture in the process.
If the kiss took Gram by surprise, she didn’t let it show. Drying her soapy hands, she shook her head and muttered under her breath, “Mm-hmm. Fell right in-ta bed.” She made a come here motion. “No more bandage? Lemme see.”
June obeyed, and after Grammy had inspected the wound to her satisfaction, she held out her arms for a quick hug.
“Good to have ya home,” Gram said, nodding at the back door. “Now go on, and catch up with Lucas, but remember”—she lifted one finger in warning—“you’re sleepin’ in your own bed tonight. Y’understand me?”
June suppressed a smile. “Yes, ma’am.”
***
She met Luke at the shed, and they walked hand-in-hand to the pond. A slight chill on the breeze hinted of fall’s arrival, but the sun warmed the back of June’s neck. The scents of freshly mown grass, cedar trees, and Luke’s aftershave swirled inside her head, and she wished she could bottle the smell and breathe it in on cold, dark days when life seemed bleak. It was more soothing than any drink she’d ever mixed.
Luke wasn’t really interested in fishing. June could tell from his choice of bait: a pair of discarded rubber worms coated in faded pink glitter that looked less appetizing than pond sludge. Had he been serious, he’d dig for night crawlers in the rich soil beside the pond, or trap a few crickets in the underbrush. But that suited her just fine. She wasn’t really interested in fishing either. While he cast their lines into the water and situated the poles between two heavy rocks near the cattails, June spread the patchwork quilt in the shaded grass.
Soon, they cuddled together on the blanket, Luke on his back with one arm folded beneath his head, and June snuggled beside him, wrapped in his other arm. She rested her palm on his chest and felt his heart beat slow and steady, and for several minutes, they said nothing. At one point, he claimed her arm, studied what remained of her bite wound, and brushed a kiss over the two tiny scabs there. Some swelling remained, pink and puckered, but all things considered, she’d escaped relatively unscathed.
A chorus of mating calls croaked, buzzed, and chirped from the shallow water, and June smiled, figuring love was in the air today. Which brought a question to her lips.
“Do you believe me when I say I love you?”
If she hadn’t felt Luke’s muscles stiffen, she would’ve repeated herself. But he heard. He understood.
After a long minute, he said, “I believe that you believe it.” She turned his words over in her mind while he absently stroked her arm. “You love the man you think I am,” he continued, “but not the real me. You don’t know the real me. There’s not much to love.”
June’s pulse quickened. She hated to hear him talk like that. It wasn’t just the dismissal of her feelings, but Luke’s genuine disdain for himself. It both angered and saddened her. “Let’s pretend we never grew up together,” she said, propping herself on one elbow. “That we met for the first time when I came back to town. This is what I’d see: a man who works hard to help his neighbors—not for money, or because the court ordered him to—but because it’s the right thing to do. A man who takes care of his friends. He makes sure I get home okay after work. He’s patient. And a generous lover. Really, really generous.”
Luke smirked and tugged her on top of him. “Yo
u’re confusing generosity with greed.” His hands traveled down the length of her back and settled on her bottom. “I’d be inside you right now, if you weren’t so sore.”
“Don’t change the subject.” June kissed him softly. “I know the man I’m in love with. Better than he knows himself.”
“You think so?” He rolled her back onto the blanket and leaned up, looking out over the murky water. His voice darkened. “Ever heard of an OTH?”
“No.”
“Other Than Honorable. It’s how I was discharged from the army.”
June’s mouth fell open, not from disapproval, but because she couldn’t believe he was talking about it. Caressing his arm encouragingly, she asked, “What happened?”
“The short version? I beat the shit out of my commanding officer.”
She couldn’t stop her brows from ratcheting skyward. But she knew Luke. He must’ve had a good reason. “And the long version?”
He pulled in a deep breath and sighed loudly before glancing down at her. “You really wanna know?” When she nodded, he eased back onto the quilt. He took her hand and splayed her fingers, fidgeting with them as he spoke. “I told you a little about my ex-wife, Ada. How it was really bad between us?” June nodded, and he continued. “When I knew it wasn’t gonna work, I asked for an annulment, but she wouldn’t have it. Probably ’cause she hadn’t gotten her green card yet. Anyway, she’d been sleeping around behind my back. I think she knew I’d divorce her, and she wanted to snag another soldier first—someone who’d bring her back to the states. An officer this time. Eventually, she hooked one. My boss.”
“Oh, sugar!”
“Exactly.” His lips twitched in a grin. “An asshole named Captain Pratt. I didn’t know about it, but Trey did.”
“Wait,” June interrupted, “I thought officers couldn’t do things like that. Commit adultery.”
Laughing, he gave her a look that made her feel naïve, then kissed the back of her hand. “Technically, they can’t. But it’s hard to prove, and it happens all the time.”
“Oh.”
“Anyway, Trey thought I really loved Ada—he didn’t know any better—and he tried talking to Pratt, to get him to break it off with her.”
“Did it work?”
“No. The guy just balked and denied everything. And you know Trey—he wouldn’t let it go. He started snooping around, following them to see where they met, stuff like that. Finally, he came to me and spilled everything.” Luke laughed without humor. “Poor bastard was sweating like a whore in church. He was afraid I’d shoot the messenger.”
June understood. She’d been the messenger once and had lost a friend in the process.
“Anyway,” Luke continued, “when I told him I wanted a quick divorce, he came up with what we thought was a brilliant idea to make Ada cooperate.”
“Let me guess. To catch her in the act?”
“More or less.” Frowning, he waved away a mosquito. “We followed her and Pratt to their favorite hangout, some dive bar off post, to take pictures with a disposable camera left over from my wedding.” He shook his head cynically. “Seemed like a good idea at the time.”
It seemed like a good idea to June too. “What went wrong?”
“I’d just snapped a few shots of them kissing when one of Pratt’s buddies—another officer—noticed us and went ape-shit. He came storming over for my camera, and Trey stopped him. They started throwing down, and then Pratt charged me like a bull.”
“Uh-oh.” June saw where this was headed. “What’s the penalty when someone gets busted for adultery?”
“Discharge—an OTH, like mine.” Locks of ruddy, brown hair blew across Luke’s forehead with the breeze, and he pushed them back, face hardening as he replayed the events. “Pratt wanted my camera. Bad enough to fight for it. But I held him off and stuffed it in my back pocket. That’s when he got Ada involved.”
June didn’t like the sound of that.
“I guess he’d agreed to marry her, and she didn’t want her new meal ticket getting discharged. So she threatened to tell Command I’d cheated first. When I didn’t take the bait, Pratt asked her, What about all the times he hit you?” Luke tightened his grip on her hand. “I swear to God, June, her face lit up like the goddamned sun. She started spewing lies about how I beat her, and Pratt kept egging her on. She even said I made her miscarry our baby—the one that never existed. Claimed she could get her doctor to swear to it, if she paid him enough.”
He paused to take a deep breath. Though five years had passed, his jaw clenched in obvious frustration, not that she blamed him. June stroked his chest until his tense muscles relaxed beneath her touch. A few seconds later, he swallowed hard and continued. “Then Pratt said ‘Keep the camera, you stupid hick. Nobody’s gonna believe a wifebeater over me. You’ll be in the brig by morning, and in a kraut prison till you’re thirty.’” With his free hand, Luke scrubbed his face. “And then I completely lost it. I went off on him.”
“Of course you did!” She would’ve snapped too.
“No, June.” He shifted his gaze, locking his green eyes on hers. “I messed him up really bad. Broke his jaw, his nose, maybe even a few ribs. I don’t remember.”
“Good.”
“Good? Jesus, I snapped and beat a man till my knuckles bled! That doesn’t scare you?”
“No.” Not only had Pratt slept with Luke’s wife, he’d tried framing him for spousal abuse. Besides, she’d known Luke all her life, and though he’d gotten into a few tiffs in high school, he’d never hurt anyone.
“Well, it scares me. What if it happens again?”
June reached up and caressed his cheek. “Has it happened again?”
“No, but—”
“But nothing. That man attacked you, then pushed and pushed, until he got the reaction he wanted. Pratt got what he deserved.”
Luke shook his head. “The army disagrees with you. The only thing that saved me from getting a dishonorable discharge was those damned pictures. They took the affair into account and lessened it to an OTH.”
“What about Trey?”
“Same thing—OTH for striking a superior officer.”
“And Pratt?”
Luke released her hand, turning his gaze to the clouds. “Last I heard, he lawyered up and got transferred stateside. I don’t know if he married Ada, but I like to think so. A fitting punishment for both of them.”
“What a mess.”
“No shit.” Luke plucked a tall blade of grass, then began snapping it to pieces. “My career? Gone, just like that. World War Three could break out, and they wouldn’t call me back. And folks don’t exactly go out of their way to hire you when you’ve got an OTH on your record.”
That explained Morris Howard’s second chance. He’d helped Luke build a new career when no one else would have him. And then Luke had done the same for Trey and the steady rotation of troubled men who worked with Helping Hands.
“That doesn’t seem fair.” June swept bits of grass off the blanket. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“The hell I didn’t.” His voice went sharp, eyes narrowed. “Don’t do that. Don’t make excuses for me. I agreed to live by a code of honor, and I broke it. Nobody put a gun to my head. I made a stupid choice. I hurt someone, and I deserve the consequences.”
June straddled Luke’s lap, taking his chin so she had his full attention. “Doesn’t change anything. That officer shouldn’t have slept with your wife. And don’t even get me started on the fake abuse charges.”
“It doesn’t excuse what I—”
“No. You made a mistake, and you’ve moved on with your life, as you should. You’re a good man. I love you.” She kissed him hard on the mouth, trying to force away the remnants of his self-hatred. When he shook his head to object, she pulled him closer. Eventually, he softened enough to return the kiss.
A buzzing noise sounded from Luke’s pocket, the vibration tickling June’s inner thigh. She scooted aside to let him answer t
he call, but she never stopped soothing him with gentle touches.
Luke checked the incoming number and tapped his phone’s screen. “Let’s hear it.” He nodded in response to whatever was said on the other end. “Great, thanks.” Then he disconnected, short and sweet.
“Good news?” she asked. They could use some.
“The best. That was my realtor. He thinks we’ll have multiple offers by tonight.” The hope of a quick sale seemed to lift his mood, bringing out a tentative smile. “And he loved your ideas—the colors and furniture and girly stuff. I never thanked you for that.”
It still wasn’t a thank you, not really, but June grinned and rested her head on Luke’s chest. Part of her wanted to continue their conversation, but she thought better of it. If, deep down, Luke didn’t believe she loved him, repeating the words wouldn’t make a difference. She wrapped an arm tightly around his waist and sighed.
That’s when they heard the first of the distant sirens.
Chapter 21
Luke yawned behind his fist and squinted up at the cloudless, blue sky. He directed his dubious gaze at the trees, whose leaves rustled lightly in the cool breeze. With no scent of rain weighting the air, he wondered if someone had fired off the weather sirens by accident.
“They still run drills the first Tuesday of the month?” June asked, obviously just as puzzled.
“Yeah.” But this was the last week in September. Not a test. “Guess we should head back to Pru’s and check the forecast.” Late summer storms could creep up quicker than a duck on a beetle, and he had no intention of getting caught in the open.
With a groan, he rolled off the blanket and then reeled in their empty fishing lines. Thankfully, nothing took the bait. The last thing he wanted to do was untangle a crotchety snapping turtle or unhook a puny trout. He’d hoped to wrap June in his arms and enjoy a long nap, since neither of them had slept much last night. They still could, he guessed, just on Pru’s sofa. Not quite the same, though.
June shook out the blanket and slung it over one shoulder, as Luke grabbed their untouched picnic basket. While they walked back to Pru’s, Luke couldn’t help tuning out June’s soft prattle to consider what his agent had said. Multiple offers didn’t necessarily mean a bidding war. If he’d listed the house when he’d originally intended—if Trey’s injury hadn’t set him so far back—he’d be in a better position to negotiate. But with his land coming up for auction in a week, Luke didn’t have the luxury of holding out for the highest bidder. The buyer who offered immediate closing would win his home.
