by Zoe Dawson
“This is chipa guazu, a sweet corn, onions, eggs, and cheese souffle.”
She poured him a glass of mango juice and there was already a steaming cup of black coffee with little pots of cream on the side for each of them. He drank his black and ignored the cream.
“Can I have that?” Renata asked, pointing at the cream.
“Help yourself,” he said as she leaned past him and snatched it up, pouring it into her mug.
He cut a couple of the small round rolls in half and slathered on the jam. Taking a bite, he realized it wasn’t strawberry, but something more exotic. It was eyes-rolling-back-in-his-head good with the tangy tropical-tart taste.
Renata smiled. “Guava jam. Carolina makes it from scratch.”
He looked over at the sweet doe-eyed woman who had opened her house to them without so much as a frown. She had helped Renata operate on him, and if it wasn’t for her modern veterinary practice, he wouldn’t be in as good a shape as he was right now.
“Wow,” he said, his taste buds dancing. “That’s something.” He then tried the egg concoction and sighed. It was delicious. “Your husband is a lucky man.” He reached out and squeezed her hand. “Thank you for your hospitality,” he said.
Blushing, she waved him off. “Eat. It will make you much stronger for the fighting.”
He leaned over and winked. “I can take Renata with one hand tied behind my back.”
Carolina burst out laughing, and Renata stuck her tongue out at him. “Ha ha. You are so darn funny.” She said it sarcastically, but her eyes twinkled, giving him that damn zing he always felt around her. Maybe he was forgiven for his grumpy commando ways. Didn’t mean for one minute that he wouldn’t revert to a jerk again. There was always the danger of that.
“I can handle the pickup and washing,” Renata said when Carolina started to clear. “I’m sure you’ve got plenty to do around here.”
“I do and thank you.” Carolina beamed. Max rose with her. He was feeling much too edgy to sleep, and while Renata was distracted by the breakfast dishes, he was free to do something.
“Carolina,” he said as she headed toward the garage. “Can I help?”
She bit her lip and looked over her shoulder at Renata. “I’m not sure—”
“I’m begging you. I can’t lay around. It’s not in my nature. I’ll go mad.”
“Well, for the sake of your sanity and your debate skills with our resident doctor, I’ll make an exception.” He smiled, but she stopped him and said very firmly, “The minute I think you’re fatigued or not feeling well, you will be sidelined.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Don’t try working that charm on me, either. I have a husband just like you, so I’m prepared.”
“You are most gracious, and I so appreciate you looking out for my health.” He gave her his best I’ll-behave smile.
“Paugh, you are a tricky one. Don’t think I don’t know you’re charming me now.”
He chuckled. “I’m totally innocent.”
“Uh-huh.”
He followed her outside.
“You can let the chickens out of their coop. Before I release the alpacas into the pasture, I’ll need to get their monthly medical check done.”
He headed toward the coop, Jugs trailing him. At the wire structure, he heard cooing. He opened the door and then stepped away as hens came out of the wooden house in a bright array. The multi-colored rooster that had crowed in the early morning strutted out, showing off his red, dark blue, yellow, orange, and green feathers.
“We’ll feed them in a bit. Now for the alpacas.”
“Do they lay eggs?”
“The alpacas? Oh, dear, no. You certainly aren’t a farm boy.”
He chuckled. “The chickens, Carolina.” He took her hand and helped her over a heave in the beautiful cobblestone of the driveway. “Who’s being charming now?”
She chuckled and winked. “I hope they’ll lay. The earthquake and the aftershocks might make them nervous, and nervous hens don’t lay. We had some of their eggs for breakfast.”
“Right. Not much of a farm boy. All the eggs I’ve ever eaten, I bought at the grocery store.”
“My dad owned a farm for many years, and I worked it before college. It’s some of my best memories.” She blinked a few times. “I miss him.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s the way of the world. You grow old and die. You just hope that for the time that you’re here, you make it count.”
“Every day,” he said, pondering his limitless thinking.
She looked at him and smiled. “I’m sure that you do make a difference.”
She walked to the fence behind the house, and Max hobbled after her. His ankle was feeling much better but was just a tad tender.
“Keep the fence slightly closed. They’re used to this.” She nodded when he got to the pen. “They’re easy to handle. Just funnel them one by one to me.” She looked down at Jugs. “How is he with livestock?”
“Jugs doesn’t do anything without my permission.”
She nodded. “I see. Okay, then.” She pointed to a fenced off area where there was a herd of alpacas in many colors ranging from brown to white. He walked toward them, and they already knew the drill. He ducked carefully in between the slats in the fence.
He did as she asked, and she got them onto a large rectangle scale. She made notes in a small journal she kept in the back pocket of her jeans.
“You know them all by just looking at them?”
“Yes. I bought them separately, and it’s easy for me to tell them apart.”
Once she did her med check and clipped a few of their nails, telling him that alpacas had nails instead of hooves, Max opened the gate, releasing them all into the larger field.
“Okay, feeding time, then we can let the horses out into the field as well.”
She headed toward the barn. Once inside, she told him one scoop of oats for the horses and the donkey, then fill up their water buckets. He used the hose while she did the toting.
Outside, he topped off the troughs.
“Go ahead and open the stalls from the outside and release the horses and your sweet donkey into the fields.”
He walked over to open the gate, feeling good, but a little tired. When he came back, she said, “That’s about it.” She stared at him and smiled. “You still looking for something to do?”
“Sure, as long as it doesn’t get me in trouble with the boss.”
“It’s a sitting down job.” She took him back into the barn to a small room that was full of fur. “How you on spinning?”
“Never done it.”
“It’s easy.” She picked up a large swath of the fur. “This is roving, combed alpaca wool fleece, pulled out into one long strip.” She walked to a spinning wheel near the table. “Have a seat.” When he gratefully folded into the chair, she set the fleece in his hands. Picking up one end of the wool around the smaller wheel, she stepped on the rectangle of wood beneath the wheel. Grasping the larger wheel, she started it turning. “So, all you do is push and pull, and it will straighten and twist into yarn. It’s called drawing. Bit of an upper body work out, but I can spin for hours without any discomfort.”
“It’s really soft.”
“Yes, and it’s much less prickly than wool and hypoallergenic. I’ve made hats, sweaters, blankets, and coats from it.”
She watched him for a few minutes. He could feel the tension and the twisting on the roving as it turned into yarn. “You’re a natural,” she murmured. “Quite a delicate touch, but you have it.”
“Just be careful you don’t prick your finger on the spinning wheel, Sleeping Beauty. That’s how damsels get into distress,” Renata said from somewhere behind him.
Renata’s words were nothing but a husky tease, but he couldn’t seem to help the pinprick of irritation from not being able to handle his own injuries. “Don’t worry, Doc. Some ole witch-dragon isn’t going to catch me with my shield down.”
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“I’m sure.” Her voice was laced with amusement. “You’ll probably just charm her to death.”
He looked over his shoulder at her standing in the doorway, the dim light glinting on all those damn curls. He swore the heat from just looking at her elevated his temperature a full degree. “Oh, lady, if I was being charming, you’d be the first to know.”
Renata tucked her hands into her pockets, her expression telling him that she didn’t miss his meaning. “Charm or not, Mad Max. You are going to do as you wish, even if it is against doctor’s orders.” She watched him spin for a moment. “But when you’re feverish or you need doctoring, I won’t hesitate to be there for you. Damn that blasted oath.”
“Why don’t we go and start lunch,” Carolina suggested, tucking her arm into the crook of Renata’s. The doc looked at her newfound friend. “Don’t think I don’t know you’re enabling him, sweetie.”
“He reminds me of my husband. There is nothing we can do when these types of men make up their mind. Let’s leave him to his work.”
Work…this is what he was reduced to thanks to a fall from a chopper and a bullet in his side. Spinning like an old woman.
His thoughts strayed and he was convinced that he was doing the right thing with Renata. Limitless thinking kept him moving forward. He sighed. It was the one thing he could count on. Something nagged at him from the back of his mind. But he couldn’t quite grasp it. When he identified it, he shifted. Was that doubt? Not one to duck the cold hard truth, he probed, but the doubt clouded his mind.
He kept spinning—one, because it was soothing, and two, it kept his mind off Renata.
That was until she burst back into the room. “Your dog!” she snapped, pointing an accusatory finger at Jugs, taking an aggressive step forward. “I don’t know how he did it, but he did.”
“What did he do?” He stopped the wheel and set down the roving, turning toward her.
She scowled at Jugs, her face white, swinging her arm up in the general direction of the culprit. “He took it again.” She ran her hands through all those curls, and he told himself not to get hard. Damn his freaking hormones. She started to pace, her feet kicking up dust puffs on the ground, showing off her tight ass in those jeans.
“Jughead,” he said. The Malinois looked at him, those feral copper eyes sheened with an intelligence that sometimes gave Max the chills. Jugs knew he was in trouble, but the fearless mutt just stared Max down. That attitude came with the Malinois territory, and Max had accepted it when he’d gotten the K9 right after Max had finished the training. It was as if Jugs said, I’m only doing what you trained me to do, so suck it up, buttercup.
“You are going to show me where it is, Juggernaut.” The authority in her tone rang in the dim, small space.
Jugs cocked his head at her and didn’t move a muscle. The only thing that showed that he was even affected by her unforgiving attitude was a wag of his tail. He was a piece of work.
He sighed. “Doc, he’s a seeking dog. He wants us to find it and then reward him with his Kong. Did you happen to bring it?”
She leaned her head back, letting out a long, drawn out breath. “Oh, my God. Kept hostage by a Kong. Now I know how Faye Ray felt.”
He chuckled. He simply couldn’t help it. She was so damn adorable and upset. All he wanted to do was go over there and soothe her.
She looked at him and bit her lip. “Yes,” she hissed. “I brought it.” She patted her pocket and glared at him. “Is that your way of reminding me that this is my fault for indulging him with his favorite toy beside you?”
“I’m no damn toy,” he growled, then his whole body heated when she looked over at him, her eyes trailing from his gaze lower to caress his mouth, then leisurely worked its way down his body.
“Hmm,” was all she said in a soft way that only fueled his fantasies.
He swallowed back a groan. Such a predictable and unwelcome response when it came to Renata, yet he couldn’t stop wanting her, no matter how hard he tried. There was no blocking the desire that kicked up his adrenaline whenever she was near. No shutting out the reoccurring fantasy he had of burying himself deep inside her soft, lush body and hearing his name on her lips when she came.
There was a satisfying gleam in her eye that told him she had wanted that reaction and his hands burned as if he was playing with fire. He shook his head, needing to clear it. “Come on,” he growled. “I’ll help you find it.”
She huffed and he had to wonder at her agitation and that slow perusal of his body. Was she as turned on and off-the-charts hot as he was? “Why is this so important to you…this helmet?”
“It’s a morion,” she said snottily, like he was a complete moron, and he confirmed it. She was just as on edge as he was.
“Okay. Why is this morion so important to you?”
“The Paraguayan government gave me a job to do. I intend to do it.”
“No, that’s not it.”
She huffed as they went out into the barn. “It’s of historical significance and proves out a rumor that the Spanish had been here.”
“Nope. Try again.”
“It elevates my reputation in the field. Something like this is career-making.”
“I’m not buying it,” he said, staring her down when her eyes narrowed. Emotion was brimming in those dark orbs, overflowing with the truth left unsaid.
She blurted out, “So I can prove to my father that my career choice was the right one for me.” Her voice rose as she spoke. “He can be proud of me instead of treating me like a freaking pariah.”
“Now that wasn’t so hard. Was it?”
She pushed his shoulder and grumbled as she walked away. He stood there, taking in that ass again. “Are you coming or are you going to just watch my butt?”
His eyes rose to hers. She did have one fine butt.
“I’ve got your ticket, Petty Officer,” she said pointing from her eyes to his with her first two fingers. “Maybe you want to make some declarations?”
“That’s classified.”
“I don’t have time for this right now,” she said. “But be warned. I’m not letting you off the hook for one minute.”
Twenty minutes later, sweaty and sniping at each other, they found the helmet in the loft between two bales of hay.
“You taught him to climb a ladder?” Her glare exploded over him and spoke of deadly retribution.
He shrugged. “They are very versatile dogs.”
He went to the ladder and climbed down very slowly. Jugs hadn’t bothered to come up with him. He already knew it was up there. He was on all four paws, his eyes keen, waiting for Renata to throw his reward.
She groused all the way down about stupid, smart dogs and their handlers, the helmet clanging against the wood as she descended. At the last four rungs, she lost her handhold, but even though it cost him, he caught her in his arms. The pain that sailed up into his rib cage and chest almost made his knees buckle.
She was surprised into silence as she looked up at him, the air in the barn heavy, their gazes intense, his body reacting to her soft curves. He was going to go freaking insane. Jugs barked, impatient for his toy just as Carolina called, “Friends? Lunch is ready.”
He set her down like she was a live ordnance, even the pain welcome to shock him into awareness. She backed up and turned as Jugs trailed after her. At the entrance to the barn, she pulled out and threw the Kong with all her might.
He kept his distance from her for the rest of the day, and when night approached and she returned to the room, he met her in the doorway.
“You think avoiding me is going to help prepare you to face me. Think again.”
“No, Doc, I don’t think even BUD/S prepared me for you.” He grabbed her chin, sliding his thumb along her cheekbone. Then, as if he was releasing a live wire, he retreated into the bedroom. When she tried to step through, he halted her with his words. “I think it’s best if I find another place to sleep.” He grabbed up his pack, ignoring the
pain, and headed to the door. “Come on, Jugs.”
She let out a soft exasperated cry at the sight of his partner clasping the helmet in his teeth as he came around the bed. He must have foraged it from another coveted hiding place. For the first time since they had bonded as partners, Jugs stood there. He looked to Renata, then back to him.
“Juggernaut,” Max growled, and Jugs dropped his head, released the helmet, and nudged it with his nose. Then he trotted out of the room.
8
“Wait.” Renata turned on the bedside lamp, hurrying to plant herself in front of him. She crossed her arms, holding onto her ineffectual anger as if it might force a confession out of him. He simply stared back, his eyes so blue they hurt. The light defined his features in sheer stunning detail—his high forehead, thick mocking brows, a sculpted nose that looked as if it might have been broken once or twice in his thirty-some years.
Then there was that taunting mouth and stubborn chin, covered with dark stubble that made him look even more like a rogue. He looked tough and dangerous suddenly, and the transformation from the wicked-grinning devil who had been in the barn forcing confessions from her sent a shiver of heat down her spine. He looked like the warrior he was, world-wise and in control. But she was guessing that illusion of control wouldn’t take much to break. They were walking a thin and unsecured line.
She didn’t duck and run from danger. Most of the time she simply ignored it and did what had to be done, because it had to be done. She wasn’t sure what kind of mentality that was, but her SEAL possessed it in spades.
What he’d made her reveal in the barn was the unvarnished truth, one she hadn’t seen until now, and even though it threw her into a tailspin, she didn’t fear her own thoughts on the matter. She would do the work in her head to understand what she had been living since she’d walked out on medicine. Damn him for revealing that to her when she would have been happy going on her merry way in anthropology until the end of her days.
What did scare her was her own volatile emotions when it came to this man. Max was pure energy and beauty, and she hadn’t been able to stop everything inside her from responding to him. She would have done it all again to save him. It was inside of her like something so alive she couldn’t believe she hadn’t seen it before now. She shifted, her body knowing what it wanted, her mind in turmoil and her heart hanging in the balance.
