by Debbie Mason
Her gaze jerked to his. “I didn’t think your retirement was in question. You promised…” She trailed off then cleared her throat, focusing on the contents of the drawer she’d pulled out. “You’ve done six tours, Jack. You were a POW for seventeen months. You’ve put in your time.”
He knew what she’d stopped herself from saying. He’d promised when they got married that tour would be his last. At the time, it was a promise he thought he could keep. Things had changed. In some ways, they’d changed, too.
“I don’t know if I can give you the answer you want.”
“I see,” she said with a forced smile and headed for the bathroom.
“Come on, Grace, don’t—” She shut the door.
What the hell? All he wanted was a month or two to figure things out. You’d think she could give him at least that. Yeah right. Grace wouldn’t be able to let it go until she had every detail locked down. The apartment walls closed in around him, and he strode to the front door. Locking it behind him, he headed down the stairs and onto the sidewalk.
The sun’s rays danced off the vehicles parked against the curb on Main Street, a warm breeze ruffling the blue and yellow flowers trailing over the hanging baskets. At least the weather, unlike his wife, was cooperating, he thought as he walked to his truck. Some of his frustration with Grace faded as he remembered making love to her in the meadow, proposing to her there.
The day might be perfect after all. All he had to do was distract her. Kissing seemed to work well. They didn’t have any problems when they were making love. It was talking that got them in trouble. Then he remembered who he was picking up, and his plans for seducing his wife went out the window. Talking would be about all they’d be doing since his son wouldn’t let him near his mother.
A candy-apple-red Mustang pulled beside Jack’s truck, distracting him. Hot set of wheels, he thought with a low whistle. The whistle sputtered between his lips when his gaze went to the gorgeous brunette behind the wheel. He stopped dead in his tracks.
Maria.
Jack was screwed. Unless… His gaze shot to the narrow alley between the barbershop and hardware store only twenty feet away. Just as he was about to sprint for cover, Maria slid her oversize shades on top of her head, zeroing in on his position.
If the enemy had you in their sights, Flaherty, you’d be a dead man.
From the way Maria’s full lips flattened, he still might be. And if the pissed-off brunette easing her bombshell body—shrink-wrapped in a white halter top and red jeans—from the Mustang didn’t kill him, his wife would. All he could think, as he forced a smile on his face and started toward Maria, was he should’ve told Grace about her when he had the chance.
A bead of sweat trickled down his back. He couldn’t risk Grace being blindsided by this. He had to get Maria out of here and ask Madison to keep his son a while longer. He glanced back at the apartment. Grace wasn’t the type to spend an hour getting ready. If he was lucky, he had ten minutes to send Maria on her way. What are you smoking? he thought when the woman in question sashayed toward him with a determined glint in her eyes. His gaze darted to the storefront windows and sidewalk. At least the streets were quiet. For now.
Maria looked him up and down, then raised dark eyes flashing with temper. She stabbed his chest with a long, red fingernail. “I thought something had happened to you. But here you are, alive and well, looking as disgustingly gorgeous as ever, no sign of a broken hand or finger. What the hell, you couldn’t pick up a phone? I was worried about you.” Along with the anger, he saw the hurt in her eyes and felt like an unfeeling jerk.
He should’ve called her, and not just to avoid her hunting him down. It wasn’t her fault. Neither of them had known he was married. They’d spent a lot of time together, come through hell and back together. They’d become good friends, and chances were, if he wasn’t married, they would’ve become a whole lot more. He closed his hand over hers. “I’m sorry. I meant to get back to you, but I’ve been busy.”
“Really, Jack, too busy to call me?” She gave an angry shake of her head, the sun glinting off her long, dark hair. “I thought we had something. I thought I meant something to you.”
“You do. You’re a good friend, and I’m sorry you were worried about me.”
“Friend? Come on, I was more to you than a friend, and you know it. What—” Her voice was getting increasingly louder. Half a block down, Nell McBride got out of a red pickup with her cronies.
“I’m married, Maria,” Jack quickly cut her off. “Things got a little out of hand over there, and I apologize for that. It was never my intention to hurt you, but I love my wife. I got my memory back a couple days ago.”
“How nice for your wife. Kind of convenient, though, don’t you think, that you forgot about her when we were over there? If it were me, I’d have a hard time buying that. Must have been tough on her when you told her about us. How did she take it, Jack?” she asked, her tone taunting and aggressive.
Somehow she knew he hadn’t told Grace. He wouldn’t confirm or deny. “My wife knows I love her. She knows she’s the only woman for me and has nothing to worry about.” The muscle in his clenched jaw pulsed. Problem was, he wasn’t sure how Grace would feel once she knew about Maria.
Maria’s dark gaze flitted past him, and a slow smile curved her full lips. “Are you sure about that?” She moved closer. Close enough that he could feel the heat radiating from her body, smell the sweet, cloying scent of her vanilla musk.
He took a step back as Nell and her friends glanced their way. “Look, Maria, I’ve got to get going. From now on I’ll return your calls.” In the back of his mind, he realized that was a dumb-ass thing to say. The woman had flown halfway across the country to see him. He wasn’t going to get rid of her that easily.
“Oh, Jack.” She gave a husky laugh and wound her arms around his neck. “You’re not going to have to return my calls, you silly man.”
“What do you—” The rest of his words got swallowed up in her hot and hungry kiss.
As he worked to extricate himself from the tight hold she had on his neck, she broke the kiss and murmured against his lips, “You can deny it all you want, but we had something. And I’m staying here until you figure that out. Because I guarantee if you’d been married to me, I’d be the last thing you forgot.”
Jack ignored the dark scowl Nell McBride shot at him and Mrs. Tate’s anguished, “Poor Grace.” He wiped his hand across his mouth, so angry he could spit.
Maria eyes widened, and she took a step back.
“I’m warning you, Maria—” Jack began when a hand clamped on his shoulder and spun him around. He caught a glimpse of Sawyer’s flared nostrils and bared teeth just before his fist slammed into Jack’s jaw.
The force of the blow rocked Jack on his heels. It took a second to regain his balance. Once he did, he put a hand to his mouth, moving his jaw at the same time he stared down Sawyer. “Cheap shot, dickhead.”
“Jack, baby, are you all right?”
He shrugged Maria’s hand from his shoulder and focused on Sawyer. Sawyer glared at her then turned on Jack. “That’s all you’ve got to say for yourself, you son of a bitch? You kissed another woman in the middle of Main Street while your wife watched. I warned you if—”
Jack’s gaze shot past Sawyer. A picnic basket lay on the ground in front of the door to the apartment. He felt like the earth moved under his feet. He needed to get to her. Sawyer got in his face.
Fisting his hands in Sawyer’s sweaty T-shirt, Jack gritted out, “Get the fuck out of my way. Now.”
“You’re not going anywhere near her, asshole.” Sawyer planted his palms on Jack’s chest and shoved.
“She’s my wife, dickhead.” Jack let go of Sawyer’s T-shirt, drew back his fist, and got in a solid blow to Sawyer’s gut. Jesus, the guy worked out. Jack shook off the pain in his hand while Sawyer recovered from the blow. He recovered faster than Jack expected, grabbing the back of his shirt as Jack went to jog pas
t him.
Jack spun around and put him in a headlock. Sawyer grabbed him around the waist.
“What the Sam Hill has gotten into you two? Stop that right now before someone gets hurt!” Nell McBride yelled at them.
Jack looked up to see a crowd had gathered. Just like the good old days, he thought as he and Sawyer staggered down the sidewalk, each trying to gain the upper hand, neither one of them willing to let go. They lost their balance and slammed into the front window of the barbershop. Jack heard an ominous crack, and they landed inside the shop on the floor. Instinctively, he rolled on top of Sawyer to protect him when the rest of the pane of glass came down on them.
“Always have to be the hero, don’t you?” Sawyer muttered, but some of the anger had left his eyes.
“Shut up, dickhead,” Jack said and gingerly rolled off him.
Dan looked down at them. “Should’ve known there’d be trouble now that you’re back in town, Jack. You owe me another window.”
Sure he did, because if anything went wrong in Christmas, it was Jackson Flaherty’s fault. He wasn’t going to need a month to decide if he was staying or leaving. But after today, he wasn’t sure his wife would be leaving with him.
* * *
Jack sent Grace another text: Pick up the goddamned phone now. After twenty unanswered phone calls and twice as many texts, he’d gone from desperate to a combination of panicked and pissed off.
“Leave her alone. She doesn’t want to talk to you, flyboy,” Sawyer said from where he sat beside him on the cot, craning his neck to look over Jack’s shoulder.
“Mind your own business, dickhead. If it hadn’t been for you, we wouldn’t be sitting in jail.”
“That’s on your sister. I thought she was going to shoot me. The woman needs help. Gage should sign her up for an anger management course or something.”
Or something. Not that Jack would admit it to Sawyer, but even he’d been worried Jill might pull the trigger. Her finger had looked a little twitchy when Sawyer started going on about how amazing Grace was and how Jack didn’t deserve her. The crowd loudly agreed with his ex–best friend. Both his sister and Maria—who he wanted to strangle—had gone into pit-bull defense mode. Yeah, it had been a real shitshow.
Jack stood up and started to pace. The cell was a palace compared to the hole they’d been kept in, but being locked up was starting to get to him. It was one of the reasons he’d been texting and calling Grace nonstop. After the first couple of tries, he’d figured she wasn’t going to answer. Didn’t matter; he’d needed the distraction.
He wiped his damp forehead. “Jesus, it’s hot in here. Town council must’ve cut Gage’s budget,” he said as a way to explain the sweat dripping off him.
A concerned frown furrowed Sawyer’s brow. “Give me your phone.”
“Use your own.”
“I don’t have it on me. I was jogging when I ran into you and Hot Stuff making out in the middle of Main Street.”
It was getting harder for Jack to stay focused. He didn’t bother responding. Instead, he muttered, “Where the hell is Gage?”
Sawyer took the phone from him, forcing him onto the cot. “I’ll get you out of here, buddy. Take a couple of deep breaths.”
Sawyer put the phone to his ear and walked to the front of the cell. Jack couldn’t make out what he said, but it was obvious whomever he spoke to got an earful. Less than two minutes later, Gage strode through the main doors, exchanging a look with Sawyer before fitting the key in the cell door. “Sorry I took so long, but I had half the town jammed in the station and Nell, Mrs. Tate, and Mrs. Wright in my office. It’s not been a fun day so far, boys,” he said.
Jack made himself take his time when all he wanted to do was bolt. Then again, his legs might give out on him and he’d embarrass himself further. As soon as he got on the other side of the door, the rock-hard muscles in his neck relaxed.
He gave Sawyer a curt nod and muttered, “Thanks.” Taking his phone from him, he said, “But you’re still a dickhead.”
“Look it up in the dictionary and it’d have your picture there, flyboy, not mine.”
“For chrissakes, you two are acting like you’re back in high school. Grow up.”
Jack started for the door. “I gotta go. Let me know what I owe—”
“Park your ass in the chair, Flaherty. You’re not going anywhere just yet,” Gage said in a don’t-mess-with-me tone of voice.
Jack turned to see Gage taking a seat behind the desk one of his deputies had vacated earlier. “It’s not like I’m leaving town. I have to talk to Grace and pick up little Jack.”
“Don’t worry about little Jack. He’s staying at my place for the day. And I’d suggest you give your wife some time. She doesn’t want to talk to you.” Gage gestured for him to take the empty chair beside Sawyer, who had a smug smile on his face.
“Too bad. She’s going to talk to me. So let’s get this over with, shall we?” Jack said.
Gage’s brows hit his hairline, then he read off a list of charges.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Jack and Sawyer said at the same time as they pointed at each other. “It was his fault.”
“Yeah, I thought that’s what you’d say. And, Jack, just so you know, several women asked that you be charged with adultery.”
“Bullshit. I didn’t commit adultery. And even if I did… I did not,” he snapped at Sawyer when he muttered that it looked like it to him, “you can’t arrest someone for adultery.”
“Relax, I know that. Giving you a heads-up is all. Women in town might give you a hard time.”
“What else is new?” Jack muttered. He should’ve enjoyed the hero deal while it lasted.
“All right, so here’s how it’s going to go. All charges will be dropped, and I’m not fining either one of you. You’ll split the replacement cost of Dan’s window and do one month of community service.”
At this point, Jack would agree to anything to get out of there. “Okay,” he said and stood up.
“Fine,” Sawyer grumbled, coming to his feet.
They both started for the door. “Ah, boys, don’t you want to know what you’ll be doing for the next month?” The underlying amusement in Gage’s voice didn’t bode well.
Sawyer and Jack shared a look then turned to Gage, who tried to keep a straight face. “There’s a house on Sugar Plum Lane. An abandoned Victorian that should be condemned, but the historical society won’t give the okay. Kids are playing around in there, and someone’s going to get hurt. You two have one month to get it ready for market. I’ll expect you there from nine to five Monday through Friday. And I’ll be checking up on you.”
“Hell no, I’m not working with him. Give me something else to do,” Jack said.
“You think I want to work with you, flyboy? Come on, McBride, I have a business to run. I’ll coach the kids’ baseball team.”
“You used to be afraid of the ball,” Jack said. “I’ll coach the baseball team.”
“You’ve got a manager at the bar, Sawyer. And this is the only deal on the table, take it or leave it. But I’d advise you to take it. Wouldn’t look good for either of you to have a record, and since my wife became mayor, the fines are pretty steep.”
They muttered their agreement, and Jack pushed open the door. Sawyer followed after him. “See you tomorrow at nine sharp, boys.” Gage chuckled.
“Dickhead,” both he and Sawyer said under their breath. Jack lengthened his stride, ignoring the disgusted look the woman at the front desk shot him. “Bye, Sawyer,” she tittered.
Jack rolled his eyes and headed for the door. Through the glass, he could see Nell and a bunch of older women standing on the sidewalk. Several feet away, his sister and Maria talked to Fred and Ted. He’d been hoping to avoid them all. He didn’t want to waste time getting into it with Maria or the town’s morality squad.
As Jack went to open the door, he heard the shots. He scanned the street, his muscles tensing, ready to go into defensive
mode. A rusted-out brown truck trundled down the road. He dragged in a breath of fresh air as he pushed open the door, then spotted Maria on the ground. Fred, Ted, and Jill gathered around her. The three of them spoke to her in low, comforting voices. They knew what had happened. Everyone else gawked at her like she was some kind of freak.
“Show’s over, folks,” he gritted out, waving them off. He crouched in front of Maria and moved her hair from her face. She was pale, her eyes vacant. “Maria, look at me. It’s Jack. You’re okay. A truck backfired.” His chest tightened when a low whimper escaped her parted lips. “Come on, sweetheart, look at me.” He stroked her cheek.
She finally lifted glassy eyes to his, then glanced around, an embarrassed flush reddening her cheeks.
“Don’t worry about them,” he said, helping her to her feet. Jack looked at his sister, lifting his chin at the crowd. Jill nodded and headed for Nell and her friends.
Fred rubbed Maria’s arm, and Ted handed her her sunglasses with a commiserating smile. “Don’t you pay them no mind, missy. Me and Fred know what it’s like. You’re going to be fine. Jack here will take good care of you.”
She murmured her thanks. The two men patted Jack’s shoulder. “We’ll handle the girls,” Fred assured him before they headed off.
Jack wished “the girls” included his wife, because they were right: Maria was his responsibility.
“I feel like such an idiot,” she whispered. Her hand shook as she swiped at her tearstained face.
Jack put his arms around her, angling his head to meet her eyes. “You and me both. If you’d seen me in the cell ten minutes ago, you wouldn’t feel so bad.”
“We’re a pair,” she said as he released her. She went to put on her sunglasses and gave a pained grimace.
Jack frowned and took her hand in his, doing a quick scan of the rest of her as he did. She’d ripped the knee of her red jeans, and there was blood on her abraded skin. “Better get you to the hospital and have you checked out.”
She looked like she was going to object, then glanced at him from under her long lashes. “You might be right,” she said, cradling the hand he’d released. “Will you take me? I don’t think I can drive.”
