Hero by Night

by Sara Jane Stone

  “I believe I would be a good fit for your security team,” she added.

  The man shook his head. “When I posted the job, inviting veterans to apply, well, I’ll be honest, I expected a man.”

  She bit back the words, After serving on the front lines I think I can handle protecting the gate to your parking lot with a stun gun.

  “I know it sounds like a simple job,” he continued. “But we had someone try to break in and steal a spool of cooper wire. In a truck.”

  Lena blinked. Clearly a man who’d served in the military could have stopped the truck. But a woman could probably only handle a compact car. Because the U.S. armed forces only handed out the stop-­a-­truck-­with-­a-­stun-­gun superpowers if you had a penis.

  “Copper is valuable,” Mr. Shiny Head continued, refusing to look her in the eye. “And right now there are a lot of desperate ­people out there.”

  “I see.” She rose from her chair, refusing to let this man see even a hint of her own anxious need—­not to steal, but to find a job. And maybe rekindle her pride along the way. “Thank you for your time, sir.”

  Her heartbeat raced as she turned to the door. But this time, fear took a backseat to the anger rising up. She needed to get out of here before she said something she might regret. And she wanted Hero by her side. Leaving her dog in the parking lot with Chad no longer seemed like a good call now that she knew she’d never had a shot at impressing this man. Because when Mr. Shiny Head looked at her, he saw a woman first, and a veteran second.

  Lena closed the door behind her, resisting the temptation to slam it, and marched down the hall, her gaze focused on the exit. There had been a time—­back when she wore the uniform and did her job alongside the other men and women willing to sacrifice everything, including their lives, to serve their country—­when the ­people she worked with saw only one thing when they looked at her. Soldier.

  She’d wanted to return to civilian life. She’d dreamed about it. But some days, like today, she missed the sureness of knowing she belonged.

  Lena stepped into the parking lot and spotted Chad sitting in his truck with Hero at his side, the windows rolled down. Both males spotted her at the same time. Hero stood, struggling to maneuver his large body in the front seat, his tail wagging fast and furious, practically shaking the truck.

  “That was fast. How’d it go?” Chad asked as she climbed into the passenger seat. “Did you get the job?”

  “No.” She wrapped her arms around Hero, holding him close, no longer caring if dog hair covered the slacks and button-­down shirt she’d worn for the interview. “When they said veteran, they meant a man.”

  Chad’s smile vanished. His hands gripped the steering wheel, hard, his knuckles turning white. His jaw clenched and his gaze shifted to the door. For a man who claimed he didn’t play the part of the alpha male hero, Chad Summers looked ready and willing to introduce Mr. Shiny Head to his fist.

  Lena tensed, prepared to stop him from fighting her battles. That fell beyond the barriers of their temporary agreement. And even if this were real, she didn’t need him to stand up for her.

  “Tell me something, Lena,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “Can you do this job? Are you qualified?”

  “Yes.”

  “Would it scare you to be out here late at night?” he challenged. “Would you need Hero at your side?”

  “I never had a chance to mention Hero.” She ran her hand over the dog’s soft coat. “But no, I’m not afraid.”

  Because sometimes need trumped fear. And she needed this job. She needed to feel as if she could take a meaningful step forward.

  He nodded, leaning back, releasing his death grip on the wheel. “Then it’s a good thing you haven’t given up on yourself isn’t it?”

  Her hand moved to the door, determination rising. She’d fought, dammit. She’d run into the fire. She’d done her job. And she could do this one.

  Lena opened the truck door and stepped down, waiting for Hero to follow. “I’m going back in there.”

  Chad smiled and she swore she saw pride in his easygoing, charm-­your-­pants-­off expression. “Damn right you are.”

  Standing tall, she marched past the parked cars, Hero at her side. Maybe she couldn’t change the manager’s mind. Maybe he’d throw her and her dog out. But she refused to walk away feeling somehow less than the men she’d served with because she was a woman.

  CHAD HAD A list a mile long of what made a woman sexy. But right now, watching Lena march into that jackass’s office, determination topped the chart. It outshone the natural beauty that could have landed her on the pages of a magazine—­at least in his opinion. And yeah, maybe he was reading the wrong kinds of magazines to make a solid judgment, but right now, it didn’t matter. When Lena had every reason to quit, she’d gone back inside, determined to fight.

  “That’s my girl,” he murmured to the empty car.

  For a split second, he’d debated going in there and throwing a few punches. But this was Lena, the woman who’d pushed forward, fighting her way toward the life she wanted when others had written her off. If she could survive two tours in Afghanistan—­which was a helluva lot more than his zero—­she could take on some paper-­pushing jerk. She didn’t need him to fight her battles.

  Chad stared at the door leading into the office building as that realization sank in. Lena didn’t need him. That was a good thing, wasn’t it? No strings, no promises, a cut-­and-­dried deal—­

  The door swung open and Lena marched out, Hero at her side. Long hair flowing behind her, her stride strong and sure, an I-­just-­kicked-­some-­ass expression on her face—­most guys would run for the hills. But Chad just stared.

  He waited until she opened the truck door and climbed inside behind Hero before he asked, “How’d it go?”

  “I made it clear to him that I don’t accept failure as an option,” she said, buckling her belt. “And I may have mentioned the Silver Star.”

  “So he’s star-­struck now, huh?” Chad turned the key and put the truck in reverse.

  “Maybe,” she said with a small smile. “Either way, I got the job. It’s only part-­time for now. Four nights a week, starting on Friday. ”

  “But it’s a start.” He steered the truck down the main road. “Ready to celebrate?”

  “Depends on what you have planned.”

  “If you don’t like it, we can leave at anytime,” he said, handing her his cell phone. “Do me a favor and call Georgia. Tell her we’re on our way. She’ll need to meet us at the gate. We can’t get in without a member.”

  Lena touched the screen and scrolled through the numbers. “We’re going to a country club?”

  “Independence Falls doesn’t have a country club, Lena. We’re going to the Willamette Valley Gun Club.”

  Her brow furrowed as she held the phone to her ear. “You want to show off the fact that can I shoot?”

  “No.” He glanced over at the beautiful blonde in his passenger seat sitting tall and proud. “This is not part of the charade. This is for you. Because you went in there and you got the job.”

  Chad focused on the road, his jaw tight. Lena’s new boss had no idea. When he’d offered the position, the jackass behind the desk had opened doors for her, and allowed her to reclaim herself.

  “You did it, Lena.” Chad accelerated down the empty road. “And I’m so damn proud of you.”

  Chapter 13

  “WE WOULD NEED to stay behind the ready line,” Georgia said, pointing to the yellow strip of paint on the cement floor about four feet behind a large, thick red line. Lena had jumped at the chance to shoot first, quickly selecting a pair of “ears” and “eyes,” the protective gear required at the gun range. “But we can go out there and watch her.”

  “I’m fine to wait here.” Chad nodded to the bulletproof glass separating the range from t
he spectators’ area.

  Georgia raised an eyebrow. “If you’ve given Lena a reason to point her revolver at you, we need to talk, Chad Summers. I’m not a marksman, so I’m guessing I’m not as good a shot as Lena, but I excel at hand-­to-­hand combat.”

  He glanced at the petite, brown-­haired woman standing beside him. Growing up in the same town, he’d known Georgia most of his life. And he’d never thought of her as threatening—­until now. Was it sending them into a war zone, training them to fight alongside men that brought out the fierce warrior in these women, or had the strength been there all along? he wondered.

  “Shooters to the line,” the range safety officer called from the other side of the window.

  Lena stepped up to the red line, her gaze focused on the target in the distance. He suspected she’d always been strong. Serving her country gave her a way to show the world that she was a fighter. And a survivor.

  “I’m doing my best not to hurt her,” he said. “I want to be her friend, Georgia.”

  “Good.” Georgia folded her arms across her chest. “She came here to find a better future for herself. Something more than the mess she left behind in Portland.”

  “Grass is greener on the other side and all that?”

  Georgia nodded. “I want to make sure she finds what she is looking for. I know what it is like to come home and feel at loose ends. But for her it’s worse.”

  “Because of her ex and her family,” he murmured. The ­people who had given up on her.

  But did the unknown on the other side promise a better future? He wouldn’t know. His mother had never sent him a postcard from her new home after she’d run out on her family in search of greener pastures. For all he knew it was brown and barren.

  And he’d never been one to walk away. When the going got tough—­losing his father, watching his family’s business slide toward financial ruin—­he stayed, rooted to the one place he’d always called home. He stayed because he’d been the one left behind by a person searching for that something better, and it hurt like hell.

  “Make ready,” the range officer called.

  Lena loaded her revolver, her movements quick and efficient. Would she find what she was looking for here? Or would she move on again? If she left town, it would be easier to end the relationship designed to fool his friends, and even his family.

  But looking at Lena, and remembering the triumph in her bright blue eyes when she’d marched out of that office building earlier, he didn’t want easy.

  “Ready on the right,” the officer called, scanning the line. The man in charge of the range paused, his gaze lingering on Lena. She was new. Of course the range officer would pay her extra attention.

  And she was flat-­out gorgeous.

  “Ready on the left,” the officer called. Chad searched his memory, trying to recall if he’d met the guy before.

  “What’s his name?” he asked Georgia, nodding to the tall, blond man with the broad shoulders. And when the hell had he ever noticed another man’s freaking shoulders before?

  “Who?” Georgia asked.

  “Commence firing!” the blond-­haired officer called.

  “Him,” Chad said as a series of gunshots rang out. Through the window, he watched Lena hold her arms steady as she fired once, twice, three times at the target. After five shots, she lowered her weapon, removed the empty chamber, and set both pieces on the table. He caught the small smile on her face. But one glance at the range officer and Chad knew he wasn’t the only one looking.

  “Cease firing!” the man called. The gunshots came to an abrupt halt, and he added, “Clear the line!”

  “The guy calling out the instructions out there,” Chad added. “The one looking at Lena.”

  “Oh, that’s Noah. He lives a few towns over. His family owns Big Buck’s, the nightclub near the university. I’ve never been, but Katie can tell you all about it. She took Liam there. Wild place.”

  “He runs a bar and works here?” Chad asked, tracking Noah’s movements as the shooters stepped away from the line, and Noah headed over to the newcomer—­Lena.

  “He volunteers here. The members take turns working as the range safety officer. He’s a marine, I think.”

  “Home on leave?” Chad asked.

  “No, he’s out,” Georgia said as Noah stopped beside Lena, pointing out at the targets. “But once a marine, always a marine.”

  His brow furrowed. “Did she do something wrong?”

  “Lena? I have a feeling she hit the target five times and probably left one hole. He’s probably complimenting her.”

  Lena smiled up at broad-­shouldered Noah. And shit, the man stepped closer. Hero, who’d patiently been waiting at Chad’s side, put his front paws up on the windowsill and barked. Hell, Chad felt like barking too.

  “He needs to move back,” Chad said. “He’s too close to her.”

  Georgia cocked her head to one side. “Chad Summers, are you jealous?”

  “She doesn’t like ­people getting too close,” he said. “You know that. It’s one of her triggers.”

  “I’ll let Hero out.” Georgia moved to the door, the anxious golden retriever following her. “If she starts to panic, he’ll be there for her.”

  “Georgia, wait up,” he said. “What are the rules here? Can you approach her?”

  “We can go to her until the range safety officer calls shooters back to the yellow ready line,” she said. “Why? Are you planning to warn Noah to stay away from Lena?”

  “No.” He scanned the room, spotted the clipboard hung on the wall, and headed over. “I want you to take Lena a note.”

  And remind Lena that she was his.

  Georgia laughed. “Still using the same moves you used in high school?”

  “I only wish I knew half the moves I know now, back when I was a teenager.” He picked up the pen tied to the wall by the sign-­in sheet. Rifling through his wallet, he found an old gas station receipt. He turned it over and started writing.

  LENA GLANCED AT her gun resting beside the empty chamber. She wanted to reload and fire again, but she needed to wait for instructions. Down the line, the other shooters were removing their protective gear, congratulating one another on their performance. She didn’t need anyone to tell her she’d hit the target. When it came to shooting, she didn’t miss. Her pride swelled, and she knew it wasn’t only linked to the five bullets she’d unloaded in the target.

  Earlier, she’d stared failure in the face, and she’d walked away the winner. She’d ridden that high straight to the gun range. She felt at home here. She understood the rules. Holding her revolver, her gaze focused on the target, in that moment the anxiety receded. Maybe it was a lucky guess on Chad’s part, but he’d picked the perfect place to celebrate.

  “Hey there, new girl.”

  Her body shifted from calm and collected to alert in an instant. Looking away from her weapon, she spotted the tall, muscular man who’d called out the commands on the range. The words “Semper Fi” ran down his arm tattooed in red ink. A marine. Telling herself to relax, she smiled up at the man.

  “Hi, I’m here with Georgia Trulane.” She clasped her hands in front of her where he could see them. “If there’s a problem—­”

  “No problem, sweetheart,” he said with a smile that looked as if he’d been studying Chad’s signature panty-­melting grin. “Just wanted to welcome you to the Willamette Valley Gun Club. Either you’re a natural or someone taught you how to take out a target.”

  “My dad,” she said. “And after that West Point.”

  “Oh yeah? Seeing the way you shoot, I think I made a mistake joining the marines. I’m Noah.”

  “Lena.” She nodded to her gun. “I’d like to shoot another round—­”

  “Great job!” A beaming Georgia moved to the marine’s side, resting her hand on his arm a
s Hero pushed past them. The golden retriever stood by her side, his body pressed against her legs as if he wanted to reassure her that he was here for her. But Hero’s gaze was fixed on Noah.

  “I’ll have to bring you back here again,” Georgia continued. “But right now, I think we need to head out. Your boys are getting restless.”

  “My boys?” Lena searched her friend’s face, looking for a clue.

  Georgia nodded to the viewing area where Chad stood with his arms folded across his chest, no sign of his charm-­your-­pants-­off smile. Maybe Noah hadn’t learned the look from Chad. Maybe he’d stolen it.

  Hero dropped the well-­chewed duck and licked her hand, reminding her of her other “boy.”

  “He wanted me to give this to you.” Georgia held out a folded scrap of paper with the local gas station logo on the front.

  Lena unfolded the receipt and read the neatly printed words on the back.

  Take what you need from me, beautiful. Give the orders and I’ll follow you wherever you want to go. But remember when you come, I want to hear you scream my name.

  Heat rose in her cheeks as she quickly folded the paper, hiding his words. She glanced at the window. Chad hadn’t moved an inch, but he wasn’t staring at her now. He was looking at Noah as if he wanted to have a conversation that started with threats and ended with She’s mine.

  But she wasn’t his. It was only an illusion. Chad understood the boundaries, didn’t he? Possession wasn’t part of their pretend relationship.

  Or maybe he was worried she’d jeopardize the charade.

  “I’ll get my gun,” she murmured, picking up the revolver and the box of bullets Georgia had given her when they arrived. After everything Chad had done for her in the past few days, she refused to throw a wrench into their plan. “You’re right, I think the shooting is making Hero nervous.”