Teague

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Teague Page 4

by Juliana Stone


  Her big brown eyes regarded him for a few moments. “Are you going to buy me a drink or what?”

  Guess they were going to do the dance.

  Teague offered a smile. “If you’re thirsty.”

  “I am.”

  “Beer okay?”

  “You remember.”

  He didn’t remember much past a couple of hot nights spent in her bed a few Christmases past, but if she wanted to think he was up on her likes and dislikes, so be it.

  Teague stopped long enough to ask Josiah’s new friend Michelle what she would like and then headed to the bar. A few locals who knew his family well nodded his way but he didn’t engage. He wasn’t in the mood for small talk.

  He glanced back at the woman waiting for him and was rewarded with a look he knew all too well. He didn’t have to go home alone—not if he didn’t want to. Maybe a hot night with a willing body was exactly what he needed to ease him out of the funk he was in. If he kept himself busy in the bedroom, it meant less time to lie in the dark and think.

  Less time to contemplate the past—the horror of it all—and his screwed up need to reconnect to it. It was all he knew. Too bad all he knew would eventually get him killed.

  He ordered a round of drinks and headed back, intent on getting the niceties out of the way so that he could take Candace back to his place and lose himself inside her.

  The band was on break and things were a little quieter as Teague and the others dug into their second round of drinks. Josiah had brought back a large helping of ribs and the four of them sampled the garlic and dry rub.

  They were good—good but messy. Teague grabbed a napkin to clean his hands and when he glanced up, he caught sight of two very blue and distinct eyes watching him intently. He ignored her, grabbed another rib and finished it. But when he glanced back, she was still watching him. Still alone.

  Morgan.

  With a frown, Teague straightened and tossed his dirty napkin into the garbage can beside their table, his eyes not leaving the little girl’s. She was in a yellow sundress and the front of it was stained from ribs.

  And once again Sabrina was nowhere in sight.

  “Is that—“ Josiah asked.

  “Yeah,” Teague replied. “I got this.” Weaving through the crowd he didn’t take his eyes off her until he reached her. Morgan clutched at the rope that encircled the beer tent and smiled, cocking her head to the side.

  “Who’s that lady?”

  Teague glanced over his shoulder. “Her name is Candace.” The redhead was watching him intently—as was Josiah—and Teague swung his gaze back to the little girl.

  “Is she your girlfriend?”

  “Nope.”

  “Is she Mr. Josiah’s girlfriend?”

  “Nope.”

  “Oh.” Morgan looked puzzled for about two seconds. “So she’s just your friend?”

  “I guess you could say that.” Teague looked over Morgan’s head. “You in trouble again?”

  She shook her head. “No. Mommy told me to hold on to this rope and not to let go. She said that if anyone tried to take me to scream at the top of my lungs.”

  “So where is your mother?” Teague asked.

  “Well,” she said with a giggle. “Harry ate way too many ribs. I tolded him he was going to get sick but he didn’t listen. And then he puked on Mommy and on her shoes and she had to take him to the bathroom right there to clean up.” Morgan pointed to the porta-potty a few feet away. He noticed that she kept one hand on the rope and something about that made him smile.

  “So you’re behaving yourself,” he said, shoving his hands into the front pockets of his jeans.

  Morgan nodded, her eyes serious as she gazed up at him. “Mommy was really mad we left the house this morning without waking her up.”

  “She was scared.”

  “She said that if we ever do it again, we’re grounded until we go home.”

  “Sounds about right.”

  Morgan’s eyes widened. “And she said that we weren’t supposed to bug you again. Not even once.”

  “Huh.” That was a little extreme and for whatever reason it irritated the hell out of him.

  “She said that you wasn’t used to little kids like us and that you probably found us annoying.”

  Okay. Teague was annoyed but not for the reason Sabrina thought. “She said that?”

  Morgan nodded, both hands on the rope as she started to swing from it. “Do you find us annoying Tigger?”

  God this kid was direct.

  “No. Not annoying. Maybe a little loud.”

  Morgan snorted at that. “We’re kids, silly. We’re supposed to be loud. My daddy used to say it was one of the rules. He had a lot of rules but they were all fun. Like he used to say it wasn’t a good day until we were all dirty and tired.”

  “Your father sounds like he was a smart man.”

  “He was really smart. He’s probably teaching little kids in heaven.” Her eyes swept down and his gut tightened. “That’s what he used to do here. He was a teacher. The best one ever.”

  Morgan’s hands slipped from the rope and she would have skinned her knees but good, if not for Teague. He bent down and got hold of her just in time to prevent a tumble and she surprised the crap out of him when her little arms wrapped around his neck tightly.

  “Thank you Tigger,” she whispered against his cheek. “You saved my life just like the prince on my favorite show.”

  She leaned back and put her hands on either side of his face and damn if he didn’t think that maybe she was the cutest little girl he’d ever seen. Considering he didn’t much care for kids, that said a lot.

  Teague cleared his throat gruffly and carefully extricated himself from her clutches. “Let’s check on your mother.”

  He’d no sooner said the words than Sabrina appeared with a pasty white Harry in tow. To say that she was surprised to see him with her daughter would be an understatement. She opened her mouth to say something but then closed it, eyes on her daughter.

  “Morgan, I told you not to let go of the rope.”

  “I didn’t.” She skipped over to her mother and grabbed her hand. “But I fell and Tigger saved me. I would have had a big ouchie, but he saved me.”

  “Please don’t call him that,” Sabrina said, glancing up at Teague. “I’m sorry. It’s rude. I know.”

  He stood back, hands once more in the front pockets of his jeans. “I don’t mind.” The three of them were on the other side of the rope and for a few seconds he allowed himself a gentle perusal.

  Sabrina wore a simple sundress. White with little yellow flowers. It was wholly feminine with a skirt that floated in the breeze and the fitted top enhanced her slight curves. Her dark hair fell to just past her shoulders, the long waves shiny. She didn’t wear much makeup, a hint of gloss on her lips, a touch of shadow across her eyes, but then she didn’t need it.

  The woman was a natural beauty and the simplicity of her attire only enhanced it.

  And she smelled good. Honeysuckle? Maybe?

  Surprised at the direction his thoughts were going, Teague cleared his throat and took a step back.

  “Hey, you almost knocked me over.” The voice was behind him and belonged to Candace.

  Teague turned to her. “Sorry I was just talking to my neighbor.”

  “Sabrina!” Candace slid into his side, her arm linking through his. “Your kids are adorable. I don’t think I’ve seen them since they were much younger.”

  “You guys know each other?” Teague asked.

  “Sure,” Candace replied. “Sabrina and I went to high school together.” Candace’s forehead furrowed. “Hey, didn’t you and Josiah date?”

  “Ah briefly,” Sabrina replied, an embarrassed flush creeping up her neck.

  “Anyway your kids are gorgeous.”

  “Thank you,” Sabrina murmured, nodding to Josiah who’d now joined them.

  “Is he okay?” Josiah asked, glancing at the still-silent Harry.

>   Sabrina took a step back. “He will be once I get him home. Too many ribs.”

  “He puked,” Morgan said. “On Mommy.”

  “Gross,” the blonde with Josiah whispered.

  An awkward silence fell between then and then Sabrina nodded to Teague. “Once again, thanks for looking out for my kids. I promise you, we’re not always this unorganized.”

  Morgan tugged on her hand and whispered loud enough for all of them to hear. “He told me that we’re not annoying.”

  “Wonderful,” Sabrina said tightly, before giving him a nod. “I hope you guys have a great night.”

  Teague watched until she disappeared among the throngs of people on the boardwalk.

  “Wow,” Michelle said. “That right there is the perfect form of birth control. Puke? Ugh. I’d rather run my nails down a chalkboard.”

  “Really, Michelle?” Candace said. “Don’t you think you’re overreacting? They were adorable.”

  Teague shot the blonde a look that had her apologizing and looking like the idiot she was. With a shrug, Josiah grabbed her arm and led her back to their table. Teague watched them go—that restless feeling back in his gut. The band was about to hit the stage again and he felt as jumpy as a cat surrounded by a pack of dogs.

  He’d had enough.

  Teague turned to the woman beside him. “Are we going to your place or mine?” He wasn’t going to dance any longer.

  If Candace was shocked by his boldness, she sure as hell didn’t show it. A heartbeat passed and then she licked her lips, pulling him toward the parking lot. “Did you drive?”

  “Sure did.”

  “Good,” she said, snuggling into his side. “My sister is in town crashing at my house, so your place?”

  Teague didn’t bother to answer. He had Candace in his truck and was on his way to the cottage in less than ten minutes. By the time they reached his place, it was dark but before he headed inside, Teague glanced over to Sabrina’s home. There was a light in the kitchen window and another from the family room. Other than that, the place was quiet.

  He linked his hand through the willing female’s fingers and pulled Candace into the cottage and up the stairs to his bedroom. Clothes fell by the wayside and he had her naked, on all fours, and bent over his bed before he’d attempted to doff his jeans. There was no foreplay—he wasn’t in the mood.

  And bastard that he was, Teague didn’t bother taking off his pants. He grabbed a condom from the table beside his bed, undid his fly and seconds later was buried deep inside the woman on his bed.

  She was wet and ready and already moaning, gasping his name as he drove into her. He wished she would shut the hell up.

  Teague went through the motions of sex. It had been a while and sure it felt good, he couldn’t deny that, but it was an empty kind of good. It was like tearing the foil from the most decadent piece of chocolate, only to find that it wasn’t what you wanted after all. It didn’t satisfy his need.

  But how could it? He had no idea what it was that he needed.

  As Teague rode the woman to orgasm, he caught sight of himself in the mirror above the dresser. There was no pleasure in his face. No release.

  There was nothing.

  He came and rolled over onto the bed, finally kicking off his jeans and boots. Candace snuggled up against him. “Okay, I’m all for quick and dirty but next time, we take it slower.”

  Next time? Shit. He wanted her to leave. Right now.

  Teague closed his eyes and stifled a groan. Most men would be all over his situation. Hell, he’d have been all over this situation not that long ago and gone for round two as soon as his body was able.

  What the hell was wrong with him?

  But he knew. The ghosts that lingered along the edges of his mind would never leave him alone. They stared back at him when he looked in a mirror, slept beside him at night and kept him company along with Mr. Jack Daniels.

  They understood what had happened over there. They never let him forget. And someone like Candace would never be able to handle his shit.

  He was pretty sure that no one could.

  Chapter Six

  Two days passed before Sabrina saw Teague again.

  Her last sighting had been Friday night when he’d pulled Candace from his truck and dragged the voluptuous redhead into his cottage to do…

  Well, it was obvious what they were going to do. And it was obviously none of her business. If he wanted to bring a woman back to his place, he could. As far as she knew, he was single and that’s what single people did.

  They met people. They connected. And they had sex. Probably lots of sex. Lots of hot sweaty sex. So good for him. No reason for her to get bent out of shape over it.

  So Monday morning found Sabrina sitting on the dock while the kids were splashing about at the edge of the lake. They ran back and forth onto the beach and filled the holes they’d dug with buckets of water. Honestly, she had no idea how such a simple act could keep them engrossed for so long, but she’d take it. The book she’d been trying to read lay beside her and Sabrina gritted her teeth as the “song of summer” erupted from her iPod. Hell, she didn’t even know the title of the song and whoever thought that playing the same song once every forty minutes was a good idea should be fired.

  Her daughter was singing along—totally unaware that her ability to sing on key was non-existent—when something made Sabrina pause. Shading her eyes, she glanced around and spied Teague on his deck looking down at her. She jerked her head back so fast it was a miracle she didn’t snap it.

  Her heart started up and she knew that her pale cheeks were no longer creamy white, but stained a nice shade of pink. An image of him and Candace snuck into her mind and she swallowed. Hard. What the hell?

  Doing anything but looking back up there, Sabrina tapped her bare toe against the dock as if she was actually digging the stupid song. After a few minutes, she ventured a peek over the brim of her sunglasses, but he was gone.

  Clearing her throat, she reached for her lemon water and took a good long drink, eyes on her kids, but not really seeing them.

  She was restless but didn’t know what she wanted to do. And that wasn’t a good omen considering she was staring at the beginning of a long summer on the lake. When Brent was around, there was always something on the go. Her husband had loved the outdoors and he loved sharing it with their kids even more. The fact that his job allowed him the summer off to come up here with his family had been his dream.

  Brent.

  That old familiar ache grabbed her hard, but she refused to wallow in it. She couldn’t wallow in it.

  “Mommy, I’m hungry.”

  Because it was time for lunch.

  “Wash your hands from the tap inside the boathouse.” Sabrina watched the twins scamper up the dock and disappear inside and while they were cleaning up, she unpacked the cooler she’d brought down.

  Morgan grumbled about tuna sandwiches while Harry was thrilled she’d taken the time to cut up some cucumber. They each grabbed a juice box and argued about what was better, pineapple punch (Harry) or straight-up strawberry (Morgan). As far as Sabrina could tell, neither one of them won the argument, though she was pretty sure they’d each think they’d won.

  The three of them were just finishing up when Teague stepped onto the dock.

  He was shirtless with low slung cargoes that showed an expressive span of skin below his bellybutton, and big ass work boots. Was it weird that her first thought was he looked good?

  “What are those things?” Morgan stood up and pointed at Teague. There were scars puckered along his abdomen and several more across his chest. Some were old and faded, but others were raw and angry looking.

  Mortified, Sabrina sprang to her feet. “Morgan!” Her eyes flew to Teague. “I’m sorry, she’s always saying the first thing that pops into her head.”

  Mirrored aviators covered his eyes so she couldn’t gage his reaction, but he shrugged and shoved his hands into his front pockets, turni
ng to her daughter.

  “They’re scars.”

  “Oh,” Harry said, getting to his feet and walking toward Teague. “Do they hurt?”

  Teague shook his head. “Not anymore.”

  “How did you get them?” Morgan asked.

  “I…” Teague paused. “I was doing my job and there was…an accident.”

  “What’s your job?” Harry asked.

  A heartbeat passed.

  “Harry, my line of work isn’t exactly easy to explain.”

  Sabrina watched Teague closely. She didn’t know much about what had happened to him overseas—only what she’d seen on television—but she knew it hadn’t been good. A former Seal, he’d been in Syria when he’d disappeared with several other men. What exactly it was they were doing over there had been speculated on but never confirmed.

  Some reports had said it was some sort of secretive military mission, while others reports ranged from humanitarian to intelligence, to a film documentary.

  The details were sketchy but what couldn’t be denied was that they’d been held captive for several days and all but one had been rescued and returned to American soil. What happened to the remaining man had never been revealed—at least as far as Sabrina knew.

  “Guys,” Sabrina interjected. “It’s time for a nap.”

  At her words, the twins turned from Teague, their protests automatic and well prepared. But Sabrina wasn’t having any of it. They were only six (though not officially for a few more weeks) and had been up at the crack of dawn. Most of that time had been spent on the beach, in the water and sun. They’d never make dinner unless they had a nap.

  “Inside.” Her tone brooked no argument and after the expected second round of pleas, Morgan and Harry headed up to the cottage.

  “Did you want…” Sabrina pointed to the uneaten sandwiches.

  “I’m good.” Teague motioned toward the Simon gazebo on the other side of the beach. “I just thought I’d warn you that I’ve got some repairs to do so it might get noisy.”

 

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