Rescue Me: A Bad Boy Military Romance
Page 7
I laugh. Clarence is the town’s oldest living resident. He’s nearly one hundred years old, a war veteran, and walks with a stoop. I say hi to people as I push my way toward the wooden dance floor where I keep seeing flashes of Ella’s red hair. I’m nearly there when I feel a cold hand on my arm. “Luke Davis, as I live and breathe,” slurs a high-pitched voice. I groan internally.
“Amy Waters,” I reply. “Drunk as ever, I see.”
She has a sloppy grin on her face and a beer in her hand. Her denim jacket sleeves are rolled up, and her fake cleavage is pushed together out of the top of her flowered dress. “You are such a tease, Luke,” she says, patting her voluminous hair.
“And you are married, Amy. Where is that asshole husband of yours, anyway?” I ask.
She rolls her eyes. “Probably banging the nanny in the bathroom. Like I care,” she adds darkly, sipping her bottle of Corona. Some of it dribbles down her face and I see tears forming behind her eyes.
I sigh and take her by the elbow. “Let’s get you sat down somewhere with a glass of water,” I say to her. I spot some of her friends and we weave our way over to them. “Will you take care of this? Make sure she doesn’t wander into traffic like a stray fucking puppy,” I say.
A few of them sigh, and Vicky Martinez shrugs. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Yeah, continue being such great friends to her,” I say sarcastically, leaving Amy behind with her head in her hands. I fish a bottle of water out of a massive tailgating cooler and unscrew it. Several more people shout out a greeting.
My head is a little fuzzy and I suddenly remember I forgot to eat when I took my pills. I shake my head and walk back over to Amy, setting down the dripping water bottle and sliding the beer bottle out of her fingers. She’s so drunk she doesn’t protest.
“Make sure she drinks this, alright?” I say to her friends. They wave me away and get back to their conversation.
Satisfied that I’ve done all I could, I wander back to the dance floor, my heart beating. I see Ella’s red hair in the middle of the crowd; she’s still dancing with Clarence, who is determined to shuffle her around the dance floor. I’m within a foot of tapping her on the shoulder when the DJ, who also runs the diner here in town, comes over the speakers.
“All right, y’all. You know what time it is! It’s time for some boot scootin’ boogie!”
The crowd immediately gets into line-dancing formation and I’m forced three rows back from Ella as Brooks and Dunn blare out of the speakers. I start shuffling my feet, knowing that if I violate the laws of line dancing I’ll be publicly shamed. The crowd is clapping and tapping their feet and I move with my line of people. I see my chance to move up a row and I take it. I grab the shoulders of a teenage football player in front of me. “Swap,” I say.
He looks at me, panicked. “Y-y-yes sir,” he says, moving back a row. I grin to myself and join back in the dancing. I’ve moved up one row of people. Ella’s six places over from me in the front row. I see who’s in front of me and realize I’ve got another easy target in the woman who owns the grocery store. I wink at her as she turns around and I yell to her over the music.
“Swap places with me?” I ask.
She grins. “Anything for you, Luke.”
I twirl her around in time with the music and assume the position. Ella is one row up but six people over. I manage to twirl, swing, and bribe my way within two spaces of her. I actually end up slipping a twenty to an enterprising kid I recognize from the youth group I lead at church. Now there’s only one person left. My target nearly acquired, I groan. It’s Michael Evans – Amy Waters’ husband - who would rather I beat him up than do anything for me as a favor.
“Swap with me,” I say, trying to sound as commanding as I can while also doing this ridiculous line dance.
He laughs in my face, turning and clapping in time with the music. I turn my back on him and contemplate just knocking him out right here in front of all these people. I can smell Ella’s shampoo all the way over here. I’m so fucking close. “Seriously, man. Fucking switch with me,” I say. “I was just cleaning up your drunk-off-her-ass wife a minute ago. You owe me.”
“I don’t owe you shit, Davis!” Michael yells back with a greedy grin on his face. The music’s nearly ending and I know what always follows this song, because the DJ is as predictable as his breakfast menu that hasn’t changed in fifty years. The music stops and the line breaks up, the strains of LeeAnn Womack’s “I Hope You Dance” bleating out. Michael blocks me with his body and holds out his hand to Ella.
She doesn’t look impressed, but she sees me over his shoulder and looks giddy at the opportunity to piss me off. She accepts his offer to dance and I’m left alone as people pair up around me. Then I see one of the church ladies who always bring me a casserole looking wistfully across the dance floor. I need a partner if I’m going to stay on the dance floor and hope to get in on the next song with Ella.
“May I have this dance?” I ask Michelle, whose lightly wrinkled face lights up.
“Of course, Luke!” she says, and I lead her out on the dance floor, taking her pudgy, ring-covered fingers into my hand. I maneuver her through the people to get as close as I can to Ella and Michael. Ella’s laughing at something he just said and I feel my stomach turn over.
“You get a chance to dance with Ella yet?” Michelle asks me, staring where I am.
“Not yet. I was a little late,” I say.
“She was looking for you earlier tonight,” she says with grin. “Kept asking when you were going to get here. I wouldn’t give up hope just yet.”
I spin her around with a smile. “When have you known me to give up on anything?”
Michelle laughs. “I don’t know. That old house just might be the end of you. Plenty of people before you have tried to restore it and given up.”
I shake my head. “Nah. It’s met its match in me. You just wait until it’s all done. I’ll host the biggest party this town’s ever seen.”
Michelle laughs and we spend the rest of the song discussing my plans for my mansion. The music ends and Michelle pushes me away. “You go get your girl, son.”
I run over to Ella and swoop her into my arms before she has a chance to protest. It’s another slow song, thank fuck. “Finally,” I say to her, smiling.
She grimaces at me, but there’s fire behind her eyes. I can see it. “You were late,” she says. “I was starting to think you weren’t coming.”
I pull her closer to me and she doesn’t protest. I like the way her warm body feels against mine. “A promise is a promise,” I say to her.
“Like you promised me you wouldn’t join the military?”
I bite my cheek. I was hoping to avoid this topic for as long as possible. “That was a long time ago, Ella.” But I see pain in her eyes and I know I’ve put it there. The thought of that makes me want to go find Michael and use him as a cathartic punching bag. There’s nothing left for me to do but change the subject. “How’d the paint look tonight? Did it dry yet?”
Ella sighs and I’m glad we can avoid the painful shit for another few minutes at least. I know I can’t put it off forever, but I’m going to damn well try. “It’s still not dry. It’s all this humidity.”
“It’ll happen. Just give it another day or two. You’ve gotta be patient.”
She laughs. “Since when have I been patient?”
“You got me there.” She’s relaxing in my arms and it feels like heaven to me. “You have an opening date yet?”
“Saturday my supplies come. So I’m opening up shop on Monday,” she says. “The phone company comes tomorrow to hook everything up. I’m guessing I’ll have a steady influx of people right away.” She looks around at everyone. “Tanya’s been taking down a waiting list. It’s like this town’s been waiting for me to come back.”
“The town’s not the only thing that’s been waiting for you,” I whisper to her.
She turns bright red and opens her mouth with a
smile. “I was hoping-“
That’s when the blaring sirens go off around us, and a few people scream. Chills run down my body, and Ella freezes. The DJ cuts the music. “Everyone in the basement, nice and slow and orderly,” he says, but his voice is shaking.
It’s tornado season in Central Texas.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
ELLA
I’m frozen in my tracks and it’s like the world has slowed down around me. I’m vaguely aware that my ears are ringing, and I feel the soft fabric of people passing by me, buffeting my body. I’m squeezing Luke’s hands and I’m aware of him speaking to me. But I can’t hear him. He lets go of my hands and I cry out “No!” without meaning to.
“Ella, Ella. Look at me. Look at me.” I shake my head and my ears clear, and Luke has grabbed my shoulders and bent down to meet my eyes. “It’s okay. The basement’s just over there. You’re okay. But we gotta move, alright?”
“Don’t let go of my hand,” I whisper back to him, fear coursing through my body. He grabs my hand and leads me toward the stairs. We queue up behind the few remaining people and descend underground. I can smell the earth and the vague scent of mildew. A rickety lightbulb hands in the middle of the ceiling, the earthen walls filled with thin roots. Somebody’s put up studs and started paneling the walls, but they haven’t made it far.
Tanya comes rushing over to us and hugs me. “It’s alright, baby girl,” she says. “Storm’s pretty far away and looks like it’s going to miss us by a wide mile.”
The hum of conversation around me somehow makes its way into my ears, down to the middle of my chest where my fear is sitting and clears it up. I realize that I’m still holding Luke’s hand. I still don’t let it go. He makes me feel safe, and he’s clearly not in a hurry to leave me. He steers my body to a rickety chair and offers it to me. “Sit,” he says.
I shake my head. “No thanks, I’d rather stand up.” I’m biting my lip and my heart is still pounding. Someone turns on a weather radio and the feedback shrieks through the underground space. A few people yell from the discomfort of the noise.
“Sorry!” says the radio operator. Everyone shushes everyone else and I hear the weatherman’s voice.
“…stormchasers indicating the storm is headed toward the Buxwell area. It’s an F3 at this point…”
The noise around me falls back to a ringing sound. Luke squeezes my hand and whispers in my ear. He’s all I can hear right now. “It’s been awhile since you’ve been through this. Storms change track all the time. All the time. You remember that? How many times were we on the phone with each other across town and you swore a storm was coming right for you? And how many times did it change?”
“All but once,” I say. And here are the tears that have been pushing at me all this time, threatening to spill over and swallow me whole.
“You will be fine, Ella,” he whispers again, his breath hot on my ear. Suddenly I’m not afraid anymore. Suddenly I just want to be wrapped up in his muscular arms, the rainy smell of his skin bathing me, washing me, rinsing me clean. I want his lips on mine. I want Luke.
“It’s moving!” someone yells. “They say it’s going east of here.”
There’s no one and nothing east of here. Everyone sighs with relief. Alexa runs over to me, Teddy in her arms. He’s asleep, his lanky body lax and breathing slowly. “This kid sleeps through everything,” she says with a smile.
“You okay?” I ask her, pulling my hand away from Luke’s.
She nods. “Barely. I only just got here when the sirens went off. Sky went from clear to green and cloud-filled in about five seconds. It’s gonna be a bad season, Ella. That’s what everyone’s saying.”
I nod, trying to push her words out of my head. Her eyes go wide when she realizes what she’s just told me.
“Oh. Ella. I’m sorry I didn’t mean-“
I shake my head. “I’m fine. Just something to get used to again, that’s all. We don’t really have tornadoes out in California. That’s all.”
Alexa looks skeptically at Luke. “Alright,” she replies.
Luke grazes his fingers over my shoulder. “You want to head back upstairs? Everyone else is.”
I swallow and shake my head. “I’m not much feeling like a party. I’m kind of tired.”
Alexa smiles. “I hate to be a downer but I need to get Teddy home. He’s tired after his playdate, obviously. I’ll drive you. You can toss your bike in the back.”
I nod and look up at Luke, who seems disappointed. Alexa looks at both of us and claps her hand over her mouth. “Oh, actually, if Luke wants to drive you-“
I shake my head. “No, it’s fine. He only got here a bit before you did,” I say. Suddenly I’m not eager to be alone with Luke, my latent feelings for him seeming like a glaring mistake now that the emergency has passed us.
Alexa mouths a “Sorry” at Luke and heads upstairs.
I stay behind with Luke for a moment, feeling awkward. “I gotta go,” I say, suddenly nervous.
“You don’t want to be alone with me? Am I really that bad?” he asks, a playful smile on his lips.
I push a curl off of my forehead. “Thank you – for…you know. The storm. Getting me down here. I really appreciate it.” I pull at the hem of my dress.
Luke nods. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” he replies. “That AC part should be here in the morning.”
I nod and swallow, feeling awkward. “Alright. I’ll see you then, I guess.”
Luke leans down to kiss me and I pull away from him, running up the stairs in my impractical heels. As I lay in bed that night, staring at the low ceiling above me, all I can think about is what could have happened if I’d only let him take me home tonight.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
LUKE
ELEVEN YEARS AGO
I struggle for at least ten minutes trying to get my bowtie tied; I’m feeling ridiculous in my rented tux. I wander into my grandparents’ old bedroom, wishing that my grandpa were still here to do this for me. Maybe if I stand in this space, I’ll get some sort of cosmic assistance from both of them.
It’s magical thinking, but I’m nervous about tonight.
I’m never nervous.
But Ella’s making me that way.
I finally finish and wander through the old house, everything unchanged in the months since both of my grandparents passed. I reach for the keys to my truck and take one final look in the mirror.
“You’ve got this, Davis,” I say to my reflection.
I twirl my keys around my finger and head out the door, trying my best not to speed toward Ella’s place.
I ring the doorbell and take a step back. Rachel Hanover, Ella’s mom, always intimidates me. She answers the door with a stern look on her face. “Luke,” she says. “Ella’s nearly ready. Come on inside.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Hanover,” I say, somehow managing to keep my throat from cracking. I walk into their bright, cheery double wide. It’s immaculate and the walls are covered with pictures of Ella through the years.
I perch nervously on the beige sofa in the living room. Mrs. Hanover calls out from the kitchen. “Anything to drink? Lemonade? Water? Tea? Whiskey?” She ducks her head out of the kitchen. There’s a wry smile on her lips. “Careful how you answer that, young man.”
I guffaw, thankful that she was kidding. “I don’t drink, Mrs. Hanover. I’ll take some water, though.”
She smiles wryly. “Good answer.”
I hear footsteps padding down the carpeted hallway and Ella appears. She takes my breath away. Her hair has been pulled and heated into slick, straight strands. Her eyes sparkle with dark eyeliner and a swish of shimmery tan eye shadow. Her lips are covered in a light pink gloss that enhances them perfectly. And her dress is emerald green and sparkling, a strapless design with a knee-length puff of tulle that makes her look like a fairy.
A really, really sexy fairy.
“Hey,” she says shyly. I stand up and walk quickly over to her, kissing her
on the lips. She pushes me away. “My mom,” she whispers, eyeing the kitchen.
I laugh quietly. “Right. The last thing I want to do is piss off your mother.”
“Good instincts,” Ella whispers back. She laces her fingers in mine and pulls me toward the kitchen. “We’re leaving, Mom.”
Mrs. Hanover turns around to hand me my glass of water. “Head outside for a minute, Ella. I need to talk to Mr. Davis here.”
Ella rolls her eyes and blushes. “Mom, seriously?”
She nods. “Seriously. And you look beautiful, honey.” She walks over and kisses Ella’s cheek, giving her a hug. “Love you.”
“Love you too, Mom.” Ella walks out of the house.
I swallow the entire glass of water and put the glass on the counter. Mrs. Hanover crosses her arms, still looking at me sternly. “Mrs. Hanover, I –“
She smiles at me. “You’ve made my daughter come out of her shell over the last few months,” she says. “I like you, Luke Davis. You take care of her tonight, you hear me?”
I nod. “Yes, ma’am.”
She reaches out to hug me. “Good. I’ll be holding you to that.”
“I believe you will, ma’am,” I reply.
She squeezes my arm. “Go have some fun.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
ELLA
PRESENT DAY
I wake up early the Monday morning after the barbecue, feeling a fluttering excitement and nervousness coursing through my body. I drink my coffee on my front porch, watching the mist rise up as the sun hits the cool plants. My legs are tucked beneath me, and the mug is warm in my hands. Today is the day I practice medicine on my own. Today is the day I see my first patients.
It was awkward between Luke and me when he came to repair the air conditioner. But he wouldn’t give up, even asking me to lunch. I’d come up with administrative excuses regarding the clinic, and proceeded to hide in my house for the rest of the weekend. It was still too painful to see him. I brush my hand over my abdomen, the memories of a long time ago haunting me.