What I Fight For: A Bad Boy Military Romance (Easy Team Book 1)

by Gemma Hart

  The man pushed away some of the empty glasses and put down his own beer he was holding. “A person drinks this much, it usually means something really bad or something really good happened,” he said. His dark eyes quietly studied my face, which I tried to arrange into a neutral expression. His gaze softened a bit. “And I think I can guess which one it is.”

  I bit my lip, not wanting to cry. But his gentle voice had suddenly brought tears to my eyes, stinging and raw.

  “No,” I said, my voice tight. “It was something inevitable.”

  Chapter Two

  Cooper

  She looked like a delicate sparrow.

  That was the image that immediately came to mind as soon as I had caught sight of her.

  It was a rare night off after a long mission and I had settled myself for a quiet night of slow boozing to unwind and readjust myself to a place with electricity and running water when I saw her walk in.

  It was her shimmering brown hair that had caught my attention. Falling about half way down her shoulders, it had looked like a soft caramel cloud around her delicately boned face.

  Her slim body was clad in shapeless scrubs. From the exhausted lines of her body and the capable strength her hands seemed to exude, clearly she worked long hours in a hospital. But she looked too damn young to be a doctor. And yet, there was an air of knowledge and authority about her that said she was clearly more than just some front desk receptionist at a clinic.

  So from afar, I had watched her get plied with drink upon drink from her friends, who were clearly making an effort to distract her from something.

  And although her friends thought they were doing a good job in keeping her mind off whatever it was that depressing her, I could see that in fact, it was the girl who was doing her best to make her friends think it was working.

  With every drink, she tried valiantly to smile and to laugh. She encouraged everyone else to relax with her and joked with them when they ordered fruity drinks. Like a little sparrow, she flitted between each friend in conversation, keeping up the song and dance of a night out.

  But the tightness around her eyes never left. The pain was etched in deep.

  And I wanted to crack the neck of whoever had caused this beautiful sparrow like doctor this kind of pain.

  “You know, it’s dangerous to be drinking in a place like this,” I said in casual warning. But it was true. This could be a rough bar and I had been surprised to see a group of scrub clad, squeaky clean hospital folk come in and take a seat.

  The girl blew air through her lips, sending her hair flying off her forehead. I had to repress a smile at how fucking adorable it looked. After a month and a half of jungle dirt and gunpowder and blood, this woman looked like heaven on earth itself.

  “I’m a regular here,” she said with an attempt at coolness. She didn’t quite pull it off since she was swaying a little in her seat. I put a hand on the back of her chair in case I needed to grab her from falling.

  “Oh really?” I said, enjoying myself. “I didn’t know doctors frequented dive bars.”

  She shrugged and gave me something like a slow wink. “Figure we can meet our patients before they come find us.”

  I snorted. It was true. A lot of bar fights broke out at Reggie’s and I had no doubt that this doctor was familiar with quite a few of the faces around here from the ER.

  “Well, doctor or no, it’s not safe to be drinking here especially by yourself. Where’s that little friend that was with you?”

  The girl quickly whirled to look over her shoulder then lost her balance on her seat.

  “Whoa!” she cried out but I grabbed her arm and pulled her forward towards me.

  Then I grabbed the back of the chair and turned her and the chair in my direction, placing them between my knees.

  “Why don’t you stay here for safekeeping?” I said, making sure the table blocked her in on one side. My arm blocked the other. With her so close to me, I could smell a faint whiff of something floral from her hair. My body began to lightly hum in response to the heat of her body.

  But my brain was faster. No way in hell would I be trying anything with a woman who clearly couldn’t even remember her own name at the moment.

  No matter how fucking cute she was.

  “Hey! What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded, trying to wriggle out of her seat.

  I kept my arm where it was, blocking her exit. “I’m keeping you seated in an upright position so that you don’t fall on your face and end up with a concussion.”

  She looked up at me, light brown eyes fringed with dark lashes. They were eyes that could make a man’s heart stop. And at the moment they were giving me a look of profound haughtiness that made it impossible for me not to grin.

  “I’m a doctor,” she said with slow dignity. “I would know how to treat a concussion.”

  I raised a brow in amusement. “You would treat your own concussion?”

  She looked at me as if I was a slow child. “Duh,” she said professionally.

  I swallowed a laugh. “And how might you do that if you were out cold and concussed?”

  She opened her mouth to reply then shook her head. “It’s very medical and scientific,” she said with slurring authority. “You wouldn’t understand.”

  My ribs were starting to ache from how hard I was trying not to laugh when I saw her reach towards the table towards a half empty glass of beer. But before she could take a sip, I plucked it from her little hand.

  “How about we take a breather on the alcohol for now?” I said mildly, putting the glass at the far end of the table.

  She gave me a look of annoyance but before she could say anything, I asked again, “Where’s that friend of yours? She didn’t leave you, did she?”

  I looked at her worriedly. Her friends hadn’t seemed that thoughtless but the group had broken up quite suddenly.

  “She went to get the car,” she said. “On Carmichael!” she added brightly as if proud of herself for remembering that detail.

  Carmichael was a bit of a walk away. But I could see why they might’ve parked there and why her friend would’ve thought this girl safer in a bar than walking the open streets drunk and stumbling.

  I looked down just in time to see the girl reaching for my own drink. I snatched it away. “Hey! Respect a man’s liquor,” I said, taking a healthy gulp of it and then placing the glass far out of reach.

  The woman looked up at me with those eyes again and an exaggerated pout.

  “Hey, this is my pity party,” she said. “I could drink whatever and however much I want.”

  “And what do you need pity for?” I asked teasingly, about to ask if it’s for how good looking she was.

  But before I could say anything more, I saw her face suddenly crumble as she looked down, away from me. “Because he didn’t choose me,” she whispered hoarsely.

  I looked down at her, her slim shoulders slumping forward. Her hair fell down the sides of her face like a shimmering satin curtain. I wanted to pull her head towards me and hold her. I didn’t know her name or who she was but I wanted to hold her close and let her know that whoever he was, he had made the biggest fucking mistake in his life.

  I tucked a finger under her chin and lifted her head up. She tried to resist. I could see the beginnings of tears clinging to her long lashes but I pulled her head up.

  I looked down into her eyes and smiled a little. “Hey, remember this,” I said. “Every time you see a stupid man—and trust me, whoever did this to you is a stupid man—it’s God’s way of showing you that evolution is real. Man had to come from apes and you just met one.”

  My chest eased a little as she choked on a laugh. She wiped a stray tear from her eye.

  “Next time though,” I said, running my thumb across the smooth line of her jaw, “hopefully you’ll meet a man instead.”

  She looked up at me, her eyes peering into my own heart. I could feel her pulse echo through my hand and into my body. Maybe it was
the exhaustion of my last mission, maybe it was the little buzz from the alcohol, maybe it was just being back home, but something was in the air that made me feel like a magnet being drawn against another magnet as I held this woman in my arms.

  It was both irresistible and undeniable.

  But before either of us could say or do anything further, there was a loud crack from behind us as a pool cue was slapped onto the table.

  “You cheating motherfucker!”

  I jerked up and looked over the girl’s head, hearing the roaring curses flying behind us. I could feel the girl twisting under my arm to get a good glimpse of what was happening.

  I had looked up just in time to catch one of the bikers throw a ham fisted punch at another man. “Who do you think you’re cheating here, you goddamn fucking prick!” he shouted.

  The other man swung back. “I ain’t cheated you out of nothing! That was my win!”

  Before anyone could make a move to defuse the situation, the other men around the pool table were shouting and throwing fists as well, creating a loud and raucous brawl.

  I saw Reggie, 6’5 and over 300 pounds, nimbly rush out from the bar as he pulled men away. “What the fuck do you think you guys are doing? Break it up! Break it up!”

  But his voice was drowned out by the half dozen men determined to break a few bones before the end of the night.

  One of the men grabbed a chair in a stroke of inspiration and smashed it against another man. Immediately, I covered the girl with my body, protecting her as broken splinters flew in every direction.

  I immediately pulled her out of her seat and threw her behind me as I walked backwards, pushing her into a far off corner.

  “Stay there!” I shouted over my shoulder before I headed over to help Reggie stop the fight before the whole bar came down around our ears.

  I grabbed a broken chair leg someone was yielding as a club and used the momentum of the man’s attack to push him off towards the wall. He stumbled and hit the ground with a thud.

  Reggie wasn’t pulling back his punches as he knocked out every man in his way, determined to protect his land.

  I was a little more discriminate in where I threw my attacks, making sure just to hit hard enough to wind them and to disable their attacks.

  Within a few short minutes, the men were all down and gasping. I looked around to assess the damage when I heard a gruff wheezing voice cry out, “Fucker cut me! Fucking goddamn fucker! He cut me!”

  I turned around and saw one of the instigators leaning against a wall. He was clad in leather with a long scraggly gray beard and he was huddled over his arm.

  I could see blood pouring through his fingers. Someone must’ve pulled a knife out during the fight. Dirty fucking way to play but nothing you couldn’t expect in a place like this.

  I was about to tell Reggie to throw me a bar towel when I felt a hand push me away.

  “I’m a doctor!” I heard a voice that I knew should be several feet away in a safe corner say.

  With irritation, I looked down to see the doctor kneeling down amidst the debris to tend to the wound.

  “What did I say?” I lectured. “Didn’t I tell you to stay put?”

  There was no way to know this fight was really over. They could rally. And who knew who had the knife? This woman couldn’t just stumble head first towards every emergency that came calling!

  “Shut up,” she said, not looking up. She grabbed the injured arm. “Let go, sir. I need to see how deep the cut is.”

  The man looked at the doctor hesitantly. Although she seemed more alert than she had a few minutes ago (a sudden bar fight could do that for a person), the bar fighter had clearly heard the little slur when she had said, ‘sir.’

  But with no other options, he let go of his arm, revealing a deep and bloody gash that ran about six inches down his forearm.

  The doctor shook her head. “That’ll definitely need stitches. You’ll need to get to the ER. But first, we’ll stop the bleeding.” She looked up at me. “Could you get me a—”

  But before she could finish, Reggie popped out from around my shoulder and threw a ragged but clean looking bar towel at her.

  The doctor grabbed it instinctively although her brows were raised in surprise. “Oh,” she said, clearly not having expected Reggie to be so on top of things. “Thanks.”

  Reggie nodded in surly silence before heading back to his bar. This was obviously a man who had seen more than a handful of bloody wounds in his day.

  The doctor wiped the worst of the blood off with the hem of her scrub. Then she tied the towel tightly around the arm, making a makeshift tourniquet. The man winced.

  Tying off the towel, she propped up his arm on his knee. “Now keep it elevated,” she said. “And then once you feel you’re able to get up, go to the ER. You’ll need to get that disinfected and stitched.”

  The bruised fighter said nothing in response, only glaring at the downed men around him. I gave his foot a good kick. The man yelped as he jerked his injured arm back towards his chest, cradling it.

  “Wanna say thanks to the doc for cleaning you up?” I said, giving him a warning look.

  The man shrugged then sneered. “Why? All she did was give me a towel. It’s not like she cured cancer here,” he said ungratefully.

  Why that little fucker, I was going—

  “Nevermind,” the doctor said, rising to her feet. “That’s always the way it is in emergency cases. Nobody ever—”

  Without warning but with the grace of a swan, the doctor’s eyes rolled back and she fell forward. I caught her easily in my arms.

  With all that alcohol she had consumed, it was no wonder she had passed out. I was amazed she had had enough presence of mind to clean up the wounded man. It was obvious this woman was a competent and well trained doctor.

  I was about to take her back towards the bar when a petite little nurse ran into the bar.

  Her eyes widened as she took in the sight of the broken chairs and the groaning men. But her face practically blanched as she saw her friend unconscious in my arms, blood soaking the hem of her scrubs.

  “Emilia!” she cried as she ran towards me.

  Emilia.

  So that was her name. It suited her. Beautiful and feminine but full of promise.

  “Don’t worry, ma’am,” I said reassuringly. “The blood’s not hers. She’s fine. Just got a little dizzy from all that booze.”

  The nurse didn’t look any less worried but she nodded. She ran a hand over Emilia’s face, brushing back a few caramel colored locks.

  I looked over at the bar. “Hey, Reg,” I called out. “Do you happen to have a pen or a marker on you?”

  Reggie raised a brow before reaching below and pulling out a black marker.

  I carried Emilia over to the bar and grabbed the marker. Then turning to the little nurse who couldn’t have been more than five feet tall, I said, “Tell me where your car is and I’ll help you get her seated.”

  She nodded and I followed her out.

  After carefully getting her settled inside the car, I belted her in and brushed a hand over her cheek, settling her head carefully against the headrest.

  The nurse looked over at me from the driver’s seat. “Thank you for the help,” she said. “I really appreciate it.”

  “No problem,” I said before slapping the roof of the car in goodbye.

  I watched as the little tidy sedan drove off into the night, carrying precious cargo.

  I couldn’t help but grin to myself. It was dumb to hope. Stupid, really. But I had a good feeling about her. And I couldn’t stop myself from looking forward to the next time I would see her again. Emilia was special. She was one of those girls worth looking forward to.

  But before I could turn and head back into the bar, I felt my phone buzz. And it wasn’t my sleek civilian smartphone that I only carried when I was home, off duty. It was the sturdy black flip phone that only rang for one purpose and one purpose only.

  I
sighed before picking it up.

  “Hawk here,” I said.

  “Captain, we’re to report in for a new assignment.”

  I looked up at the smoggy LA night air. Of course there was a new assignment. There always was.

  “Do you know for how long this time?”

  “It’s looking to be about a four month assignment this time.”

  I gave a wry snort. It had been dumb to hope.

  As a mercenary soldier, I lived most of the year out on the field on missions in every part of the planet imaginable.

  There was no way a man like me would ever have a moment of normalcy to pursue a woman like Emilia.

  But maybe that was for the best. It seemed like she was already reeling from a bad heartbreak. Well, mercenaries and heartbreak went hand in hand like peanut butter and jelly.

  She didn’t need a life filled with the kinds of danger that followed me around. She needed a man who would be dependable and reliable and most of all, there when you needed him.

  And I was not that man.

  “Alright,” I said, silently saying goodbye to the woman I hardly knew and the future we might’ve had. “Brief me.”

  Chapter Three

  Emilia

  “Oh my god,” I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut as I rolled over in bed. “Just kill me now, merciful lord.”

  My head pulsed like a nightclub. Every inch of my skull felt like it was being pounded on by fifty drummers. How much had I had to drink last night? However much it was, it was too much by about eighty glasses.

  I rolled onto my side, snuggling closer to my pillow when my eyes sprang open in surprise. I immediately groaned in pain as light flooded my senses but not before seeing the inside of my bedroom.

  I was home and in bed. How had that happened?

  I closed my eyes and tried to put the pieces back together.

  Everyone had taken me out after I had heard the worst news of my life. We had gone to Reggie’s.

  I gagged a little as I remembered all the shots I had had.

  Then my memory began to grow a little foggier. We had gotten paged. I remembered that. And then…had we all left then? No, that couldn’t be. I couldn't have worked in the condition that I had been in.