by Candis Terry
“Where’s your wife?” Jake asked as he snagged a Shiner for himself from the outdoor refrigerator.
“At school. I swear, once she gets her psych degree, she’s going to be able to figure me out, then there’ll be real trouble.”
Jake popped the cap to the ale and took a refreshing drink.
“No cane today?” Jesse asked.
“Left it in the truck. Don’t really need it anymore.”
Jesse squinted against the bright sunlight. “That what your doctor says?”
“Don’t give a shit what the doctor says.”
“You will if you do further damage.”
“No worries, Mom. I only have about a week and a half left of using it anyway. Just trying to wean myself off a little sooner.”
“Because it makes you feel weak?”
“Because it makes me look weak. I can still kick your ass anytime you’re ready.”
Jesse laughed and ran a hand through the much shorter hairstyle than he’d had the last time Jake had been home. “Guess I have no room to talk. I’ve disregarded good advice a time or two myself.”
Jake eased down in a comfortable rattan chair next to the lounge. Though the shade gave a cool respite from the unforgivable Texas sun, his brother had gone above and beyond with a misting cooling system.
“I’m not saying anything against Allie because I think you were damn lucky to get a woman like her.” Jake leaned back and crossed his ankles. “But you really did set yourself up with a nice bachelor pad here.”
For years, Jesse had a reputation a mile long, and he’d been labeled with various titles like most eligible bachelor or Sweet’s favorite playboy. So the eye roll and groan he gave really didn’t surprise Jake.
“I set myself up with an excellent place to enjoy private time with my wife,” he explained. “Which also allows us enough space to entertain family and friends. If Dad hadn’t willed us all these huge pieces of land on Wilder Ranch, I’d have been living in some little house in town all this time.”
“Right.” Jake had been given the same amount of acreage as his brothers, and it sat nicely between Reno’s and Jackson’s homes. Someday, he’d figure his shit out and build a place for himself. But for now . . . yeah. For now he really did have to figure his shit out. Otherwise, he wasn’t any better than a dog chasing its own tail.
On cue, Jesse’s black Lab charged toward them from across the lawn with a slobbery yellow tennis ball clenched between his teeth. When he reached the pergola, he dropped the ball and got down on his front legs. His back end wiggled in anticipation of the game. Jesse reached down, grabbed the ball, and sailed it across the yard. It took a bounce into the pool and Dinks leaped in after it without hesitation.
Jake chuckled. “Dinks is pretty good entertainment.”
“You should get yourself a dog. They’re great companions. I’m sure Abby would be happy to pick the perfect one out for you from her rescue center.”
“I hardly think I need to add the care of a dog to the list of my screwups.”
Jesse cocked his head as though Jake had spoken gibberish. “You love dogs.”
“I know. But you can’t honestly think I’d be a good dog parent. Not right now.”
“What’s holding you back, little bro? So you’ve got a bum leg at the moment. Who the fuck cares? It’ll heal.”
Jake slugged down the remains of his Shiner. “It’s not the leg.”
“Yeah.” Eyes dark with understanding, Jesse nodded. “I get it. The war fucked up a lot of shit for a lot of people.”
Jake pushed out a harsh breath. “A lot.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“Talking about it means I have to face it.”
“Might be time.”
“Might not.” Jake lifted the empty bottle.
“Got news for you, little bro. Eventually, it’s going to catch up with you—ready or not.”
“It already has. Which is why I’m taking a step back.”
“You sleeping at night?”
“Not much.”
“Might sleep better if you work it out.”
“Probably.”
“Don’t for one minute think you’re alone in this, Jake.” Jesse swung his eyes, sharp and focused, in Jake’s direction. “We might not have been there beside you that day, but we all understand. Each of us has had some kind of cross to bear. Reno suffered a triple loss in quick succession with Jared’s, Dad’s, and his fiancée’s deaths. Jackson was witness to Jared’s being killed. I lived with Jared’s secret, then endured the guilt that I didn’t talk to Dad about it, which might have given him an opportunity to let go of the grief that caused his heart to quit on him. And you’ve got Eli’s death.”
And the fact that he’d promised Eli’s pregnant wife he’d get her husband home alive.
Jesse sat up, swung his long legs off the lounge, leaned toward Jake, and pointed. “Nothing you could have done that day would have made any difference.”
Jake leaned back and sighed with doubt.
“I promise you, it wouldn’t have. It’s fucked up, but it wouldn’t have mattered if you’d tackled him, padded him with a double layer of armor from head to toe, or had him call in sick for the mission. If it was his time, it was his time.”
“I call bullshit on that.”
“The only way you could count yourself responsible . . .” Jesse clamped a hand over Jake’s shoulder. “Is if you’d pulled that trigger yourself.”
More than anything, Jake wanted to nod and agree. After a lifetime of advice on everything from how to properly rope a calf, to how to stretch the truth to save your sorry ass, right down to the secrets of all-night sex, his brothers’ lectures were like the unwanted voices in his head. But for what it was worth, usually they were right.
“That’s not going to matter to Eli’s wife or his baby when it’s born,” Jake said.
“Is that what this is all about? You really think his wife will blame you?” Jesse gave him the big-brother glare, folded his hands together, and dropped them between his knees. “Or tell their child you were the reason his daddy died?”
Jake shrugged, even while his subconscious screamed yes.
“Got news for you. There’s an enemy out there. And it isn’t you. You, Eli, and your entire company were betrayed. You were ambushed. Call it what you want, that day the enemy played a better hand. Doesn’t mean you did anything wrong. Just means they did something right. Just like the day they pulled the trigger on the bullet that killed our brother. Are you going to blame Jackson for Jared’s death just because he was there that day? Because he was a witness to what happened?”
“Hell no.”
“So what makes you any different?” Jesse punched his shoulder. “War is fucked up, brother. Fucked. Up. The best thing you can do now is to face your demons head-on and find a way to move forward with your life. Freedom. It’s what we all fight for whether on the battlefield or here at home. We fight for the freedom to live our lives to the best of our abilities and ultimately find a little happiness along the way.”
Jake’s gut, though twisted in knots, told him his older brother might be right. But the heaviness in his heart wasn’t buying it.
Always one of the more observant brothers, Jesse sensed it was time for a change of subject. He leaned back again and propped his arm behind his head.
“So . . . you go home alone from the party last night?”
“Jess. I’m staying with Mom. Of course I went home alone.”
Jesse’s wide shoulders came up. “Question’s not out of line for you. It’s not like you haven’t made use of the hayloft before. Or taken a date for a drive out by the creek. Or gone home with someone.”
“Just trying to reacclimate first.”
“Bullshit. You know what you need?”
“No. But I�
�m sure you’re about to tell me.”
“Damn straight I am. You need a woman. A good woman. One who’ll be with you through the good times and the bad.”
“Jesus.” Jake ran a hand over his now-grown-out buzz cut. “I kind of hoped the bad times were behind me.”
“With any luck.” Jesse squinted. “But just in case, it’s nice to have someone who looks up at you every day with love and hope in her eyes. Kind of beats the alternative to shit.”
“Pretty sure that’s not really on my agenda right now.”
Or any time in the near future.
First, he had to figure out what the hell to do with the rest of his life. Deciding where he planned to live would be a good start. With his mother’s getting married, Jake figured she’d move her new husband into the house on Wilder Ranch. But even as massive as the ranch-style home was, it would never be big enough for him to give the newlyweds their space. And then there was always the fact that he was an adult and really should have a home of his own.
“You should listen to what I’m telling you. I’m a doctor.”
“Jess, you’re a freaking vet. And I’m not a dog.”
“That’s not what Jessica Holt said the last time you were home on leave, then you didn’t . . .” He lifted his hands, made air quotes, and raised his voice an octave. “Keep in touch like you promised.”
“I don’t remember promising anything like that.”
“Maybe that’s why Jessica thinks you’re a dog.” Laughter rolled up through his brother’s broad chest. “No surprise. The heat of the moment makes you say all kinds of crazy shit.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, brother, but even in the heat of the moment, I choose my words carefully. No promises. No four-letter words that start with L unless it’s lick. Jessica and I are on the same page. We have a mutual understanding. And a casual hookup is all we’ll ever be.”
“So maybe you should go ahead and give your casual hookup a call. I’m sure she’d be happy to help you forget your troubles for a few hours.”
“Maybe.” Trouble was, he didn’t want Jessica Holt. No matter how fancy her private underwear collection might be. He didn’t know why, he just didn’t.
“But . . .” A grin spread across Jesse’s face. “Then you’ll be right back where you started. Alone and still ugly as sin.”
“You do realize we’re brothers, and we look alike, right?”
Jesse laughed. “You keep thinking that.”
The empty bottle rolled between Jake’s fingers. He looked at his surroundings and the life his brother had created for himself. The perfect house. The perfect yard. The perfect wife. The perfect life.
Jesse had it all.
But Jake knew that with the emptiness in his soul, he’d never find that nirvana. That perfect life. That happily-ever-after. Not when another man’s wife and child had been left out in the cold because he’d failed them in a major way.
“So what are your plans for the rest of the day?” Jesse asked. “I’ve got spare shorts if you want to go for a swim.”
“Nope.” Jake stood, dropped the empty bottle in the trash, and headed toward the gate. “Looks like I might have some making up to do with Jessica Holt and her never-ending array of circus tricks.”
Drips of sweet dark chocolate were everywhere. Annie had tried to be careful, so there’d be less cleanup, but she’d missed the mark. Like usual. She might as well have kept Max home. He couldn’t have made a bigger mess than she had on her own.
Her plan had been to make enough batches to fulfill her regular orders, then add a few more for the extra cash. Christmas was coming up fast. Soon the stores would put the Halloween decorations on sale, and the aisles would be overloaded with holly and jolly.
Max was old enough now to notice the lights and the festiveness. He’d spot the pretty packages and want to tear into them on sight. She wanted to make this a wonderful holiday for him, here in their own home. Even if he’d never remember it when he grew up.
The two-story they lived in had belonged to her parents before they moved to Florida, aka party central. Abby had come back from Houston after her divorce to renovate it and to put it up for sale. When Annie became pregnant, her sister had sent her an airline ticket to come home. By the time Annie arrived, Abby had everything done, and she’d purchased the house from their parents with some of the money she’d received in her divorce settlement. Since Abby had been married to the owner of the Houston Stallions NFL team, she had the means to make it happen. Still, Annie didn’t take that for granted. She paid a fair amount of rent each month even though her sister didn’t want to take it. Annie had always paid her own way, and she’d worked hard to make it happen. She might never be a millionaire, she might live from paycheck to paycheck, but that was perfectly okay with her.
Even though it was just her and Max there, the place was more of a home now than it had ever been while she’d been growing up. And she was very grateful for the love of a sister like Abby.
So far today, she’d completed three batches with at least five more to go. A quick glance at the clock told her she’d better bust her can and get moving. Jana’s generosity wasn’t one she wanted to abuse. If she couldn’t get at least two more batches done in the next hour or so, she’d have to wrap it up and continue later tonight after she put Max to bed.
Just as she’d slipped on a new pair of gloves and started pouring the chocolate over the caramel, the doorbell rang.
Startled in the process of moving the pot of chocolate, a huge glob poured out. Instinctively, she reached out to catch it and ended up burning her fingers through the thin plastic glove.
“Ouch!” Dammit. “Come in,” she shouted, caring not that whoever was at the door could possibly be a stranger but only that she free her hand from the glove and get it under some cold water. In pain and in a hurry, she did a little ow-ow dance while she tried to remove the chocolate-laden glove without also removing the burned skin.
“What the hell are you doing yelling ‘come in’? I could have been a serial killer.”
Annie’s gaze shot up from her burned hand to Jake’s dark expression where his brows had collided over his blue eyes.
“I’m a little too busy at the moment to care. So unless you’re a doctor, I really could do without the lecture.”
“What did you do?” he asked, hands on hips like he really was preparing a lecture.
Duh came to mind, but she wasn’t so far gone she’d be that rude. She held up her hand as Exhibit A. “The doorbell startled me, and I poured hot chocolate over my hand. So either get helping or get gone. This hurts, and I’m losing my cheerful attitude quickly.”
“Like you ever had one,” he muttered so low she almost didn’t hear him. “Let me see.”
When he came toward her, she noticed he was without his cane. She could ask why later; right now she just needed a little assistance. Maybe some sympathy. Definitely a strong drink.
The glove was halfway off her hand but still covered the burned area. He gently took her hand in his, and she was sure she’d feel a rush of tingles—if she didn’t feel like howling.
“Let’s stick this under the cold water while we remove the glove the rest of the way.”
“Good idea,” she said.
A smile kicked up one corner of his mouth. “I’m full of them if you’d just pay attention.”
While he worked, she looked up, fully entranced by the humor that danced in his eyes for what he thought was such a clever comeback.
“You mean like the night of your high-school graduation, when you and your buddies drove into San Antonio, and you got drunk off your ass and thrown in jail?”
His head came up, eyes narrowed again. “How’d you know about that?”
“Jake. This is Sweet. Everybody knew about that.”
“Pretty sad a man can’t make a fool of himself wit
hout everybody and their brother knowing.”
“I do believe your brothers were the ones who told.”
“Mom never knew.”
“Really?” She snorted. “Something that big is going to happen, and she’s not going to know?”
“Glove’s off.”
“What?”
“While you were tripping down memory lane on my behalf, I got the glove off.”
“Oh.” She looked down and, sure enough, the chocolate-covered plastic was crumpled in the sink, and Jake was holding her burned hand under the cold water. Fortunately, the burn appeared to be minor but still stung like crazy. “Thanks.”
“You got some ointment and a bandage?”
“In the bathroom.”
He let go of her hand and disappeared through the living room. When he came back, he was loaded down with hydrogen peroxide, triple antibiotic ointment, and a box of multisized bandages that sported the goofy face of SpongeBob SquarePants.
“You seriously should invest in Spider-Man bandages,” he said. “They make the healing go much quicker.”
“I’m shocked.” Once again, he took her hand in his. This time, she did feel the tingle.
“Why’s that?”
“You seem more like a Superman or Batman kind of guy.”
“Nope. It’s Spidey all the way for me.” He paused and looked up. “What’s with the grin?”
“I’m trying to picture you in a pair of Spider-Man Underroos.”
“They don’t make them in my size.”
“Too bad.” Laughter bubbled up from her chest. “I’d pay money to see that.”
He chuckled as he grabbed the clean towel off the counter, blotted the water from her hand, and went to work applying the ointment and bandage.
“Looks like this isn’t your first rodeo bandaging up someone,” she said, watching the deft way he worked, his eyes intently focused on what he was doing.
