This Time for Keeps

by Rochelle Alers

  “I just thought you didn’t want them to have anything to do with us.”

  “Well, you’re wrong, Johnnie. We’re family, and the sooner you realize that, everything will go well with us.” She knew if the Clarkes were given custody of their grandsons, then they would receive money from the state as their foster parents.

  Johnnie extended a large gnarled hand. “I’m sorry, Nicole.”

  She ignored the proffered hand, went on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “Apology accepted. I’ll bring the boys over Friday.”

  “What about the Labor Day weekend? You know we always have an end-of-the-summer cookout that weekend. And the kids don’t have classes on Tuesday because teachers have professional development.”

  “Okay. You can have them this weekend and the next one.” Turning on her heel, she walked over to Fletcher. “I’m ready to leave now.”

  He took her free hand. Nicole felt the calluses on Fletcher’s hand as he gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. It was obvious he was no stranger to working with his hands. She’d noticed that, despite being a mechanic, he didn’t have dirt under his fingernails.

  “It looks as if you made peace with Grandpa Clarke,” Fletcher remarked.

  “Let’s see how long it will last. His wife and son didn’t look very happy, but there’s nothing they can do about it because now they’ll have to abide by today’s determination.” Nicole waited until they were seated in the pickup to ask Fletcher, “What made you volunteer to become a temporary foster father for my nephews?”

  Throwing back his head, Fletcher laughed loudly. “Is that what I am?”

  “What else are you, Fletcher, if you’re willing to stand in as a temporary dad?”

  “I suppose you’re right about that. Maybe I can get some practice in before I decide to become a father.”

  “You don’t have any children?” Her voice rose slightly with the query.

  “Nope.”

  “Why not? What are you waiting for?”

  A beat passed. “Before I answer your question, I’d like you to answer one for me.”

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Why don’t you have any children?”

  Nicole stared straight ahead for several seconds before saying, “I haven’t met the man I’d want to father my children.”

  She couldn’t admit to Fletcher that she had met someone she would have considered marrying if their circumstances had been different. He was an enlisted man, though not in her unit. Fraternizing with him would have jeopardized her commission, so she’d been forced to conceal her feelings for him. Back then she hadn’t been ready to sacrifice her military career for love.

  “You’ve never been in love?” Fletcher asked.

  She turned to study his distinctive profile. “Not really.”

  Fletcher’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “Either it’s yes or no.”

  “Yes, but it wasn’t able to be reciprocated.”

  “By you or him?”

  “For both of us.”

  Fletcher drove another quarter of a mile before he said, “You were an officer and he wasn’t.”

  She smiled. “You’re quite perceptive.”

  “I’m not that perceptive. I’ve just seen my share of commissioned and noncommissioned officers having to hide their liaisons. If he had been an officer, would you have married him?” Fletcher questioned.

  “I would if he had been in love with me.”

  “Are you saying your relationship was that one-sided? That you loved him but he didn’t love you?”

  “Just say that he liked me and I liked him, and leave it at that. What about you, Fletcher? Why haven’t you married?”

  “I had a few relationships over the years, but none of them reached the point where I would’ve considered proposing marriage. And it wasn’t even an option as long as I was deployed. Wickham Falls has had its share of military widows and I wouldn’t want my wife to have to raise our children by herself.”

  Nicole had attended school with students who’d lost a father, brother or uncle while serving in the military, and the impact had been devastating for their families. The names of the deceased veterans were added to the granite memorial erected at the end of Main Street and honored every year during Memorial Day celebrations.

  “I think you should come and meet my nephews,” Nicole said, deftly changing the topic of conversation. She did not feel comfortable allowing Fletcher to interact with Daniel and Luke without her being present.

  Fletcher nodded. “That sounds like a good idea. When do you want to introduce me to them?”

  “Maybe you can come over for dinner before Friday.”

  “What about tomorrow?”

  “Tomorrow works for me,” Nicole said in agreement. “We usually sit down for dinner around six. Is that too early for you?”

  * * *

  Fletcher wanted to tell Nicole it was, but knew he had to compromise. Most nights he worked until six and then went home to shower and prepare dinner. He’d made it a habit to eat while viewing the nightly news, following with several sport channels to unwind from the day’s events. Weekends were his to do whatever he wanted. The shop was not open on Saturdays or Sundays and that was his time to work on his current restoration project.

  “No,” he said. “Six is okay.”

  “I said six because I try to keep the boys on a schedule that works for them. Luke has to be in bed by eight because he needs at least ten hours of sleep or he’s out of sorts in the morning, while Daniel has a ten o’clock curfew.”

  “What time do you get them up for school?”

  “I don’t. Both have alarm clocks and I expect them to get up on their own. Without the clocks they would probably stay in bed until noon.”

  Fletcher signaled and turned off onto the road leading to the town limits for Wickham Falls. “Are you saying it took a marine captain to whip them into shape?”

  Her throaty laugh filled the interior of the truck. “I try not to ride them too hard. I don’t want my nephews to think of me as a bully, because they’ve gone through so much at such an early age. They’ve lost their mother and their father will be away for the next six months, so I’m very careful when I explain why I want or need them to do something for me.”

  “Do they give you a hard time?”

  “Surprisingly no. My sister-in-law wasn’t what you would call a gourmet cook and, compared to her, I’m a celebrity chef.”

  “Are you saying you’re a fabulous cook?”

  “Not quite fabulous, but good enough. I include their suggestions as to what they want for dinner and weekend brunch, which makes them agreeable to other things I ask of them.”

  Fletcher flashed a wide grin. “If that’s the case, then I’m looking forward to tomorrow.” The ringtone on his cell phone revealed he had a text message. Signaling again, he pulled off the road and took out his phone. “Billy just sent me a text saying a component in the ignition has to be replaced. Do you want him to order the part?”

  “Of course,” Nicole said. “I need my car.”

  Fletcher tapped the keys, giving Billy the approval, and then waited for a reply. “It’s expected to be delivered on Thursday.”

  Nicole groaned softly. “I’m certain Preston McAvoy can do without me for a couple of days, but I need to take the boys to counseling on Thursday,” she said under her breath. “I have to rent a car because I don’t want them to miss their sessions.”

  “Forget about renting a car, Nikki. I have a loaner you can use until yours is repaired.”

  “I really don’t want to put you out any more than I have.”

  “Have you been gone so long that you’ve forgotten that folks in The Falls always look out for one another?”

  “No, but—”

  “No buts, Nikki,” Fletcher said, interrupting her. “You may
have outranked me in the military, but as civilians we should be able to have sensible discussions as equals.”

  “Old habits die hard, Fletcher.”

  He nodded. “Tell me about it. There are times when I still act like a sergeant barking orders and Pop has to remind me that I’m no longer in the army.”

  “I’ve been out of the corps longer than you have the army and I still find myself thinking like a marine.”

  “Were you strictly a by-the-book soldier?”

  “I never thought of myself as one, but then you would have to ask some that I served with. Even though women have risen to become generals, there is still a stigma about women serving in the military. When I first became a helicopter pilot, I was assigned to extracting the wounded in the field before I graduated to piloting Blackhawk helicopter gunships during airstrikes.”

  “If you’d stayed in, you probably could’ve risen to the rank of at least a lieutenant colonel.”

  “I was really striving for general.”

  A knowing smile spread over Fletcher’s features. The girl he’d known in high school hadn’t changed that much. When they’d talked about the military Nicole had always said she’d wanted to become a general, because there were too few women who’d attained the rank. And he had no doubt that if she had remained in the corps, she would have reached her goal.

  “Wickham Falls has never had a general. Aiden Gibson was a navy SEAL. Sawyer Middleton was an army electronic intelligence technician. Sheriff Seth Collier a marine MP and Leland Remington an army ranger. And there’s also Dr. Dwight Adams, who is a major in the army reserves. Now you’re back as a captain.”

  “Only temporarily, Fletcher. The Falls has another marine captain in Giles Wainwright.”

  Fletcher started the pickup, waited for a lull in oncoming traffic and maneuvered back onto the road. “Have you met him?”

  “Yes. I met him after I’d begun working for Preston.”

  “Do you like working for him?” Preston had taken over the family-based law firm once he’d graduated law school and passed the West Virginia bar. Preston’s great-grandfather had defended striking miners charged with assaulting strikebreakers and the goons protecting them.

  “I do. He asked me to help him out with a backlog of cases once he’d heard that I was going to be here through the new year. I told him I could only give him five hours a day because I need to be home to see my nephews off to school and be at home when the bus drops them off. He said he would accept whatever help I could give him.”

  “How does it compare to the work you did in Florida?” Fletcher asked.

  “There is no comparison, Fletcher. As an associate for a large firm, I’d work on average fifty and sometimes sixty hours a week. I’d arrive home so exhausted that all I’d do was shower and fall into bed.”

  “What about your social life?”

  “I didn’t have much of one.”

  “No boyfriend?”

  She shook her head. “No. I didn’t have time to devote to a normal relationship.”

  Fletcher gave Nicole a sidelong glance. “Maybe that will change now that you’re here.”

  “I don’t think so, Fletcher. I’m not going to get involved with someone and then break it off when I leave next year.”

  “Maybe something will happen that will force you to change your mind and you’ll decide to stay.”

  “Bite your tongue, Jesse Fletcher Austen. What are you trying to do? Jinx me?”

  He chuckled, the sound seemingly coming from his chest. “Why did you have to go and use my entire government name?”

  “Well, it did get your attention. If you were named after your father, why didn’t they call you Junior instead of Fletcher?”

  “You’ll have to ask my parents about that,” Fletcher said. “My father said if he had a son, he wanted him to carry on the name given to him, while my mother hated calling me Junior. She started calling me Fletcher and it stuck.”

  “If I have a son, I’d never consider naming him after his father because I believe a child should have his own identity. Speaking of sons, I have to tell you that I have a fur baby.”

  “You have a dog?” Fletcher asked.

  Nicole nodded. “Yes. I brought him back with me the last time I went to Florida.”

  “Are you allowed to have dogs where you live?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is he a rescue?”

  “Not really. He belonged to a friend who was unable to care for him, so I offered to take him.”

  “How old and what breed?”

  “Othello is a five-year-old Belgian Malinois.”

  “He’s former military.” Fletcher’s query was a statement.

  “Yes. His handler was a SEAL who has been diagnosed with severe PTSD. During his dark moods he’d forget to walk or feed Othello, and that’s when his sister asked me if I would take Othello.”

  “How do your nephews get along with the dog?”

  “They love him. It took a while before Othello warmed up to them, but now they’re besties.”

  “I’m also looking forward to meeting Othello.” Fletcher wondered if the SEAL had been Nicole’s romantic interest, which had led her to accept the responsibility of adopting his specially trained military dog.

  Suddenly it hit him. Nicole had unselfishly given up a promising position with a Miami-based law firm to oversee the well-being of her nephews. She had also agreed to adopt a canine that would be hard to place with a family because he had been trained for warfare. Not only were military dogs large and powerful, but also very well-trained and disciplined. She had sacrificed much and hopefully it would not all be in vain.

  “Is it possible for me to meet Othello today?”

  “You’re not in a hurry to get back to the garage?”

  Fletcher shook his head. “Not really. When I left, there was only one car in the bay that needed work. And the place definitely will not fall apart if I’m not there.”

  “What about your father?”

  “Pop will hang around until I get back. He spends most of the day in the office recliner watching television. A few times I found him asleep, but he denies it and claims he was just resting his eyes.”

  “If that’s the case, then are you willing to stay long enough to share lunch with me?” Nicole asked. “It’s the least I can do to repay you for driving me to the courthouse.”

  “You really don’t have to repay me, Nikki, but I will accept your invitation.”

  Fletcher did not want to tell Nicole that she was making it easy for him to reconnect with her so they could possibly resume their former friendship. She didn’t know he was willing to do anything for her if only to absolve himself of the cutting accusation he’d flung at her in what now seemed half a lifetime ago.

  The instant those words had rolled off his tongue, he’d regretted it, especially when he’d detected her shocked expression and the obvious pain in her eyes as they’d filled with unshed tears. Every time he’d seen her in the following weeks, she’d averted her eyes rather that meet his.

  They had graduated, leaving Fletcher filled with guilt that had lingered with him for years. He could not turn back the clock or retract what he’d said, but he had promised himself that he would do everything possible or within reason to regain her confidence.

  “Don’t move. I’ll help you down,” he said to Nicole as he pulled into the driveway to her home and shut off the engine. He knew the pickup’s oversize tires made accessing and exiting the vehicle a little problematic for someone of her height. He also knew the slimness of her skirt would make it even more difficult for her.

  Assisting Nicole also gave Fletcher the opportunity to touch her and inhale the sensual perfume on her body, which brought back memories of when they’d worked closely together on high school committees. His fondest memory of Nicole was how w
onderful she’d smelled. She would occasionally change fragrances and he’d thought each one was the perfect complement for her body’s natural scent.

  He successfully hid a smile when his hands circled her waist and he held her against his chest for several seconds, luxuriating in her warmth and the soft curves molded to his upper body. “There you go,” he said glibly, setting her on her feet.

  Nicole met his eyes. “Thank you.”

  Fletcher inclined his head. “You’re most welcome.” He waited for her to retrieve her tote, closed the truck door and followed her up the porch to the house and inside once she disabled the security system. He had only taken a step when he saw the dog.

  Chapter Three

  “Can I pet him?”

  Nicole kicked off her heels and left them on a thick mat, setting the tote on the bench seat in the entryway. “No. Let him come to you to get your scent.”

  Fletcher stared at the brown, black and gold dog. Belgian Malinois didn’t weigh as much as German shepherds, which made them easier to carry over their handler’s shoulders or when executing a halo jump. “What happens after he gets my scent?”

  Nicole removed her suit jacket and left it on the bench, drawing Fletcher’s gaze to linger on the roundness of her breasts under the white blouse. He looked away before she could find him staring at her petite, compact body. Although standing no taller than five-three, she appeared to be in incredible shape and he wondered if she worked out.

  Unbuttoning the cuffs to her blouse, Nicole rolled back the sleeves. “He’ll follow you around for a while and, once he gets used to you, and if you’re seated, he will rest his muzzle on your thigh. Until then, I suggest you give him the space he needs to decide if he likes you.”

  Fletcher wiped his booted feet on the mat. “And if he doesn’t?”