The playfulness died from Hillary’s expression.
“In the struggle, Crowes lost his hard hat, and it was damaged. Warren made the remark that Crowes would wear the thing to remind the rest of the crew what a hero he was. So I waited until Warren went into the foreman’s trailer, and I approached Crowes and gave him my hard hat. When Warren came back to the truck and found out what I’d done he got angry. He said the man was a liability on the site because he was an amputee.”
“An amputee?”
“His lower right leg. The foreman hired him, and Warren wants him gone.” As her anger rose again, Kathleen pressed her hands to her cheeks hoping to cool them. “We got into an argument about disability rights and what a PR nightmare it would be if he fired Crowes without cause. Especially since Crowes had just saved the company from a potential lawsuit.”
“And I guess that went over like a fart in a space suit.”
Hillary’s attempt to lighten the conversation did trigger a smile. “I guess you could say that.”
Hillary laid a hand on her arm. “Wow, a really big first day for you, huh?”
Kathleen felt the anger drain out of her, leaving behind a disheartened tiredness. “Yeah. I hope I haven’t made an enemy.”
“I doubt it. Paul will be his normal charming self tomorrow, and it will be water under the bridge. But I wouldn’t repeat what you’ve just told me to anyone else. You’re part of the creative team, and that means you’re expected to guard Wiley Construction’s back.”
“I thought that’s what I was doing.” She didn’t plan to tell anyone else. Except maybe her brother Zach. Zach was a vault. She’d avoid Warren for as long as possible and hope things died down.
Hillary rose. “It’s five o’clock. How ’bout that beer?”
Kathleen sighed and attempted to release the negativity and worry with it. “I’d love one.” But now she had one more concern. Had she confided in the wrong person?
*
Cal laid the hard hat on his dresser, shucked his safety vest, and hung it on his bedroom doorknob. Catching a whiff of his own sour sweat, he worked the buttons of his sweat-stained blue work shirt and tugged it free, balling the garment up and shooting it like a basketball into the overflowing hamper to one side of the closet. He needed to do laundry. Later, after a meal.
He slouched on the end of the bed, pulled off his heavy work boots and socks, then paused to study his prosthetic foot for wear or damage. After an eight-hour shift, he needed a break from the device. His pulled down his jeans so he could reach the pressure valve on the side of the socket. He pushed it in and air entered the form cupping his stump. It broke the vacuum holding it in place, and he pulled his stump free. His jeans soon joined the overflowing work clothes in the hamper, and he sighed.
Next he removed his sock and liner to allow the limb to breathe. He’d have to wash his liner and leave it to dry after his shower, one of the daily chores he attended to faithfully. By doing it, he made certain he didn’t develop any kind of skin infection.
He’d grown used to seeing the barren end of his leg, and the scar where the skin and tissue had been stitched over the end of the bone. It was another thing to bare it to someone else. Any girl he was drawn to, before he ever asked her out, he worried whether she’d be able to handle the sight of his lower leg and foot being—gone.
The military psychologist he saw on occasion said he made his amputation more difficult to accept by acting as though it was something to hide. But the guy didn’t realize how gut-wrenching it was to see the revulsion on a woman’s face when she saw it for the first time. His fiancée Stacy hadn’t stuck around for long after the unveiling at the hospital. And he’d been grateful. He had enough on his plate to deal with at the time, without having to shore up a reluctant girlfriend whose first instinct was to bail when shit hit the fan.
The thought sent his mind straight to Kathleen O’Connor. She hadn’t bailed. She’d gotten right down on the platform and offered Julio a hand. Would a woman like her flinch from a little thing like a missing limb and some scars?
She was new to her job, but still upper management, or as good as. She would be out of reach even if he had the inclination to call and ask her out. There were steel-girded lines of demarcation between manual laborers and upper management. It was just an accepted thing. But the fact that she had helped save Julio’s life and attempted to run interference for him with asshole Warren said something about her character.
And what the fuck was up with Warren? Every time the asshole was around, Cal felt like he had a bull’s-eye painted on his back. It didn’t take a mental giant to figure out that the guy wanted rid of him. He’d made light of being asked to put up the safety netting, but he’d been well aware of the head game Warren was playing when he ordered him to do it. There was something calculating and cruel about the bastard.
Cal lay back on the bed and threw his arm over his eyes. Not surprisingly, his shoulder protested, and he rubbed at the joint. Julio weighed more than he looked. Cal wouldn’t allow himself to dwell on how close a call it had been. It was over. The whole thing had ended well. Julio was still alive and kicking.
His thoughts cycled back to Kathleen. Even though being looked upon as a hero embarrassed him, he hadn’t minded that it had impressed Kathleen O’Connor. He’d been pretty impressed by her, too.
She kept her professional distance, but he’d noticed how soft color touched her cheeks when he looked directly at her. Everything about her was lush. Her lips, her breasts, her hips. With her thick dark brown hair and flawless skin, even in jeans and a sweatshirt she’d reminded him of an old time movie star. Ava Gardner maybe. Except she had green eyes. Not light green but true green.
Would she be open to going out with a construction worker?
A worker missing part of a leg?
Did he want to take a chance?
Probably not.
Cal sat up. His crutches stood propped against the wall close to the bed. He maneuvered around the mattress until they were within reach and levered himself to his feet. He’d take a shower, eat a meal, wash his liner. And there was always the laundry. Routine kept him moving forward.
His cell phone rang and relief relaxed the taut muscles of his back and shoulders. Saved from self-pity by the bell. He swung forward on his crutches and reached for it as it rang again. Julio’s voice on the other end of the phone ratcheted up his tension again.
“Come over for dinner Thursday night, man. We’re celebrating.”
“What are you celebrating?” Cal asked.
“Life, man. Jessica just told me she’s—”
Cal heard a feminine voice say something.
“We’re having another baby. It’s a good day, man.”
“Yeah. It is.” Whatever it was kismet, karma, luck, or a miracle, he was doubly glad he’d reached for Julio in time. “Congratulations, Julio. And yeah, I’d be glad to come. On one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“We don’t talk about what happened today.”
“Done. I don’t want to either.” His voice had the weighted certainty to it Cal recognized. “Jessica wants to thank you, though.”
“Put her on the phone now, and we’ll get it behind us.”
Julio chuckled.
“Thank you for saving my husband’s life, Cal.” Her voice cracked when she reached the word husband.
“You’re welcome. I wasn’t alone in the effort. And Julio would do the same for me.” The men who worked the job looked out for each other, much like his Marine Corps unit in Afghanistan. “Congratulations on the baby.”
“Thank you.” She cleared her throat. “Bring a date. There will be plenty of food.”
“I’ll see what I can do. Do I need to bring anything?” He had a short repertoire of edible dishes.
“No. Just bring yourself and a date. It will keep the crowd of women in Julio’s family from hitting on you.”
He stifled a bark of laughter. “I’ll do my
best.”
“And the woman who helped save Julio’s life, do you know her name?”
“Yes, her name is Kathleen O’Connor. She’s an architect and works in the head office.”
“Do you think you could get in touch with her for me and invite her to the barbecue?”
“I can call the head office and speak to her.”
“I’d like for her to come so I can thank her as well.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” It had been months since he’d attempted to ask anyone out. What would it hurt to try?
After a few more words with Julio, he hung up. If he hadn’t been in that spot, at that exact moment, he wouldn’t have been able to save Julio. His wife would be a widow, his children fatherless. Was that why he’d been spared in Afghanistan?
It was as good a reason as any.
Chapter 3
‡
Zach’s alarm woke her at three-fifteen, and Kathleen rolled out of bed to start breakfast. She didn’t have to do it, but part of rooming with her brother was about doing things for him more often than the one time a year when she normally had the opportunity.
For all the no-nonsense, Navy SEAL, tough-guy persona he projected, he loved to be fussed over. Until now she hadn’t had a chance to cosset him because he’d been training off and on ever since she first arrived.
Making him breakfast was just a small way to show him how much she appreciated and loved him. She didn’t know how many guys were coming to pick him up, but she fried two pounds of bacon. If there was any left, she’d make a sandwich for lunch. Next she scrambled a dozen eggs and made eight slices of oven toast.
When Zach came into the kitchen, his hair still wet from his shower and curling around his ears and neck, he sniffed the air like a bird dog. He hadn’t bothered to shave, and his beard looked like rust against his skin. “What are you doing awake and up, Kathleen?”
“Feeding you and whoever’s coming by to pick you up. They say breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”
“They do say that.” He grabbed a piece of bacon off the plate and bit it in half just as his phone went off. He left the kitchen to go into the living room and answer it. “Yeah. Kathleen cooked.”
Five seconds later a quick knock sounded at the door. Since Zach was filling a plate, Kathleen went to answer it.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Bowie greeted her and buffed her cheek with a kiss. With his smooth caramel skin and beautiful dimples, he was easily one of the handsomest men she’d ever met. He came home with Zach one Christmas after they earned their trident and had made himself as much a part of the family as the rest of her brothers. He did the scenting thing just like her brother. “Smells good in here.”
Bowie pointed a thumb toward the door, clearing the way for the man behind him. “This is Bullet.”
Kathleen studied the young African-American man. He had close-cropped hair and stood at least six two. With his wide shoulders and narrow waist, he looked like a sprinter and in as good shape as the rest of Zach’s team. She found his smile engaging. “You don’t have a pointy head at all,” Kathleen commented.
Bullet grinned and offered her a hand. “Seaman Jeff Sizemore.” He introduced himself. “And you don’t look a thing like your brother.”
Kathleen shook his hand. “Good thing, huh?”
“I heard that,” Zach said from the kitchen.
“Go ahead and help yourself. There’s hot coffee and orange juice.”
“Thanks.”
Kathleen left them to it and reclined on the couch to wait for them to finish so she could clean up. After they ate and left, she might be able to get in two more hours of sleep before she had to go to work.
“Your sister’s beautiful and she can cook,” Sizemore enthused.
“Don’t get any ideas, Bullet,” Zach mumbled a warning.
“Because I’m black.”
“What the fuck does that have to do with anything? Because you’re male.”
“Oh, is she a lesbian?”
A chair scraped across the floor.
“You okay, Bowie?” Bullet asked.
“Shit. No, I just snorted hot coffee out my nose.
Kathleen clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing.
“No, she’s not a lesbian. A fellow SEAL doesn’t put the move on another SEAL’s sister.”
“Gee, I guess someone should have told Hawk before he married Zoe.”
“Brett was in a coma and unable to make the rule clear. I’m wide awake and I’m watching you,” There was a bear growl warning in Zach’s voice that had Kathleen shaking her head. The teammates were constantly razzing each other. Constantly competing.
Zach’s tone grew morose and genuinely angry. “All joking aside, she just broke her engagement to an unfaithful, hound-dogging cocksucker. She’s not even close to being over that whole experience yet. So unless it’s love at first sight and you’re ready to proclaim your undying faithfulness and devotion right now…”
“Understood.” Bullet’s tone was much more subdued.
Kathleen tiptoed down the hall to her bedroom and closed the door.
Twenty minutes later, when Zach eased the door open, she’d regained her composure and thought about pretending she was asleep, but opened her eyes when she heard him place something on her nightstand.
“I’m okay, Zach. You don’t have to worry about me. It hardly hurts at all anymore.”
He knelt by her bed and smoothed back her hair. The light from the hall glowed from behind him, making it difficult for her to read his expression. “We both know different, honey.” When he kissed her forehead he brought with him the smell of bacon and coffee. “It does get better. You never forget the hurt, but it dulls and you move on.” He rose to his feet. “We’re not all faithless assholes.”
“I know.” Or did she? Her whole belief system had been shaken, as much from the loss of her best friend as her fiancé.
“Thanks for feeding us.”
“You’re welcome. Tell Bowie I’ve decided to hold out for him. In another ten years and he’ll have sown enough wild oats to be ready to settle down. He’s already a member of the family, and we can make it official then.”
“God forbid.” He shook his head. “Love you, Thorn.”
“You, too. Be careful.”
“Always.”
They both knew different. But there was no way she could control that any more than she could the past.
She reached for the object Zach laid on her nightstand. It was a small paper rose fashioned from a piece of copy paper. Zach had made them for her off and on during times of joy and sorrow. It was her brother’s special way of showing he cared. The gesture brought quick tears to her eyes, but also a smile. He was more sensitive than he’d ever admit.
For some reason that thought brought Cal Crowes to mind. The way he’d played down what he did on the site reminded her of her brothers. She drifted back to sleep cupping the rose in her hand and thinking about her five-minute encounter with him after he’d saved Julio’s life.
*
Foreman Tom Hill held a mechanical pencil and ran it back and forth between his fingers. “I don’t know why Paul Warren has this burr up his ass about you, but you could make my life and yours easier if you keep a low profile around him.”
Just when he thought the whole thing had died down, a news report pushed the issue front and center again. Cal focused on breathing through his anger, his face heated with effort. Fuck Paul Warren. He was an asshole. “I didn’t save Julio to get attention. It isn’t my fault someone released a video of the accident to the news stations. I didn’t even know about it until I got here this morning, and those reporters were already here trying to get an interview.”
“You didn’t give them one, did you?” Tom asked.
“No! Like I said before, I don’t want the added attention.”
Tom tossed the pencil onto the stack of paperwork before him. “Dammit.” He reached for the cup of coffee at his e
lbow, took a swig, then grimaced.
“All I want is to be able to work just like every other man on this shift. What the hell do you want me to do? And why exactly is it my fault the guy has an attitude about amputees?” Cal asked.
“It isn’t your fault. But he’s gunning for you. And I’m giving you a heads-up and telling you to be careful around him. If he tries to push you, don’t lose your temper or do anything stupid.”
“I won’t. I’ve dealt with people like him before.”
Tom’s brows rose, his craggy jaw taut. “What do you mean?”
“Some people have the attitude that if you’ve lost a limb and can draw a disability check, why are you taking the job someone with two good legs can do?”
“That’s—” Tom seemed at a loss.
Why was it he had to fight for the right to be independent and make a living? “Warren believes if something happens to me on-site, I’m going to sue the company. But even if I was a worker with two normal legs, that would still be a possibility. Julio’s two good legs didn’t keep him from going over the side. And it wouldn’t have stopped his wife from filing a claim against Wiley because the safety netting wasn’t up.”
“I’m not sure that’s what his problem is, Cal. I haven’t been able to pinpoint exactly why he’s so determined to get you off the site. All I know is every time he comes by here and sees you, he gets angry.”
“Then that’s his problem, not mine. I’ve never met the guy before. And I’ve never done anything to him.”
Tom waved a hand as though in surrender. “I didn’t call you in here to argue with you over this. I called you in just to ask you to avoid him if you can. You see him coming, take a break and walk away. I don’t want any reason for him to contrive an issue again. And try to avoid those damn reporters out there, too. The head office is about to shit concrete over the video. We didn’t have the safety netting up, and they’re scared shitless Julio’s going to file a lawsuit.”
Breaking Boundaries (SEAL Team Heartbreakers Book 5) Page 3
