Breaking Boundaries (SEAL Team Heartbreakers Book 5)

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Breaking Boundaries (SEAL Team Heartbreakers Book 5) Page 9

by Teresa Reasor


  He twisted the corkscrew in and pushed the mechanism handles down to pop the cork. “I’d just gotten out of a regimented field, and my schedule was regimented because of physical therapy and all that. I wasn’t ready to sit in a classroom. Then I decided I liked the active side of construction better than the design part of it, for the time being.” He opened an overhead cabinet, lifted down one of two wine glasses, and poured her a half a glass of wine.

  “The hard work suits you. You’re staying in shape and doing something you love.” She shoved the book back in place. “I’ve been sitting behind a drafting table drawing, designing on a computer, or studying in a library for the last six years.” She joined him at the island that divided the kitchen from the living room and reached for the glass. “My brother Zach wants me to go running with him on the beach on the weekends to get in shape. He runs five miles a day or more.”

  Cal’s brows quirked in a semi-frown. “I wouldn’t suggest you take on five miles to start with.”

  “I won’t. Not without an oxygen tank and an ambulance standing by.”

  His masculine laughter triggered a smile.

  She took a sip of the wine. “I told him I needed to learn to walk before I could run.”

  His blue-green eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. “Sounds like a good idea. You don’t plan to end up like a string bean, do you?” He swiveled to the refrigerator and got a beer.

  “It couldn’t happen if I ate only one bean a week. It isn’t in my genetic makeup to be a twig.”

  He ran his gaze down over her, then back up to her face. “I think you’re perfect just the way you are, Kathleen.”

  Her heart turned over. She took a sip of wine to cover the effect of both his words and the touch of his gaze. Heat stormed her cheeks. “That was nicely done, Callahan. Would you like me to carry your drink so we can sit on the couch?”

  He grinned. “Sure.” He handed over his beer and swung around the island to go into the living room.

  She learned why the ottoman was the size of a car when he tugged it close so they could both use it to prop their legs on.

  “What do you like on your pizza?” he asked.

  “Anything but anchovies or pineapple.”

  “Why anyone would ruin a perfectly good pie with either of those beats the hell out of me,” he agreed. “How about pepperoni, sausage, mushrooms, sweet peppers, black olives, and extra cheese.”

  “Sold.”

  He leaned over to the end table to retrieve his cell phone. The movement stretched the material over the rounded curve of his hip and outlined his tight buns.

  Hit by a desire to touch, Kathleen gulped her wine. Maybe she should have brought another bottle. One wasn’t going to be enough. On second thought, she needed to keep a clear head. She set the glass on the coffee table.

  She leaned back, kicked off her shoes and propped her feet up on the ottoman. She stared at the empty space where Cal’s ankle and foot should have been and weren’t. The ache over his loss hit her again.

  Cal finished the call and tossed the phone onto the couch next to him. “They’ll deliver it in about thirty minutes. Now tell me what happened at work today.”

  The guilt she’d been carrying with her for days rose up full force. “There’s something I need to tell you first.”

  “What is it?”

  “I think Paul Warren really has it in for you. You need to watch your back.” There, she’d said it.

  “I know.”

  Surprised she jerked her head up.

  “He’s been riding my ass at work for days. I don’t know why he has it in for me. It’s probably my leg.” He ran a distracted hand over his close-cropped hair.

  The tight, worrisome feeling of guilt she’d carried around all week eased. “What do you plan to do about it?”

  “I’m building up evidence of my competence on the job. Hector and Julio taped me with their cell phones working all day today. I thought I’d compile the clips into a day-on-the-job thing to show the powers that be if he keeps pushing.”

  “That’s a really good idea. I can help you do that if you’d like. I’m pretty good on the computer.”

  He smiled. “Thanks. I could use some help. By the time I left the site today, I’d done two men’s jobs, and those assholes had used the excuse of taping me to sucker me into doing just that…their two jobs. Plus mine.”

  Kathleen chuckled.

  He rested his fingertips on her forearm and ran them up and down. “Now tell me what’s been going on with you.”

  She told him everything that had happened that morning. Her anger built again just thinking about it.

  “Who do you think did it?” he asked, his expression grim.

  She couldn’t say anything about Paul Warren. It would only throw fuel on the fire between them. “I work with three other architects. They all seemed upset as I was. I don’t believe any of them did it. Or I’m hoping none of them did it.” She dropped her legs from the ottoman and reached for her wine. “I’ve password-protected my computer, and during my lunch break I bought an external hard drive and saved everything to that as well. I’ll keep it with me when I’m not in the office.”

  “And your drawings?”

  “I scanned them into the computer and took the hard copy home.”

  Cal gripped her hand. “Do you think Warren might have anything to do with this?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “He was in the parking lot when I dropped you off. He wanted to know what I was doing there. I just told him I’d given someone a ride to their car. I didn’t mention it was you.”

  “But he might have seen me.”

  “Yes.”

  Kathleen swallowed. Well one problem was either solved or would complicate things for her. “It’s none of his business who I see.”

  “But he might start projecting his anger at me onto you.”

  She remained silent a moment. She couldn’t allow him to take responsibility. “Things got off to a rocky start between us from the first day, Cal. It may not have anything at all to do with you. The tech guy said my file was deleted around seven. We were in the parking lot around nine-thirty. He and Hillary, one of my coworkers, went out for drinks right after work. He’d have had to delete the file after that. So you weren’t what inspired it, if it was him.” She sipped her wine. “There’s no way to know for certain who might have done it.”

  “Are you sure you can get past this?”

  She set aside her empty wine glass and relaxed back against the couch again. “I don’t have a choice. I’ve already scheduled my licensing exam. I have to be currently employed in my field to take it.” Her attention snagged on a small scar running along the underside of his jaw. The beard dusting his firm jawline made his features appear all the more masculine.

  His unusual teal eyes traced over her features. “Do you think you can put it behind you?”

  “I’ll be on guard from now on, but I’ll get through it. I’ll take it a day at a time, like you suggested. If things don’t level out, I’ll look for another job.”

  When he put his arm around her, it seemed natural to lean into him. The sturdy, muscular width of his chest lay beneath her hand. The comfort he offered drained away the rest of her tension. The weight of worry resting squarely on her shoulders seemed to shift.

  After a few moments, every thought of what had happened at work flew from her mind to be replaced by awareness of him. A sensual lassitude invaded her muscles, draining the last of her tension. How could being in his arms create such a firestorm of need?

  *

  Cal’s hand rested against her waist. His blood raced. She smelled sweet, and the generous swell of her breast pressing against his side was the most tempting weight he’d ever felt. Adrenaline stormed his system, and he swallowed against the accompanying breathlessness. He wanted to tilt her face up and kiss her. He wanted to drink her in. He traced the curve of her cheek with his fingertips.

  The phone rang. �
�That’s probably the pizza guy.” His voice sounded husky. He reached for his cell.

  “Mr. Crowes this is Nora Harper. I’m a reporter for Channel 8 news.”

  Cal bit back a curse.

  “I’d really like to interview you. We’ve been looking into your background and learned you’re a veteran and an amputee. You must realize how rare it is for someone with your issue to work in the field of commercial construction. We think you could be a real inspiration to other people with disabilities.”

  Cal reluctantly drew away from Kathleen. “Look, Ms. Harper. I’m not interested in being on television. Like I told all the other news people who showed up at the site, I just want to be able to work and live my life. There are other guys out there who have given more than I have who deserve your attention. Get out there and find them.”

  “We’re already doing that, but we want to include you in our broadcast. Since we released the video on Tuesday morning and mentioned that you were a retired vet and an amputee, a great many viewers have commented on the story. There’s been some back and forth about whether, as an amputee, you’d be competent doing the same job as the other workers. That you might be a token disabled employee for Wiley to show their diversity.”

  Cal remained silent as the pain resonated through him. “What people believe doesn’t matter to me, Ms. Harper. I’m working at something I’m good at. If I lose that job, it will be because you stirred the pot.”

  “What do you mean by that—”

  He cut off the conversation. When her number flashed again he blocked it.

  Kathleen grasped his hand, concern in her expression. “Maybe we should spend some time tomorrow working on that video, Callahan.”

  He swallowed. “Maybe so.”

  “There are people in this world who are so miserable it makes them feel better to tear other people down. Don’t buy into anything they say.”

  It sounded like she was speaking from experience. “I won’t.” He gave her hand a squeeze. “But if you really want me to feel better, you could give me the kiss I was hoping to ease into before the phone rang.”

  Kathleen studied his face, her expression serious despite his attempt at levity. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. Her mouth, soft and warm, parted to caress his. Heat rocketed through him, and he reached for her, but she pulled back and his hands slid down her arms and away.

  Her eyes betrayed uncertainty. “I’m not ready for anything serious yet, Callahan.”

  Anger at the faceless fiancé stormed through him. She was so open and straightforward about everything else. To see her hesitant about anything was painful. The asshole had really hurt her.

  But he had his own reasons for being cautious, too. “I’m good with taking it slow, Kathleen.”

  The uncertainty in her expression eased.

  “My girlfriend broke things off because she couldn’t stand the sight of my leg or my scars.”

  Kathleen flinched.

  “I was still in the hospital with my foot gone, my jaw wired shut, and the rest of me cut up by shrapnel when she walked—no, ran away. So I do understand how you feel.”

  “I’m sorry, Cal.” He read real pain in her face, pain he didn’t want her experiencing on his behalf, because it could too easily trip over into pity.

  “She did me a favor. I didn’t need her to pretend to have my back when she didn’t. Nobody wants lip service where there should be love. Nobody deserves that.”

  “No they don’t. And I understand about that, too.”

  He suppressed a sigh. “Yeah, I guess you do. So out of all the things we have in common, it seems we’ve discovered the worst.”

  “We’ll just have to poke around and see if we can find something more positive.”

  He nodded. That kiss they’d just shared seemed like the place to start.

  Chapter 8

  ‡

  Kathleen ran a quick brush through her hair, and, using a scrunchie, tried to tame her thick, dark hair into a ponytail at the base of her neck.

  She checked her light makeup, and after spreading on pale pink lip gloss with a fingertip, washed her hands and dried them. Earlier she’d cleaned the house in preparation for Cal’s visit, not that men seemed to notice much about things like that. Zach rarely did. But she still scanned the living room for her brother’s random clutter. Why on earth would he leave a cleaning kit for his Sig balanced on the edge of the flat-screen television?

  For a guy who didn’t want anyone to know what he did for a living, he didn’t make much effort to organize his living space so visitors wouldn’t guess. But then since she’d lived here, the only people who visited his house were his teammates when they dropped by to pick him up.

  She shook her head. Her brother’s social life sucked worse than hers. Or had he cut back on his normal routines because she was rooming with him? She didn’t think so. If she had to guess, she’d say he had no social life, only his job. That was sad.

  And his continued absence without word was worrying.

  A decisive knock on the door broke into her worry-fest and sent her heartbeat soaring. Even though she was expecting Cal, she still looked through the peephole. She was already smiling when she opened it. “Hey.”

  Instead of an answering smile, Cal frowned. “I hate to tell you this, Kathleen, but you have two flat tires.”

  “What?”

  He pointed at her vehicle.

  She stepped out on the stoop and automatically shut the door behind her. On the right side both tires were completely flat. Shock froze her vocal chords, otherwise she’d have been making free use of some of Zach’s favorite swear words. She strode across the drive to look at the damage and squatted down to look over the face of the tire. There was no damage on the sides, but the tread was too heavy to see any punctures in that area.

  “Could you have run over something last night on your way home?” Cal asked, offering her a hand up.

  “I don’t know. If I did, I didn’t notice it. Everything was fine when I got home.”

  “If it’s a slow leak, it can take a little while for them to go completely flat.”

  She brushed a hand across her forehead. Her face felt stiff. “They’re brand new tires. My parents didn’t want me driving across country without having the old ones replaced. I’ll have to call for a tow.”

  “They’ll charge you an arm and a leg. I can take the wheels off and run them to a garage. If you ran over something, they can be plugged.”

  “It’s too much, Cal.”

  “Naw. It will only take me a few minutes.”

  “You mean hours. Nothing takes a few minutes here.”

  He grinned. “Well—The tow will probably cost you about a hundred bucks. If you have to replace the tires it will be between a hundred and hundred fifty apiece, depending on the type of tire you want, plus the service fee to put them on. If I take them in and all they need is to be plugged, you’ll just be out the cost of the repair.”

  At a time when she was saving every dime for the deposit, hookup fees, and first month’s rent for an apartment, the projected cost was mind-boggling. And she had to have her car to get to work.

  “All right, you’ve convinced me.” She brushed a hand over her forehead and smoothed away a few stray tendrils that from sides of her face. “This is unbelievable.”

  “Relax. We’ll deal with this then go out for something to eat and hit the movies later.”

  “I wanted time to work on your video clips. You may need them on Monday.”

  “We can work on them tomorrow. Unless you have something else planned.”

  She shook her head. “No, I don’t have anything planned. I haven’t heard from Zach, and I was just going to hang here.”

  “If he’s out in the desert doing maneuvers, they may have decided to extend their stay.”

  “I didn’t say he was out in the desert.” How had he guessed?

  “You said he runs five miles or more a day, he’s in the Navy, and he’s bee
n gone for two days without word. It doesn’t take a mental giant to figure out he’s a SEAL, Kathleen. My Marine division worked with some of them in Afghanistan. In fact, it was a SEAL Team who saved my life after the IED exploded under our Humvee. I’m not going to say anything to anyone about him.

  “Oh, and I’ll need your keys to get the jack out of the trunk.”

  Her throat burned and tightened at his reference to the IED which had taken his lower leg. She turned away before he could read her expression. “I’ll get them.”

  “I’ve never changed a tire in my life that I didn’t get dirty doing it.” Cal removed his button up cotton shirt and his T-shirt, exposing a well-toned chest with a light coating of brown hair and muscular shoulders. A small tattoo consisting of three names crossed his pectoral muscle on the left side.

  He held out the shirts. “If you’ll put those somewhere, I’d appreciate it.”

  Kathleen draped his shirt over the back of one of the kitchen chairs and tried not to stare. There was one deep scar on the back of his right arm and another at the waistband of his jeans above his hip. They did nothing to detract from the masculine beauty of his body.

  What was she doing getting mixed up with someone as attractive as he was? He could be beating women off with a stick. He probably did. Although he didn’t act like it. But how was she to know? Lee hadn’t acted like it either.

  Using her jack and his, Cal positioned them where they’d create the best stability. “You can crank one while I do the other. Then I’ll take the lug nuts off and we’ll be good to go.”

  They worked together to keep the car level as it rose high enough for him to remove the flats.

  He had to work hard at some of the lug nuts, most likely put on by machine. On a whim, Kathleen filmed him with her cell phone while he worked. His muscular biceps bunched every time he put pressure on the lug wrench, and her video of it proved he was capable of doing things physical even off-site.

  It also gave her an opportunity to admire him from behind a camera, so he couldn’t tell how affected she was by all that bare, manly skin. The early morning sun glinted off the blondish highlights in his hair. If he let it grow out, would it be wavy or straight?

 

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