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Protect Her (Aussie Military Romance Book 2)

Page 12

by Kenna Shaw Reed


  “I’m not like that,” she should be offended, but she had her own concerns. “You’re the one who never kept it zipped.”

  “Xanthe, I promise you. You are the first woman I’ve ever been faithful to and the only woman I’ve ever wanted to be faithful for.”

  She tried to hold those thoughts as they slept.

  Mack

  Date night had been everything he planned and even more. A late check out after another ride on the swing and he left the room feeling like a real man.

  The concierge greeted them like lost friends and privately assured him that the room could be fitted with the hoist at any time should they like to return.

  If he could have skipped through the foyer, he would have. Instead, while they were waiting for their taxi next to a family, his world came crashing down. Xanthe had ducked back inside and missed the whole conversation.

  “There’s our taxi,” he heard the woman say to her partner.

  “No, it’s a wheelchair one, let the cripple get it.”

  “Shh, you can’t call him that,” her words would have meant something if they weren’t delivered with a giggle.

  “What do you think she sees in him? I mean, did you see the girl? She’s young and not ugly.”

  “She’s probably waiting to take half his payout, I mean, she’s too young to throw her life away with a man like that …”

  “Stop it, she’s coming back and might hear you.”

  “Do you think he paid her by the hour?”

  “I said, stop it, you’re making me laugh and she might hear us.”

  Did strangers really think that Xanthe was a hooker or a girlfriend only hanging around him for a payout?

  He remembered the conversation all weekend instead of enjoying their last days together.

  When Xanthe dropped him at the rehab facility on the Monday morning, he wondered what on earth would possess her to come back.

  He had nothing to offer a woman like Xanthe.

  Nothing at all.

  The Price to Protect Her

  Mack

  He knew the minute her flight touched down in Brisbane and imagined her waiting to disembark, then go down to collect her luggage. The long wait for a shuttle bus or an even longer wait for a taxi. The hand controls on his new car were getting easier to work, but the airport traffic could get confusing.

  Yesterday he’d wanted to slam on the foot brake, except his leg didn’t work and by the time he corrected himself, the other driver was screaming at him as if he was an idiot.

  Which he was.

  A pathetic use of a human who couldn’t even drive into town to buy his girlfriend some flowers. After nearly causing the accident, he went back to his new unit and wallowed into the spiral that he couldn’t seem to shake.

  Any time he left home he risked being laughed at, or stuffing up in some way. He used to walk into a bar with his mates and own the joint. Now, he was lucky if he could get attention of a barman to pour him a beer. So far he’d resisted the urge to buy beer by the case and drink it at home – more because he didn’t want to have to ask for it to be carried out to the car for him.

  The stupid white pills that dulled all his senses had run out and his doctor had insisted on him taking up counselling again before writing out another script. He didn’t need counselling, what was the point. He needed to man up and feel lucky to be alive. Instead of missing the legs that didn’t work, he should be grateful for the parts of him that still did.

  Now that he was living alone, he came and left the rehab facility at will, which meant not at all for the last two weeks. The effort of getting out of bed, dressed and out to the car didn’t seem worth it for an hour in the gym. Handing over his own patient clients to other volunteers was too easy and no one was knocking on his door saying he was needed, missed.

  “In cab, CU in 15,” her text arrived while he was still sitting in the bathroom deciding whether or not to go into the office and meet her.

  He dreamt last night of having Xanthe walk in on him with another woman. The whole scene seemed so real, Xanthe’s disbelief and then outrage. Her leaving in tears of relief that she could now move on with her life with someone better. Him paying the woman what he owed for setting it up in the first place. Waking in a cold sweat, torn between wanting Xanthe back in his arms and bed, and knowing how happy she had been up north. The only messages he’d been getting from his unit were about Xanthe and the work she was doing. She was going out with the girls and even helping Charli plan her wedding to the good doctor.

  Fuck it, Xanthe deserved to be happy. “Not going to gym. Busy.”

  He had to cut her out of his life for her own good.

  Xanthe

  Xanthe read and reread the text, what the hell did he mean he was too busy to see her? It had never been convenient to talk while she was away, he was always busy or about to go out. She had been looking forward to long sexting or even sexy video chats, instead it was almost as soon as she left, his life had begun.

  Now he couldn’t even come to rehab on his day off to see her?

  She had so much to tell him, they had so much to look forward to.

  “Xanth, great to see you,” straight into her first meeting with the facility manager who had already reviewed her reports. “We’ve got some additional funding to fully implement your program here, including transition arrangements for the soldiers as they progress from hospital to rehab and then into independent living.”

  “About that, I was wondering how Lieutenant Mackenzie is going,” as soon as she asked the question, Harry’s face told the story.

  “At your suggestion, we fast tracked the driving lessons. A car became available and he found a unit not too far away.”

  “It must have worked, I haven’t heard from him much since he moved out of here,” she clenched her knees from shaking. Why the hell did she leave him and how bad had it gotten?

  “To be frank, neither have we. I can’t go into much detail because of patient privilege, but there are a number of people who are worried about him. He is cancelling appointments, referring his own small client base over to others and refusing to take any calls. I’d hoped that he would be here to see you and we could start again.”

  “Apparently, he’s too busy to come to the gym today,” she couldn’t hide the bitterness or hurt. Getting up to go settle back into her office, “I guess I’ll give him the day to calm down and drop in after work?”

  “Xanthe, how about you take the day to think about what you really want, and not go to him out of any guilt or obligation.”

  She laughed, “Have you been talking to my friends? It seems the whole world wants me to know that there are uncomplicated, fit men out there waiting for me to get over my infatuation with Mack.”

  “We care about you,” Xanthe waited, there had to be more, “You know Mack, he’s not an easy man to deal with.”

  “The good ones never are,” she sniped. Damn it, she didn’t have any clients booked for her first day back and any paperwork could be done from bed, in between times of reacquainting herself with Mack. “Look, thank you for your concern but it’s been a long six weeks and I’ve only had a handful of days off. You don’t mind if I head home.”

  “Xanthe, think about it … are you sure?”

  “He’s all I have been thinking about.”

  There was no use warning him that she was on her way. Her only choice was to either go home first, shower and get changed into something he would appreciate or to go straight to his place and hope he was there. Then again, where would he go? She’d seen him spiral before and expected that this time would be more of the same except without someone to snap him out of it.

  She pulled out the front, next to a late model red coupe with a wheelchair rack on top. Large mag wheels and she could only guess the power under the bonnet. Her man got a machine to match his own equipment.

  This wasn’t the day for gentle knocking. Xanthe knew exactly what they both needed and it wasn’t going to
start with polite, “Hi, how are you.”

  “Open the door,” she texted as she pounded the front door. When there wasn’t a sound from inside, she started her way around the building, pounding on each window that still had curtains drawn to keep out the daylight. Her bravado started to disappear when she returned to the front door and it was still shut.

  “Mack, come on, I’ve been awake for hours and need a coffee.”

  Still nothing, “Mack, I mean it, I will start going crazy if you don’t let me in and make me a coffee.”

  Finally, the soft scrape of furniture being pushed aside as she hoped he was making his way to the front door.

  Six weeks flying high professionally meant nothing with no one to share it with. Xanthe ignored the pale, sunken face and forced him to cradle her in his lap. Her lips unrelenting until he responded with the kisses she missed.

  Mack

  He had no intention of answering the door, but when she started reminding him of how crazy she could get without caffeine, and he spied her walking around his new car …

  Mack tried to convince himself that the only reason he opened the door was to save his new car from his crazy ex-girlfriend. When she fell into his lap, he tried to convince himself that his hands on her legs was for her protection so she didn’t fall further to the ground. It would be rude not to respond to his kisses, after all, she didn’t know about the “ex-girlfriend” tag.

  When she tore off his shirt to rub his chest, teasing his nipples until they stood to attention before diving below to find his cock, he knew he’d lost. Any chance he had of ignoring her until she found someone better had disappeared in his own selfish desire for the woman he loved.

  Pressing his lips to hers, he unleashed all the pent-up passion, furrowing his hands up her skirt until she raised her hips and allowed him to free her panties.

  When she broke away, smiling and with one loving kiss and long lick around his erection, he moaned in disappointment but a little relieved. He didn’t want it to be like this, no time to reconnect, just the physical, carnal wanting to be together.

  “Coffee and shower, in that order,” she dropped her skirt next to her panties and strode around his unit in her heels and white cotton work-shirt that quickly lost the bra from underneath.

  “No, hello Mack, it’s good to see you?” he wheeled into the kitchen to put a pod in the machine.

  “What about, Xanthe, I couldn’t wait to show off my sexy car, so I met you at the airport!” Damn, she was gorgeous when mad.

  “I was busy,” he hoped the coffee machine going through its paces would drown out his excuse.

  “I can see that, drowning in self-pity is a full-time job. Want some company?”

  “I don’t need company.”

  “But I do, I’m full of self-pity. Do you know that I was seeing a guy, had to go away for work and then it’s like he ghosts me? Always too busy to talk or flirt or even banter. Then I come back to see him and he’s vanished.”

  She grabbed her own coffee of the bench and straddled him to drink it. “A girl could feel very sorry for herself. Especially when all she wants is her man to come out and play.”

  His cock was standing at full attention through his drawstring trousers. “I wasn’t ghosting you.”

  “Prove it,” she massaged him against her, long deep strokes the way he liked it.

  “I can’t,” he couldn’t tell her that she was better off without him, that he loved her too much to ask her to put up with his baggage.

  “Try,” She raised her hips so he could almost reach her. “Tell me that you weren’t ghosting me. Look me in the eye and tell me that you didn’t want me to break up with you.”

  “Xanth, don’t, please don’t make me say it.”

  “Say it,” she kept demanding with her pussy just hovering out of reach.

  “Xanthe, stop!” he cried out. Pulling her into his lap. “I missed you so fucking much that the only way was to not talk to you, pretend that you’d already moved on and so could I.”

  “Did you?”

  “What, well I tried.”

  “Who was she?”

  “What, no. Nothing like that. I meant I got a car and this place so we could stop having the whole conversation about whether it was too soon to move in together. I stopped going to the gym so we wouldn’t have to run into each other.”

  “Are you breaking up with me?” She held his face so he couldn’t avoid her eyes. It had been so easy to pretend this was for the best when she wasn’t in front of him. “Mack, are you telling me that we’re over?” one stroke of his cheek and he wavered. “Mack, do you need help finding the light again?”

  His walls came crashing down, as he held her tight. Breathed in the essence of his Xanthe, he thanked God that he hadn’t been so stupid as to do something that would send her away for good.

  Xanthe

  She had her own secrets to tell but needed to find the right time. The priority was getting Mack back into counselling, formalizing the work he did at the gym as part of his Army posting so there were Army style consequences if he went AWOL again. Of course, there were her own clients who had been building up quite a backlog.

  It had scared her, how quickly Mack could try and erase her from his life and how quickly he had spiraled. There was no way she could have done that to him, no matter how well intentioned her friends had been in encouraging her to go out and meet someone.

  “I already have some one, you know him,” she told Charli at the engagement party.

  “You’re not married or anything. Go out, check out the guys in the new unit. There’s heaps of talent for a girl who wants some fun.”

  “I’m here to work, I’ll have fun when I get home.”

  “Life with Mack in a wheelchair, seriously Xanth, what sort of fun can he be?”

  There was no convincing people who were too blind to see past the chair. Yes, there were some things they hadn’t quite managed to figure out yet, but it hadn’t even been a year since his accident. Hell, it had barely been a year since they had met.

  Good things take time, she tried to convince herself.

  Unless he didn’t want them to.

  “Xanthe, good to see you back,” Harry greeted them as if the earlier conversation had never happened.

  “Mack showed off his new car, I’m seriously jealous!” she squeezed Mack’s hand. A shower for two had started the healing process again, but when would she be able to trust that it would always end happily.

  “Well, Mack’s in luck. The counsellor has a couple of free slots this afternoon and I know that your doctor is waiting on those results before she can write you out a new prescription. When do you want to go in?”

  “Now’s as good a time as any,” Xanthe saw the emotional shutters lock down again. He was here, for her. Until he was here for himself, she had to keep her secrets locked inside her heart. At least for now.

  “He looks like crap,” Harry ordered two coffees at the café. “And already you’ve lost the happy relaxed look from this morning and have that ‘world on your shoulders’ stress.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You can lie to me, but don’t keep lying to yourself or you’ll end up worse off than Mack.”

  “We’ll be fine. I’m just happy to be back and want to catch up on all my cases. What else have I missed?”

  An hour later, Mack found them still talking. This time, he was holding wads of paper and a smile larger than she’d seen since he got out of hospital.

  “Have you ever wanted to date a rugby player?” His smile was infectious.

  “I’ve already got a boyfriend, unless there’s something you forgot to tell me?” She needed to test whether it was too soon to joke about it.

  “Okay, what if Mack 2.0 was an Army-soldier-wheelchair-rugby player? Would you still want to date him?”

  “Is that even a thing?”

  “I met a guy in the gym who’s trying out. I figured I’ve got nothing to lose, except my legs.”
<
br />   A quick kiss and he left.

  “Rugby?” she turned to Harry concerned.

  “He had to find it on his own, we couldn’t push it.”

  “But rugby?”

  “A lot of the Army guys like it, have you ever watched it at the Paralympics or Invictus games?” She shook her head. “It’s hard core, physical. The Australians used to be world champions and are looking for new talent to bring back the gold.”

  “Rugby?” she couldn’t get her head around playing the 15 man fast running game in wheelchairs.

  “You should check out some of the games online. My advice is don’t push him, but don’t let him give up when he needs a new set of wheels and he gets battered and bruised on the court.”

  “Harry, do you think he’s ready?”

  “Truthfully, if you hadn’t gone away, it might have taken another year or so for him to start looking at the future. But he had to grow up a lot. The fact that he’s come back today with you was a good first step. Be together but be separate as well. Let him find his feet.”

  “Figuratively speaking of course.”

  “Xanthe, keep your sense of humor, you’re both gonna need it.”

  Mack

  After forcing himself to live hour by hour, now the days and weeks were passing in a blur.

  Wheelchair rugby was so different the to league or union he’d grown up with. These guys all had something to prove to themselves, their mates and to sport. No way he’d ever diss how physical even training turned out to be. Sure, off the court they were all mates but once strapped in the sports wheelchair with its inclined wheels and light frame, warriors entered the court, and all bets were off.

  Rugby gave him a new purpose to train harder, changing his days and times to train with his new friends knowing they were all checking out each other’s strengths and weaknesses to exploit in a game. That didn’t stop them from offering tips and techniques.

 

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