What the Hail

by Lani Lynn Vale

  I hadn’t seen him since I’d checked on him two days after the incident.

  Ever since I’d done nothing but think about the man.

  Today, it’d gotten to the point where I almost asked Hennessy if she knew Baylor’s number so I could text him.

  Which would’ve been a bad, bad idea. Super, duper, very bad.

  Hennessy knew that I had a thing for Baylor. She also knew that I was in a position where I couldn’t put anything into another relationship.

  She didn’t know much, but she knew enough that she’d be concerned.

  Which was why I’d been putting it off for the last two weeks.

  Him running by today had been just what I’d needed.

  I’d follow him for a little while, get my fix, and go back home.

  Except that I hadn’t expected him to lead me into a part of the neighborhood that led to basically nowhere.

  I’d just topped the hundredth hill when I realized that the road I was on ended at a path that led straight into the woods.

  “You’re following me. Why?”

  I blinked and turned, my heart leaping into my throat when I saw the man standing beside the tree, partially concealed in the shadows.

  “I’m curious by nature.”

  He snorted and grunted something under his breath.

  “So, your curiosity told you to follow me?”

  I shrugged. “Sure, we’ll go with that.”

  He chuckled as he made his way out of the shadows and then took a seat on the curb.

  “You come here a lot?” I questioned him, looking around the area as I did.

  He nodded. “Every time I run. Just so happens that the neighborhood dead ends into this.”

  I bit my lip, then decided, fuck it. I needed to know.

  “Is your ball okay?”

  Baylor’s lip tipped up into a tiny semblance of a smirk.

  “Perfectly fine,” he paused. “Would you like to see?”

  I shook my head frantically and swung my leg over the bike seat, standing on shaky legs.

  Jesus, I was sore.

  Who knew riding a bike for a few miles would make me want to lie down and cry?

  He watched me get off, and his eyes warmed at seeing how shaky my legs were.

  “New bike?”

  I nodded and took a few steps, my hands on the handlebars as I guided the bike with me. “It is. I bought it at the thrift store. The lady told me that she bought it for herself, rode it three times for less than a half a mile each time, and decided that her knees were too old for that ‘tomfoolery.’”

  He burst out laughing at that.

  “Let me guess. Middle-aged woman, five foot six or so. Cute, curly red hair?”

  I nodded emphatically. “Yes, how did you know?”

  “My mom,” he began. “She had this idea in her head that she was going to start riding her bike to the thrift store on days that she volunteered there. She told me a few days ago that she gave the bike to a young ‘fox’ who looked like she could actually ride it.”

  I grinned at that. “You’ll have to tell her that it isn’t that easy for me, either.”

  He winked and gestured with his head for me to follow. I sighed as I leaned my bike against the tree and hurried after him.

  “Where are you going?” I questioned as we moved deeper and deeper into the woods.

  “You’ll see.”

  ***

  “Pongo was my MWD—military working dog,” he said, looking at the fence. “He was mine. I had him from the moment he stepped on that shitty soil and stayed with him for four years until I got back here.”

  “You were hurt?”

  He shook his head once. “While on leave for an emergency,” he swallowed. “My sister’s death. I was hit by a drunk driver. Kid was four times the legal limit. I’m lucky I didn’t lose the ability to fucking walk when he hit me.” He paused. “Anyway, I was obviously medically discharged, but my canine partner wasn’t. When he was retired, I fought tooth and nail to get him once I realized he was up for adoption.”

  “Once you realized?” I hesitated.

  He nodded. “I was in contact with my old CO—commanding officer—when it came to Pongo and his whereabouts. The moment I heard about him, Pongo had already been home for a while. When I applied to adopt him, it was to find out six months later that since I had a pre-existing condition that they thought would inhibit me from caring for him properly, that I’d been denied.”

  My heart hurt for him.

  I looked back over at the dog who was laying at the fence, staring at the man just like the man was staring at him.

  “How did he end up here?”

  The place was a freakin’ storage facility. There was literally nothing there for the poor dog to do, and it was more than obvious that the people who had adopted him had done it for one purpose and one purpose only. To guard the facility.

  What was in there that they needed guarding?

  And would the dog guard it?

  He didn’t look like he would.

  He looked like he’d rather jump the fence and pounce on Baylor then smother him in doggie kisses.

  Both boys looked absolutely miserable.

  “Ninety percent of MWD—Military Working Dogs—are adopted by their handlers,” he said. “Then eight percent are given up to either former handlers or police agencies.”

  “And the other two?”

  “Normal civilians.”

  “And what are these people?” I persisted.

  “Former handlers. Well, it’s a husband and wife team running this place, and the husband was a handler. From what I can tell, they’re good people. They make him stay outside, but according to the letter of the law, he’s got shelter, food, water and periodic checkups. He’s well cared for.”

  Well cared for and cared about were two different things.

  “So, you what, torture yourself by running over here?” I asked curiously.

  He shrugged. “Gotta get a run in anyhow. This is the halfway point between here and there.”

  “What are the odds that he’d wind up somewhere so close to you?” I asked.

  Baylor’s mouth quirked. “I knew someone that knew someone. Good friend by the name of Jack helped me hack into the files. Got these people approved.”

  “If that was the case, why didn’t you just have him hack into your files and get them to approve you?”

  He grimaced. “Thought about it. But I caused such a stink in the beginning when I found out that I didn’t get him that everyone in that department knew my name by then. Would look kind of suspicious if they gave the dog to me after everyone who’d been involved told me no.”

  I frowned.

  That kind of…sucked.

  Really, really hard.

  “Why can’t you steal him away?” I blurted.

  “Pongo has…issues. He has to be seen by a vet at least once a month, if not more than that. Something about him having too much blood in his body or something. That’s also the reason he retired.” He paused. “Once a month, he gets taken to the vet, and they drain off excess blood.”

  “Well, that just…sucks.”

  He grunted in agreement. “Sure, the fuck does.”

  Chapter 9

  If you tickle me, I won’t think it’s funny. I will, however, laugh when I punch you in the face.

  -Words people don’t expect to hear when they’re tickling you

  Baylor

  “You’re sure you’re feeling up to it?”

  I flipped my brother off.

  He meant well. I knew that.

  However, everyone was treating me like I was an invalid.

  It’d been two weeks since the incident, and they were still acting like I’d nearly died.

  In retrospect, I realized that I’d certainly felt like I was dying. However, actually dying probably hadn’t been in the cards for me.

  Yet, here t
hey were, still acting like I was a dainty little flower instead of a capable adult.

  “Yes, Travis,” Hannah said. “Give him a freakin’ break.”

  I grinned at Hannah and pulled her to my chest, giving her a hug.

  “Don’t touch my wife.”

  I let Hannah go, but not before I dropped a kiss on her cheek.

  “For good luck,” I cooed at her.

  My brother tried to punch me, but I danced away before he could so much as swing in my direction.

  “You’re bad, Bay,” she teased.

  I winked again and picked up my bat bag, tossing it carelessly over my shoulder as I headed to the dugout.

  We were playing a friendly game of softball today.

  The Hail Raisers and the Swamp Jockeys, another towing company from one county over, were rivals.

  We had our annual softball game every single year, and every single year that I was home, I played.

  Last year I’d been out, but this year, I was ready.

  There was a man on the other team, his name was Sergio, who continuously kicked my ass.

  This was my year, though. I could feel it.

  Being in my own little world as I walked, I almost missed the legs.

  Almost.

  Those legs, though. They were hard to miss.

  They’d been in my thoughts for a long time now, and I was getting to the point where I was almost desperate.

  My eyes traveled up the legs that were stretched out on the bleacher in front of her, up to the same fucking pair of tiny jean shorts that I told her to never throw away, causing me to smile.

  “You kept them.”

  My eyes jerked up to the woman, who’d been deep in conversation with her friends, Hennessy and Krisney.

  I grinned at that.

  If there were two women in this entire place that she could’ve had, befriending them had practically assured that she’d be thrust into my space around every turn.

  Hennessy being married to my best friend, and Krisney being my brother’s ‘not so ex’, meant that it was almost guaranteed that I’d see Lark.

  I fucking loved it.

  But, for some reason, it hadn’t occurred to me that she’d be here today.

  “Yeah,” Lark said softly. “How are you?”

  I’d just seen her that morning, but it felt like freakin’ weeks.

  It’s like my eyes were thirsting for just a glance of her.

  She had her hair piled on top of her head in a messy knot, and it definitely worked for her.

  Her smile was small, but it was definitely there.

  “I’m good, honey,” I said. “You here to watch the game?”

  She nodded.

  “Good.”

  With that I kept moving, knowing that she was watching my ass as I walked away.

  ***

  Lark

  “What…” Krisney turned to me. “Was that?”

  Before I could answer, Hennessy piped in. “That was hawwwwt.”

  My brows rose. “It is pretty hot out here,” I tried to distract them. “I rode my bike to work today. When I got there, I had to go change clothes because everything was drenched. My underwear. My shirt. My bra. It was rather gross, if you ask me.”

  “You know damn well I wasn’t talking about the weather,” Hennessy countered. “What was that?”

  She gestured to the man walking away from us with a tilt of her chin.

  Before I could reply, however, Tate Casey passed us, pulling on Hennessy’s ponytail as he passed.

  “Hey!” Hennessy cried out. “What the crap?”

  “What the crap?” I snickered. “What are you, eleven?”

  “She’s a preacher’s daughter who used to freak the fuck out if he heard her say something more sinister than dangit. Trust me. What the crap was pretty good for her,” Krisney said. “Now spill.”

  Once again, we were interrupted, this time by Hannah arriving with her son fast asleep in a stroller.

  She took a seat, crossed her legs and looked at me intently.

  “What?” I asked.

  “What was that?”

  I rolled my eyes skyward and wondered if I’d get out of telling these women what ‘that’ was.

  The way they were all staring at me so intently, I highly doubted it.

  “There’s nothing to tell,” I hedged.

  There weren’t just three snorts in response to my weak explanation, though, there were quite a few more.

  My eyes widened, and I turned, realizing then that not only were the three women in the front row listening to me but so was another woman who was just walking up.

  I had no clue who she was, but the other ladies with me knew her.

  “Kennedy!” Hannah waved. “Come sit down.”

  Kennedy took a seat on the other side of Hannah, which made her as close to me as Hannah and Hennessy were.

  “So, you’re the one that our Baylor can’t shut up about.”

  My brows went up.

  “Our Baylor?”

  “Baylor’s sort of our mascot.”

  My brows furrowed.

  “He bounces around everywhere, picking up slack where he’s needed,” Hannah explained. “Pretty sure that he doesn’t even need to work at this point, though.”

  Before I could ask her to explain what she was talking about, the stadium around us went quiet as a girl of about fifteen made her way out to the mound.

  “Is that…”

  “Yep,” Hennessy answered Kennedy’s question.

  “Adorable,” Krisney said. “I didn’t know that she was singing today, or that they were back.”

  It was like they were having a conversation partially in their heads because I had no fucking clue what they were talking about.

  “Umm,” I paused. “What are y’all talking about?”

  The newcomer, Kennedy, grinned.

  “That’s Adrienna, the daughter of Andie.” Kennedy pointed across the gate to where a woman was sitting, waving at her girl, who waved back. “They’re apparently old friends of the Hails. I only met them a couple of months ago when I sold her and her daughter a chicken.”

  “A chicken?” I asked.

  Kennedy nodded. “I raise chickens, goats, and sheep.”

  I nodded my head. “That’s pretty cool.”

  I meant that, too.

  I’d always wanted chickens.

  Not an overly large amount, mind you, but a few. Like two or three.

  But, being in the big city of Dallas, I wasn’t allowed to have them in our backyard. Not that my ex would’ve allowed that anyway.

  If it made me even remotely happy, I wasn’t allowed to do it.

  Grocery shopping? I saw people and that made me happy, so I wasn’t allowed to do it.

  Running to the post office? I got so much pleasure out of dropping off the mail that my ex decided that he would go with me as soon as he realized I got something out of it.

  Sure, for me they were my only chances to get away from his overbearing, controlling ways, but he saw it as me wanting to do something pleasurable without him, so they became forbidden activities.

  And that wasn’t even including things that I truly did love to do, like get my hair done or go for a manicure.

  Those things hadn’t happened for so long that I couldn’t even remember the last time.

  The National Anthem’s first haunting notes started to fill the air, and I stood up so fast that I nearly lost my balance. I was so lost in my own head that I hadn’t even realized that the entire stadium was now standing around me.

  Shit!

  “Oh, say can you see…”

  The girl was good. She sounded like a young Reba McEntire, and I knew one day she’d go somewhere.

  Literally, there was no doubt in my mind whatsoever, she was that good.

  By the time the last words were sung and the girl’s voice trailed away, my heart was in m
y throat.

  She’d totally nailed it, and by the roar of the stadium around us, I wasn’t the only one who thought so.

  My hands hurt with how loud I was clapping.

  “God, that girl is amazing.” Kennedy shook her head in amazement.

  I completely agreed.

  “Kid has more talent with her voice than I do in my entire body,” I murmured.

  My eyes stayed on the girl as she made her way off the mound, but my heart started to pound as I watched her detour from her original path to a new one that included running straight into the arms of a man.

  The man who I had a crush on, but I wasn’t willing to admit to it.

  Baylor bent down and scooped her up, bringing her to his chest and swinging her around.

  The girl’s laugh was adorable.

  I looked away when the woman who’d been sitting in the bleachers on the opposing team’s side walked up to her daughter and Baylor, and placed her hands on both of their backs.

  Krisney shifted in her seat, pulling my attention away from the sickly-sweet sight in front of me. “Now spill.”

  Oh, I wanted to spill alright, but not the words that I’d been so close to spilling before. Now I just wanted to spill my lunch in the form of vomit.

  “Nothing to spill,” I hedged.

  And there wasn’t.

  Seeing that girl, and then the Andie chick, wrapping their arms around Baylor like they were one big, happy family was the exact thing I needed to get my head on straight again.

  And honestly, it was a good thing.

  I didn’t have the time, nor the desire, to deal with that again.

  Been there, done that, had the broken heart to prove it.

  Why was I here again?

  On that thought, I got up and walked away before I could embarrass myself by crying, leaving all four women to watch me go with varying shades of confusion on their faces.

  It was probably the first time they ever had someone walk away instead of answering their question.

  But I didn’t care.

  I’d learned to protect myself the only way I knew how.

  By walking away.

  ***

  Baylor

  With sweat dripping down my face, I walked over to our group and scanned the crowd of people left over after the game.

  “Where’s Lark?” I asked.