by Em Petrova
“I’m sure he is, but…” She met her father’s gaze. “You know how Mom felt about you?”
“Goddammit.”
“Exactly. Goddammit.”
They sat in silence, bonded by something she wasn’t willing to explain more and he wasn’t willing to discuss.
“How long before he returns?” she asked.
“A few more days, we expect. I shouldn’t even be telling you that much.”
“But you did, and I’m grateful, Daddy. Thank you.” She got up and circled the desk as her father stood, reaching out to accept her into his embrace. With her cheek pressed to his uniform shirt, she knew what her mother must have felt each time her father left. She still wasn’t convinced the lifestyle was for her, but then again, Ben wasn’t asking for more, was he? He only wanted to see her when he returned.
Going on tiptoe, she planted a kiss to her father’s leathery cheek. “Thank you.”
“Well, don’t get used to it.”
She smiled as she pulled free of his hold. “I won’t.” At least for the moment, her heart was at peace. Ben was alive and would be home soon.
* * * * *
Dahlia dropped her huge tote bag containing her knitting to the floor and kicked it under her desk. Joanie eyed her, and Dahlia sighed. “I know, I know. I need to just end it.”
The older woman gave her a gentle smile that said she might know Dahlia was referring to more than the project. She hadn’t heard from Ben in three and a half weeks. And when she demanded that her father tell her something more, he’d only given her that look. The same one he’d given her when she was little, basically telling her that she wasn’t wearing the right uniform to be given that information.
Of course, she was older and refused to be sent away quietly this time. Fat lot of good that did. She’d wheedled and demanded but her father, hard ass that he was, had only given her his usual cold stare and changed the subject.
She hadn’t liked the new topic either, since it was about Winters and how the man had been asking about her each time he saw her daddy.
She plopped into her seat and with another heavy sigh, placed her headset on. Luckily, it didn’t take long for the calls to come in and distract her. She received a call about a fishing boat accident followed by one from an elderly lady who said someone was trying to break in, but once the authorities arrived on the scene, they found it was a loose board on her house rattling in the wind.
Then the afternoon shift slowed to a crawl and Dahlia added six more inches to her blanket before Joanie came to lean against her desk.
“Honey, if you don’t tie that thing off, you’ll never get it out the door to take home. Why don’t you start something new? I have some pretty blue yarn to share with you.”
She glanced down at the thick wad of knitting under her desk, taking up all the knee space. “I guess you’re right.”
“I get the feeling you’re holding on to something else.”
“Absolutely not. This… blanket… is stress relief and something to keep me busy between calls. Same as you and Bill and even Kyle over there.” She waved toward her boss, who was clacking away with the needles on an ugly green yarn she hoped wasn’t a sweater vest, but it probably was.
Joanie’s eyes crinkled when she smiled but her lips crinkled when she frowned. Right now, she was frowning at Dahlia. “Sweetie, this job can get to you, but you can’t let it. You have to leave things at the door.”
“I know. I try.”
“Why don’t you sneak to the break area and give one of your girlfriends a call? Meet for drinks?”
She sighed again. “Serena’s upset with me and Rachel is busy tracking her ovulation so she and Kip can make babies. I haven’t heard from my other two friends since their honeymoons. I guess that means they weren’t really great friends to begin with.”
Joanie patted her arm. “Friends are difficult to keep up with when we’re all so busy running separate directions. What about dating?”
Dahlia stiffened in her seat. “I thought I was seeing someone. Well, sort of. He asked me to wait for him while he was away for work, but it’s been nearly a month and I haven’t heard from him.” The fact that she was confiding in this older coworker spoke of how desperately she needed to discuss the matter.
Having the unbiased opinion was golden, though.
“Is it usual for him to get tied up this way for work?”
Dahlia nodded, looking down at her hands.
“Is he worth waiting for?”
Now, that she wasn’t quite so decided on. She and Ben hadn’t made any commitments, only had a good time. Sure, they hit it off and she enjoyed everything from his body to his humor.
But she didn’t like his career or the roller coaster he kept strapping her onto.
“It seems like you have some thinking to do,” Joanie said as Dahlia received another call.
Putting on her calmest tone, she responded. A woman screamed her panic and Dahlia’s adrenaline kicked in. Within seconds, she hunched tensely over her desk, knitting squashed under her boot and Ben the furthest thing from her mind as she walked a caller through performing rescue breathing on her husband.
During these times, Dahlia had a habit of counting down the seconds before the medics arrived. Numbers seemed to flash behind her eyes as she told the woman to once again listen for her husband’s breathing.
“H-he’s breathing! It’s light but I feel it on my cheek!” the caller cried.
Tears hit the backs of Dahlia’s eyes. The emotional storm inside her called for a visit to the club, to Ben Knight’s bed… But she didn’t know when or if she’d ever see him again.
Seconds later, the medics arrived and took over. Dahlia slouched in her chair as relief left her as wrung out as an old dishrag.
“All right, dear?” Joanie asked, seated with her knitting in her lap again. “That was a tough call.”
“Yes,” she managed to say, because her mind was going a hundred miles a minute. Joanie had asked if Ben was worth waiting for, and she hadn’t known how to reply. After that last call, she had a bit more perspective on life.
Just as she was determined to help the people who needed her at the worst possible times of their lives, Ben was out there doing the same—protecting the lives of citizens. And he was no less passionate about it.
She stepped up to Joanie and rested her hand on the woman’s shoulder. “I don’t know him well enough to say if he is worth waiting for, but I guess I owe it to myself to find out. Thanks for listening to me.”
She hurried to the break area and found her phone in her purse. After her father had refused to tell her anything about Ben or his whereabouts, she’d done some digging on her own. It wasn’t hard to find a whole family of Marines named Knight. She’d saved a phone number, and now it was time to make the call.
As she leaned against the break table, she tried to slow her heart. The phone rang twice. Halfway through the third, a woman answered.
“Hello, I’m looking for Ben Knight.”
“He’s not home right now.”
“Um… Well, do you know when he may return?”
Was this Ben’s mother? The woman sounded too young. Perhaps a sibling.
“I’m not sure of that. Ben is known for going his separate way and coming back with stories about being shacked up with some woman in Miami or Cabo for a weekend.”
The words punched Dahlia squarely in the gut. She leaned forward, trying to wrap her head around it.
“Are you one of his girlfriends? I can take a message for him, but I can’t guarantee he will get back to you.” The woman’s accent was deep South. And her sweet drawl was slicing Dahlia to the heart.
“I-I… No, not his girlfriend. No message.”
She ended the call and pressed the phone to her chest. Dammit, how stupid could she be? Even if Ben was actually still on some dangerous mission to protect their freedoms, he was a player. Just as she’d suspected early on. But his honeyed request for her to wait for him had been playin
g around her brain far too many weeks, until she’d forgotten that part of her hesitation.
He was probably just in some tropical climate, sleeping off a sex-a-thon with some gorgeous woman while Dahlia stupidly wasted her thoughts on him. Clinging to a man was not her way, and she was going to break the bad habit starting now.
She deleted the number she’d just called and returned to work. After she took a seat and had her headset at the ready, she reached under her desk, grabbed her knitting and tied it off. The snip of the scissors made Joanie look up and smile at her, but Dahlia wasn’t feeling so positive about the break. She needed a little more time to get Captain Ben Knight out of her system.
* * * * *
Ben’s skin burned where they’d taken a flame to him. The smell of burning hair had haunted him for days after, even though the hairs on his forearms were long since shriveled and the burns treated.
Fuck, things hadn’t just gone sideways—he and his team had dropped straight into the pits of hell when they’d walked into the South American hovel to rescue a US special ops force being held hostage. Then Ben had become the hostage.
He leaned forward and dropped his head into his hands as memories swept him.
Rocko had taken the first bullet, followed by Roades. Dammit, Ben couldn’t quit thinking about the pain twisting his little brother’s face as he fell. Yet his other brothers kept assuring him Roades was fine, a superficial wound that was on the mend and he was already back to being his usual, snide asshole self.
Ben watched the memory play like a movie again through his head, thinking that at some point his baby brother had grown up and become a true credit to the team he served—he hadn’t even made a noise when the bullet had ripped through his leg.
The moment had shocked Ben so much that he hadn’t noticed the guy coming up behind him. In seconds, he’d been fighting for his life, a wire around his neck as he was dragged away. To his relief, he hadn’t been strangled, but that was short-lived because they’d placed him with the other hostages and added him to the ranks of the tortured.
What he knew of the rest of the mission was cloudy, given in bits and pieces by his brothers. Sean had taken charge, managed to kill a few of the thugs guarding the place and scrambled to get Knight Ops out.
But it was too late to get them all out and he’d had to make the hard decision of saving five and leaving Ben behind. He kept telling Ben that he knew as captain, Ben would have done the same, and that was the only way he’d managed to walk away. Ben knew by that speech that his brother was still aching over being forced into making the choice.
He rubbed at the bandage covering his forearm. He was told to stay out of the sun while the burns healed, but the warm rays were the only thing he had right now. Even thoughts of Dahlia made his stomach roll.
Dear God. Dahlia.
Though she couldn’t know it, she was the only thing that had gotten him through that hell. When the enemy came for him to deliver that final beating, Dahlia’s beautiful face had given him the strength to break the guard’s neck and then turn his own weapon against him.
Sure, four US hostages had gotten to escape, but not before two others were killed. At least Ben had the satisfaction that he’d sent the bad guys on their way to hell and maimed several others who had kept them imprisoned and taken hourly joy in torturing fellow countrymen.
Dahlia had gotten him through it all, and now he was avoiding going home to her. He’d told her two weeks and he’d lost count of what month it even was now. All he knew was he’d probably lost her.
For the best, he kept telling himself. The woman deserved all the good in the world, and that was having a man who was there for her. How many of her smiles had he missed? All those nights he could have been holding her. Hell, he didn’t know nearly enough about her, only that he’d never felt this way before. None of the Maddies, Kylas and Isabellas had kept him full of hope in that prison.
Sweet Dahlia… he had to go back to her. But not yet. First, he needed to shake what they’d done to him.
Water glistened on the dancing waves. The Gulf had always brought him solace, but today it was just water and the sand clinging to the hems of his jeans just grains. Neither was enough.
He shifted his jaw. It wasn’t broken as he’d once thought, and the bruising had gone down considerably. His skin was fading from black and blue to green and yellow. A few more days of sunshine and he’d be ready.
After he’d been debriefed, they’d given him a cell phone but he’d yet to use it. How easy it would be to dial Dahlia. Hell, even if she was at work, he could call 911 again. A small smile twisted his lips. She’d been so pissed that he’d called there. He couldn’t blame her, but her annoyance had only fired his blood.
For the first time since he’d last been with her, his cock stirred. If she walked up beside him right now, his chest would lose some of that empty hollowness and he’d pull her down on his lap, slanting his lips across hers as he stroked her body into a frenzy of need.
One call and he could make that connection again.
Leaning back in the sand, he fished the device out of his jeans. He’d kept it on silent so had missed the texts from his family.
Maman: When you’re ready to come home, I’ll have your favorite grits ready.
Tyler: Hey, butthead. When you coming home to teach me how to ride that old motorcycle?
He might have chuckled if he had it in him, but after the past weeks, laughter felt like foreign territory. And the last thing he was doing was teaching his little sister how to ride that bike. Ben continued thumbing through the messages.
Rocko: I didn’t get a chance to thank you before they dragged me out of there and onto a plane for surgery, but I will thank you now. If you hadn’t slammed into that guy at the last minute, the bullet would have taken a much different path and I wouldn’t be lying here convalescing with sexy nurse Addison bringing me drinks and giving me back rubs. Cheers, Cap’n. It’s a pleasure serving with you.
Sean: When you get back, whattaya say about you, me, a couple of fishing poles and some bait? The catfish are biting.
Ben swallowed hard and pushed himself to read them all. Each text a sort of get-well card, and they touched him.
Roades had sent a photo of his leg and a pretty woman posing over it, her skirt riding high on her tanned thighs.
Ben grunted with amusement. Typical Roades. Injured and living it up. The kid probably had a beer in one hand too.
Dylan: I hope this eases your mind a bit—Chaz, Sean and I paid a visit to Lexi’s asshole “friend.” You don’t need to worry about him anymore. He isn’t even in the state.
Sitting up straighter, Ben re-read that message. He didn’t know what he isn’t even in the state meant, but he wouldn’t put anything past his brothers when it came to their little sis. She had wrapped them all around her fingers from birth, and each brother was more protective of her than the next, resulting in her own personal hitman squad. The fact that some men would prey on her weaknesses meant Ben would have to step it up. He needed to get more involved, watch over her more. Screen her boyfriends.
Not that their daddy didn’t do a good job of that, greeting them at the door with a shotgun resting on his knees.
Chaz: Dude, you are missing out on Maman’s home-cooking. She’s outdoing herself. Come home quick and we’ll do some fishin’.
Typical Chaz. Keeping things light when it was clear he was concerned about him. Ben pressed his lips together and read on.
Another from Dylan: Catfish are hot right now. Come home and we’ll go to the cabin. You can bring your girl.
Ben’s heart shot into his throat.
Sean: I know Dylan let you in on the Lexi thing, but don’t worry about anything. We took care of the guy.
Damn, that didn’t ease Ben’s mind one damn bit. What the hell had his brothers done to the guy—trussed him up and tossed him in the swamp?
Sean again: Lexi’s pretty pissed. If she asks you, you don’t know anyth
ing.
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered.
Maman: Your pére got the spit out and a hog ready to roast when you get home. We miss you, Ben.
Pére: Could use some help from someone who isn’t full of estrogen to control these brothers of yours. Do you know what they did?
No, and Ben wasn’t sure he wanted to. Maybe he’d never go home. The sun, sand and surf were all he needed.
Except it wasn’t. He wanted to sit down at the dinner table to his maman’s good food and hear exactly what had gone down between his brothers and Lexi’s boyfriend.
Lexi: You guys all think you have to protect me, but when are you gonna learn that I can handle myself?
Finally, a chuckle escaped Ben. If Lexi was giving sass, then she was okay.
Lexi: Some woman called the house for you a few weeks ago. She didn’t leave a message.
He stopped breathing, just staring at the screen. Those little black letters held so much hope for him. Could it be Dahlia who’d called? He hadn’t given her any number to contact him, but he knew her—she’d be resourceful.
With all the messages read, that chasm opened inside him once more. He was sitting here waiting for the things he loved to help him move on, when what he really needed was one woman who had made him forget before.
He stood, not bothering to dust the sand from his jeans. Then he raised a hand in salute to the water. He was going home and find Dahlia to let the healing begin.
Chapter Six
Dahlia ended her call with a happy sigh and leaned back in her seat to process what she’d just gone through. A life saved. A child crying happy tears. The world was good, at least for the moment.
A movement caught her eye, and she turned in time to see Joanie doing a weird walk-jog across the room to Dahlia’s desk.
“What the…?”
Joanie grabbed her by the shoulders and leaned close to whisper, “There’s someone outside who wants to see you.”
She blinked. “Is it one of my friends? I can’t leave my desk right now, but I could slip away and text her.”
“No, no! It’s not a girlfriend.” Joanie waggled her brows.
