by Marie Harte
By the time they finished two hours later, he couldn’t believe how much time had passed. They’d meandered through one and a half acres of exhibits.
“All right. This was fun,” he admitted. “I can’t believe you’ve never been here before.”
“It was Aubrey’s favorite place to go,” Zoe said quietly. “I used to tell her we’d go later. When I could get the time. I preferred hiking or going to the mountains.” She shrugged, but he could see Zoe wished she’d taken the time to go with her sister.
“Didn’t you tell me your sister was an artist?”
“A photographer.” She nodded. “She had some amazing pictures of this place. What was your favorite part?” she asked, her voice deliberately cheery.
He had to hand it to her. Zoe didn’t try to avoid her pain. Not like he did. She met it head on. He squeezed her hand, amazed they had only separated from each other a few times in all the time they’d been there. “This place is amazing. I liked Mille Fiori. It means a thousand flowers, right? I mean, come on. The glasshouse was like forty feet tall.”
She nodded. “I read that it’s 4,500 square feet in size. And that centerpiece sculpture is one hundred feet long.”
“That’s a lot of glass.”
“Yes. Oh, and one other thing.”
“Yeah?”
She gave him a quick peck on the lips, and the tingle shot all the way to his feet. “I told you so. Ha.”
“You had to rub that in.”
“Yes. When I told you where we’d be going tonight, I knew you’d think it would be boring.”
“Really? Now who’s stereotyping? Just because I’m a guy doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate art.”
She took her hand away—damn it—and crossed her arms over her chest. “Really? Because I distinctly overheard you talking to Shane about it at the gym, about what a—your words, not mine—pussy he was for hitting up all those ‘stupid museums’ just to keep his wife happy.”
“You should never eavesdrop, Zoe. It’s very unbecoming,” Gavin said in a deliberately prissy tone.
She tried not to laugh. And failed.
As she collected herself, he nudged her toward the sidewalk, and they walked back to the parking garage on Mercer. “So it was okay going there, even though you miss your sister?”
“Yes. I’m glad you went with me.”
Touched that she’d asked him to go even though she’d known it would be difficult, he nodded. “This was about more than your sister though.”
“Oh?”
“This was about trying to torture me. Confess.”
“Well, the trip did have that going for it.”
They continued to tease, passing a few other couples out for a stroll. But the encroaching darkness, and the unknown, kept Gavin on edge, especially when he spotted two unsavory men walking their way. They seemed a little too aggressive for casual strollers. And they were focused too intently on the lady and her kid coming toward Gavin for him to ignore them.
His adrenaline buzzed. “Hey, Zoe. Wait here for a minute, okay?”
She blinked. “Ah, sure.” She paused on the sidewalk, watching with understanding when the skeevier of the two guys, the one wearing a beanie and an olive-green jacket, reached for the lady’s purse strap.
“Hey,” Gavin yelled and moved closer.
The young boy with the woman looked frightened, so Gavin smiled.
“Hey, Mike, is that you?” he said to Beanie, who was still reaching for the purse. Almost there…
Beanie froze. Next to him, his friend sneered. “His name isn’t Mike, dickhead. Get lost.”
The lady and her boy moved quickly away, now behind Gavin. Content innocents wouldn’t be caught in the melee to come, Gavin kept his smile and stepped closer to the thugs. Both men smelled as if they hadn’t bathed in weeks. Up close, their pupils didn’t look right, and their jittery mannerisms hinted at drug abuse. Beanie was the taller of the two but didn’t have the mean look his tweaker friend did.
“Not Mike?” Gavin frowned. “Hmm. Must be his doppelgänger.”
The tough guy said, “What?” Then he looked Gavin over, glanced at Beanie, and shrugged. “You’ll do. Give me twenty bucks.”
“Or what?”
“What do you mean, or what?”
“I mean, if I don’t give you twenty bucks, what then?”
Beanie raised his shirt and showed off a gun tucked into his pants.
It looked dirty, and Gavin marveled that the guy hadn’t accidentally shot his dick off, if the thing was actually loaded.
“Is that a 9mm? Do you mind?” He tugged the pistol free, ejected the magazine, and cleared the round from the chamber in seconds. Then he tossed the gun into the dirt beside him, along with the magazine and round. “What do you have?” he asked the mean one.
But Mean Guy was already pulling a knife. He looked stringy but strong, and no match for a Marine with a grudge against bullies. Gavin heard loud chatter near them as they gained an audience. Then a siren in the distance. But this being the city, there was no guarantee the wailing sound signaled police coming for these two idiots.
So he handled things. He grabbed Mean Guy’s hand, twisted his wrist to make him drop the knife, and used his free hand to punch Beanie in the nose when Beanie took a step toward him.
Beanie dropped, holding his face, and moaned. Mean Guy shrieked in pain and held his wrist. But Gavin hadn’t snapped it, as much as he’d wanted to.
“Gavin, the police are on the way,” Zoe said from a few steps behind him. Calm, collected, she eased him as well. A good thing, because for a second, he’d wondered how much trouble he’d be in if he bent down to let Mean Guy get closer, then tossed him to the ground and stomped the fucker’s neck. Nothing like an internal decapitation to cut down on a crime streak.
Instead, Gavin eased away, kicked the gun and ammo farther from the criminals, and waited with Zoe for a pair of uniforms. He gave a quick statement, echoed by the woman with her son, Zoe, and a few others who’d gathered to witness.
“Fastest takedown, man,” a twentysomething guy was telling the cops. “Like a ninja. Dude did some kind of kung fu.”
The cop looked to Gavin and raised a brow.
“Simple hand-to-hand. Marine Corps.”
The cop nodded. “Thanks. We’ll contact you if we need anything else.”
They had his number. Gavin nodded, still trying to come down off the adrenaline high. Would this give him bad dreams tonight? He didn’t know.
Zoe tugged him away, and to his mortification, he heard clapping behind him.
“Semper Fi, man,” one of the onlookers yelled out.
He put up a hand to wave and walked faster.
“Slow down, Mr. Marathon. My legs don’t go that fast unless I’m running.”
“Sorry.” He let out a breath, subtly trying to calm himself.
She didn’t touch him, but Zoe helped all the same. “You know, that was pretty damn heroic.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t like the way they were looking at that woman and her kid. Christ. It’s nearly broad daylight.”
“Well, it’s almost nine, but you’re right. That was pretty gutsy of them. That or desperate.”
“Should have broken his hand. Thou shalt not steal.”
She chuckled, and Gavin relaxed even more. “Exactly. But I’m serious, Gavin. What you did was heroic, and you should be rewarded.”
His body thrummed. “Oh?”
“But not with sex. It wasn’t that impressive.”
* * *
Gavin barked a laugh at Zoe’s outright lie. Not impressive? Good God. He’d disarmed two dangerous men with his bare hands! One had a gun, the other a knife, and he’d handled them as if back in the class at Jameson’s demonstrating a simple self-defense technique.
“You neve
r showed us that clearing-the-gun move at the gym. I’d like to learn that one.”
“Hmm. It’s a little more advanced.”
They entered the parking garage, and she saw him become alert for trouble. The way he’d been while they walked back, but more so. She wondered if this episode with the purse-snatchers would bother him. Coming back from the service and having issues would surely lead to other problems with conflict. She’d seen TV specials on war trauma and PTSD, which might be what he suffered from.
Nightmares, the inability to handle crowds, body hyperarousal, sleepless nights. Just some of the symptoms of posttraumatic stress. He’d seemed okay with the crowd tonight, though to be fair, the museum hadn’t been packed, just moderately filled with art lovers who respected personal space.
Gavin unlocked her car door, then moved around to his. The expression on his face was painful to see, an emptiness in his gaze, a kind of internal hurt. But he hadn’t asked for her comfort, and a man like Gavin would have his pride.
Once inside his car, they sat in silence.
“Well? What now, Mistress?”
She forced a smirk. “Now we go to my place. Not for sex.”
“Quit reminding me,” he growled and drove her home. They chatted about the exhibit some more, and about which other cultural events he had no interest in. He agreed on never, ever seeing an opera or a ballet. But he liked quiet, intimate jazz bars, which surprised her. Jazz was fairly sophisticated music for someone not into art.
Back at her place, she took him outside to the patio. “Sit. I’m going to get you your reward.” She ignored the hungry look he shot at her body. “Vanilla hot-fudge sundae work for you?”
His slow smile struck her right in the heart. So innocent, and so at odds with that glimpse of pain she’d seen before he got into the car. “With nuts too?”
“You really think you’re that special?”
“Peanuts. Not some froufrou sugar-coated walnuts or almond knockoffs.”
“Purist.”
“You’re damn right.”
She left him smiling and returned with two bowls full of lots of vanilla ice cream, hot fudge, whipped cream, and nuts. With a cherry on top. Only to find him kneeling by her garden, shuffling dirt around.
“Hey.”
He shot up with a guilty look on his face. “Oh ah, that was fast.”
“What were you doing to my cucumbers?”
“Such accusation in that tone.” He tried to joke it off, but she saw his fists clench.
“Oh. Weeding. I see.” She totally didn’t, but she felt bad for teasing. “Look, the sundae will keep. But since you do owe me for taking you to an awesome museum—”
“Which I paid for,” he mumbled.
“Then you should take care of Violet. See? If you can name your plant, I can name mine.”
“Which one is Violet?” He started to relax.
“The big geranium in that pot. I have to move her to replace the dead thing my aunt swears will come back to life. It won’t, and she’s going to blame me for killing it, though she gave it to me already dead. The potting stuff is over there. Hop to. Chop-chop.”
He blinked. “Seriously?”
“Well, yeah. I’m eating ice cream over here.” She took a big scoop and sighed, ignoring the brain freeze. Oy. What I do for my boyfriend.
His eyes crinkled, and he laughed. Then he kissed her. “Hmm. Vanilla. Not my favorite, but the fudge makes up for it. Tell you what. I’ll do the hard labor while you feed me and tell me how brave and awesome and sexy I am.”
“Seriously?” He really made her want to laugh.
“I have self-esteem issues. Plus I’m doing your work.”
“Kind of like I was doing yours and your sister’s in Magnolia, hmm?”
“Not the same thing at all. That was a date to impress you. Now feed me, woman.”
He ate the ice cream like he was making love to it. By the time he finished, Zoe was hot and bothered. And not having any sex, because their relationship had to be more than casual.
It had to be for both of them, because Zoe feared she’d started falling for the muscular Marine with buried wounds, who owned a plant that had girlfriends and wore a smile that turned her world upside down.
And that’s how Zoe found herself wishing to trade places with a spoon on a Friday night with a man made for loving.
Chapter 11
Gavin had one hell of a nightmare, as he’d suspected he might. Zoe, the ice cream, and her lush garden had helped. He’d meditated at home before going to bed. He’d been nearly asleep, calmed down, and had just closed his eyes. Everything faded to a gentle black.
Theo must have made a noise coming home, because his bang and curse had turned into shots fired, Dan losing a leg, and Gavin shooting through a sniper’s eye just as the guy got a bead on him. He shot up in bed, his heart threatening to burst from his chest, breathing hard, and yelled for cover fire.
“Shit. Gavin, it’s me. It’s Theo.” Theo tripped over a pair of Gavin’s shoes and fell hard on his stomach. “Fuck. That hurt!”
“What the hell is going on?” Landon roared as he stomped down the stairs. The hallway light flickered on. He soon appeared in the doorway and flipped on the bedroom light, then stared at Theo on the floor. “Theo?” He leaned down. “You smell like a cheap six-pack. Or is that Boone’s I smell?”
Gavin was still trembling, his heart still racing, so he lay back and took even breaths. “Shit. I can smell it from over here. What the hell were you drinking? And hey, aren’t you underage?” he taunted, calming down. It’s okay. You’re home. Think about family. About Leon. Violet.
Zoe.
This time his heart did a strange leap of delight, imagining the sexy witch with the smart mouth and ice-blue eyes. No sex, my ass. She totally owed him more than a hot fudge sundae. Focusing on the mundane, on his breathing, on Zoe and his family, he slowly but surely came back to himself while Landon ragged on their brother.
Unfortunately now awake, Gavin had to move. He wouldn’t fall back to sleep easily, he knew from experience. He rose to a sitting position and stared down at his baby brother, ignoring Landon’s less-than-subtle look of concern directed his way. “Theo, you don’t look so good.”
Theo glared, or tried to. Because in the next breath, he turned and puked all over the floor.
Landon grimaced. “Oh man. It’s pink. Whatever he drank is gonna stain.”
“Hey, Major Clean, go grab the carpet cleaner while I haul Little Boozer into the bathroom.”
“Up…yours,” Theo managed before vomiting again.
“Hell, Bro.” Gavin tried not to gag. “It stinks like sugared vomit and cheap alcohol. Just tell me you didn’t sleep with anyone too. Trust me. Bad booze makes for worse bed companions.”
Theo tried to flip him off and groaned instead.
“Let’s go.” Gavin hauled him off the floor and into the bathroom, sticking Theo’s head in the toilet just in time while the kid upchucked even more. Gavin hurried back to the doorway to get away from that awful smell.
More retching ensued, but at least he was standing upwind from it. “That’s just gross.”
“So are you.” More moaning.
“Do you even have anything else in your stomach to get rid of? How much did you drink, anyway?”
“I only had three shots. Maybe a cocktail or two. It was the clams beforehand, I think.” Theo spat into the toilet.
“Wait. Cheap drinks and bad seafood? You’re a moron.” Gavin yelled the facts to Landon, who laughed. No sympathy from that corner. Gavin turned back to Theo. “Stain must have come out, because Major Clean is amused. You’re lucky.”
Another finger. It was like his brothers lost all creativity when insulting him. No challenge there. He left Theo after figuring the boy could handle himself and his porcelain savior.<
br />
Joining Landon in the kitchen, he watched his older brother boil water for hot cocoa. They’d never done tea, and left to Gavin, they never would. It was too…unmanly.
“Where’s the hot chick?” Gavin asked. “And I don’t mean blow-up Ava. I mean the real one.”
Landon shot him a scowl. “Asshole.”
Apparently still not over the blow-up doll incident. A stroke of genius on Theo’s part, that. “She’s hanging with Sadie and Elliot this weekend. Cousins only. I’m not invited.”
“Ouch.”
“But neither is Joe, Rose’s husband.” Rose—Ava’s younger, married cousin. “So I’m fairly okay with the exclusion.”
“Hurray. More Landon time for the family.”
Landon smiled through his teeth. “Lucky, lucky you.” He leaned back against the counter, clad in only a pair of shorts. “So what happened? Another nightmare?”
Gavin nodded.
“You haven’t been having too many of them lately.”
“Keeping tabs, Big Brother?” Because no way Landon knew that firsthand, since he rarely spent the night at home anymore, nearly always at Ava’s.
“Yep. Deal with it.” Landon shrugged. “What happened to set you off? Do you know?”
Since Landon had seen his own mess while in the Marine Corps, Gavin felt comfortable—to a point—talking to him about things. Though Landon would never admit it, he’d had his own sleepless nights. His own stressors to deal with since becoming a civilian, from shit that stemmed from his own time in the desert.
“I know exactly what happened. I was expecting the nightmare, if you want the truth. After Zoe and I went out tonight, we were walking back to get the car when two druggies attacked a lady. Or tried to attack her. I took care of them. The violence of it shook me is all.”
Landon’s gaze sharpened as he looked Gavin over from top to bottom. “You okay?”
“Fine. It was fun, in a way.” Not as fun as breaking their bones might have been. A surprising anger resurged. “Fuck, Landon. It was barely dark. Some lady and her kid, who couldn’t be that much older than Colin, were walking down the public sidewalk. Near Seattle Center. And these assholes tried to take her purse.” He snorted. “Like that shitty gun and rusty knife would do much damage against”—he struck a ninja pose—“Guns of Steel.”
