It Takes Special Forces [Love on the Rocks 9] (Siren Publishing LoveXtreme Forever)

by Dixie Lynn Dwyer

  “I do. You don’t know how to handle rejection,” Turbo stated firmly.

  Max laughed.

  Ford gave Turbo a sideways glance. “Really? Like you handle rejection well?”

  “I don’t get rejected,” Turbo stated with cockiness.

  “Um, bro, Essie turned you down, too. If I recall correctly, she practically ran from Carlyle’s bar that night,” Max teased. They chuckled, and Turbo tossed a chip at him.

  They were quiet a few moments.

  “Do you think she’ll show up?” Max asked and then cleared his throat. He was acting like he didn’t want anyone to think he was a wuss for hoping what they were all hoping.

  “I doubt it. We scare her,” Turbo said.

  “I don’t know. I kind of got this feeling this time, like I got under her skin and she reacted,” Ford replied.

  “Great, so you turned her off by being aggressive,” Max said to him.

  “Actually, I was flirty and smiling the whole time. I got this feeling, though, like she’s scared in general. I don’t know. Maybe I’m just reaching, hoping, you know?” Ford admitted then took a slug of beer and looked away, seeming embarrassed for sharing his feelings.

  “Well, I guess you’ll find out if your tactics worked,” Turbo told him, and then they got all quiet again. Cobra couldn’t help but feel a bit worried. He, for one, was fine with being single, or so he thought until he’d laid eyes on Essie. Those dark blue eyes of hers told so much. That body, her long blond hair, sweet smile, and feminine attributes just seemed to pull him in.

  He had his share of women over the years. Thinking about that made him feel like it was him that wasn’t good enough for the likes of her. He tried to clear his head. This damn woman wasn’t showing any signs of even liking them, never mind being attracted to them. Figures they would finally find a woman they all wanted, and she didn’t want them. He turned toward his brothers, all looking somber.

  “So, who is going to make the salad and the spinach while I get ready to cook these burgers?” he said, and they all got up ready to help with dinner as usual. Cobra glanced at the clock and wondered when Slayer would arrive.

  * * * *

  “Helen, this garden is looking incredible. I don’t know how you do it,” Essie said and bent over to look at the large tomatoes beginning to turn red.

  “It’s the soil. I’ve been using this soil for years, and it gets better and better each season,” Helen replied and started pulling out some weeds. Essie inhaled.

  “It smells so good. Fresh lettuce and tomatoes for salad, zucchini and squash, too. I would cook up a storm. Do you jar things also?” she asked.

  “I do a lot of jarring and will definitely be doing so. You be sure to take whatever you want, Essie. I have more than enough for me, and I usually wind up giving so much away.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Definitely. You’ll see in another week or so how abundant this garden will be. We’ll be throwing things out from them rotting. We won’t be able to pick fast enough.”

  “Oh no, I would cook them up and freeze them,” she told Helen and Helen smiled. “Have at it, honey,” she said and then her eyes widened, and her lips parted as she looked past Essie and behind her. Essie turned, shocked to see a man standing there, and a very large, handsome-looking one at that.

  “Slayer. Oh God,” she said and wiped her hands on her apron and went right to the man. Helen was in her fifties, but the man looked to be in his thirties. He was big, wore camouflage pants, a black T-shirt, and had tattoos along his one arm. He was definitely military. Helen and he embraced and Essie watched.

  Helen stepped back and held on to his arms.

  “Thank God that you’re okay.”

  “I told you I would be,” he said to her, his voice deep, hard, and somehow effective. Essie felt it bubble over her skin and to her core. He looked at her, and Helen chuckled.

  “How rude of me.” She pulled the guy, Slayer, by his hand toward Essie. She instinctively stepped back, and he squinted at her. Helen smiled.

  “It’s okay, Essie, this is Slayer. He was very good friends with my son, Kyle.”

  “Kyle?” Essie asked.

  “Yes, he died in combat a few years back. He and Slayer were in basic training together and Special Forces training, too.”

  Slayer looked her over. She was still wearing her work clothes. He reached his hand out for her to shake. She shook his hand and gulped. He stared at her. “Nice to meet you, Essie.” He said her name and, Jesus, it affected her like when Ford, Cobra, Max, and Turbo said her name. Why the hell did she think of them right now? She smiled and pulled her hand back.

  He just stared at her, and Helen smiled wide.

  “Essie is renting the apartment behind the gift shop.”

  “Really?” he said softly and gazed at her from head to toe again. Essie felt her cheeks warm and looked at Helen.

  “I’ll let you two visit,” Essie said and then reached for her bag and purse she had put down on the bench.

  “Why don’t you join us inside?” Helen asked her.

  She turned around and saw that Slayer—oh God, what a name—looked very serious.

  “That’s okay. I need to get changed and figure out dinner.”

  “Come on inside. Don’t be silly. Slayer just looks like he bites. He’s actually a complete gentleman and a soldier to boot. No safer place to be with him nearby,” Helen said and started walking down the path toward her small house that was next door to the gift shop. Essie looked way up at Slayer. He had dark, blondish brown hair that was a little longer in the front. His eyes were dark brown, and he motioned with his muscular arm for her to walk ahead of him. She did, and couldn’t help but to feel like the man was checking out her body. She should have declined the invitation, but Helen was so sweet. She looked over her shoulder at Slayer as she held the door open for him. His arm brushed over her shoulder, and she felt the attraction. What the hell was going on with her? She walked into the small, welcoming house and saw the pictures around the place.

  “Come on in and sit down. Slayer, if you want a beer instead of sweet tea, I do have some in the ice box,” she told him.

  “I’m good with sweet tea, Helen. Thank you,” he said but kept his eyes on Essie, then looked around the room and exhaled. It seemed to her that he felt comfortable here.

  Helen started to make the sweet tea as Essie and Slayer stared at one another.

  “Slayer just got back from a mission, or do they call it something different now that you’re not officially active duty?” she asked him.

  “Freelance work really, but still for the government,” he told her, then turned to look at the pictures on the wall. Essie was staring at one of two men in uniform looking like teenage boys. She did a double take. Was that Slayer?

  “Ahh, that’s a great one, Essie. It’s Slayer and Kyle when they graduated from boot camp,” she told her, and Essie picked it up and looked at it. Kyle was gorgeous, too, and Slayer looked happy, optimistic, a bit different then this Slayer. He seemed harder. Probably military life. She felt tightness in her chest. She knew not all soldiers lost their minds and became stalking psychos, but it made her feel scared of them in general, and there wasn’t much she could do about that.

  “God, we were babies,” he whispered from over her shoulder. He placed his hand on the picture frame, and she released it to him. She went to move but then felt his hand on her hip.

  “You were babies. Fresh out of high school, ready to take on the enemies of the world,” Helen said and brought over the sweet tea and began to pour it in the glasses.

  He set down the picture, and Essie walked to the table. She felt the loss of Slayer’s touch on her hip and it surprised her. Then he pulled a chair out for her to take as Helen smiled wide.

  * * * *

  Slayer couldn’t believe the way he was feeling right now. He had difficulty coming here to see Helen, but she had been like a mom to him, and her son was his best friend. He cou
ldn’t believe the years that had passed since Kyle had died. He hadn’t thought he would be able to go on when that happened, but he did. The fight within him, the promise to fight until there was no more fight left inside of him made him go on. Things were changing, and maybe the fight within was weakening. He had a lot to think about, and before he faced his cousins, he knew he needed to see Helen and let her know he was home.

  It made him feel better if that were even possible. He hadn’t expected to see her talking to a beautiful young woman, who sounded so sweet and sincere in her compliments about Helen’s garden. He looked at Essie right now. Her dark blue eyes sparkled as she spoke to Helen about the garden again.

  Helen smiled at him.

  “I’m so happy that you stopped by to see me and let me know that you’re okay. I worry so much,” she said and then looked so sad. He reached out to touch her hand and was shocked, because so did Helen. Essie smiled at the two of them.

  “I know you worry. I told you not to, but I guess you still do anyway,” he said to Helen.

  “Of course I do. I know you engage in dangerous activities, Slayer. I wish you would slow down, hell, quit.”

  He sighed, feeling that familiar heaviness in his heart. “There’s so much to be done.”

  “There are others to do them.”

  “Helen,” he said her name and hoped she didn’t go on one of her rampages about him giving enough of his life and when was he going to focus on himself. He didn’t know how to do that. He just knew how to be a soldier.

  Essie leaned back and took a sip of her sweet tea. He watched her lick her lips and, holy shit, his dick hardened just like that. She stared at him and then looked away.

  “So, how do you know Helen, Essie?” he asked her. He didn’t know why. He wasn’t the kind of guy to initiate conversation, and especially not with a woman. He never really had to. Women threw themselves at him, and he caught them if he needed company. That thought was all wrong here, with Essie. He knew that immediately. She was young. Too young, and, Jesus, virginal.

  Helen looked at Essie and smiled. Essie did the same. “Well, let’s see. Essie has been renting the apartment now for about four months. Right?” she asked Essie and the lovely blonde smiled softly.

  “Yes. In fact, four months this Friday, and I will drop off the money for the rent at the store after work, if that’s okay?”

  “Don’t worry, dear, I trust you,” Helen said, but Slayer didn’t. He thought maybe a little investigation was necessary, just to ensure Helen wasn’t being taken advantage of in any way.

  He leaned back and licked his lower lip.

  “You work around here?” he asked her.

  “In town.”

  “Doing what?” he asked.

  She swallowed hard and looked panicked. His gut instincts kicked in as he narrowed his eyes at her.

  “Where do you work?” he asked slowly and firmly. She just stared into his eyes.

  “An insurance firm on Beach Road.”

  “What exactly do you do at the insurance firm?” he asked, wondering if she was going to try to trick Helen into some sort of insurance scam, or maybe get her to change things around with her personal items.

  “I’m an underwriter, but it’s temporary,” she told him.

  “You’re good with numbers?” he asked her.

  “Very good, but I enjoy marketing better. I like helping companies to expose their products to new clientele. It’s what I used to do before.”

  “Where did you live before here?” he asked her, and she looked away from him and readjusted her shoulders, a telltale habit when she got uneasy or maybe lied.

  “Way, way up north.”

  “Canada?” he asked.

  “Not quite. So, what about you? Live and work around here?” she countered, obviously trying to avoid his questions. He stared at her and looked away. Now he was the one avoiding answering questions.

  “Oh, I need to check the oven.” Helen got up and walked further into the kitchen where the wall oven was. Slayer kept his eyes on Essie.

  “Are you active duty?” she asked him.

  “You can say that, doll,” he said to her and she blushed. Holy fucking shit, she was sexy and sweet.

  “Oh, damn it. The darn oven wasn’t even on. Now the chicken isn’t done. Shoot,” Helen exclaimed.

  Essie got up and walked over to the oven.

  “It looks like it started to cook. Did the oven stop working?” Essie asked and put her hand inside to feel in there.

  “It’s not even hot. It must have turned off a while ago. Let me check the gauge, turn it on again, and see what happens.” Essie closed it as Slayer got up and walked over. She was playing with the buttons when the oven came on immediately.

  “Oh, there was a timer set.”

  “Yes, for one hour and forty-five minutes,” Essie said to her and looked at Slayer.

  “I think you may have put it in wrong, or something, because the oven is heating up perfectly now.”

  “Shoot. I can’t believe I would do something so stupid.”

  “Helen, these things happen. It isn’t a big deal,” Slayer said to her joining them.

  “It’s past six o’clock. I was going to offer the both of you to stay and have supper with me. Now we won’t eat until eight,” she stated, sounding so upset.

  Essie placed her hand on her forearm.

  “That’s so sweet of you, Helen.”

  “You would stay, both of you, if I asked, right?” she asked.

  Slayer looked at Essie in her business attire—short skirt and white blouse—her tan legs on display. She was even wearing high heels, and he still towered over her. She was short.

  “I would love to stay.”

  “I’ve offered before, I know you like your privacy, Essie, but Slayer is here, and he’s like a son to me. It would be great for us to celebrate his return together,” Helen said, and Slayer was shocked. He looked at his watch. The guys expected him. He should decline, but when he looked at Essie, she widened her eyes and clenched her teeth, lipping “stay,” and nodded toward Helen. Was she threatening him, demanding he stay or else? He smirked and then raised one of his eyebrows up at her. She turned away.

  “I’ll stay. Let me just text someone real quick and let them know I have a change of plans.”

  “Oh good. Now about this chicken,” Helen stated.

  “Not a thing to worry about. We can fry it up, add some garlic, tomatoes, fresh basil from your garden, and turn it into chicken cacciatore. Do you have any pasta we can start cooking?” Essie stated, and Helen smiled.

  “I’ll grab some vegetables to go along with it, and you help yourself to whatever you need, Essie. Slayer will grab the pasta. He knows where it is,” Helen said and walked outside.

  Slayer was amazed at Essie’s enthusiasm and how quickly she went to Helen’s defense, even helping Helen as she did. It took away the bad thoughts and potential accusations he was forming in his head. He got the pasta, and Essie found a pot big enough for boiling water. She washed her hands, then filled the pot with water. She was facing the counter and looking out the side window of the kitchen to where the garden was, and Helen was picking things. He placed his hand on Essie’s hip, felt her tighten and gasp. He pressed closer and whispered into her ear.

  “You’re very sweet, Essie. I hope this isn’t some act to hurt Helen or trick her, because if I find out otherwise, I’ll come after you personally.”

  She turned slightly, a look of shock and hurt on her face.

  “Me, hurt Helen? Is something wrong with you?” she asked him, and he inhaled her shampoo, absorbed the sight of her gorgeous dark blue eyes, that narrow, feminine nose, and luscious lips. He wanted to kiss her, and it shocked the shit out of him.

  “Oh God,” she whispered, and he narrowed his eyes. She felt it, too.

  “I grabbed a bunch of zucchini and squash, maybe you could—”

  They looked at Helen, who stopped talking and then smiled so wide her
eyes lit up.

  She started to slowly walk backward toward the door. “I could go back outside if you need a few minutes.”

  Slayer felt too riled up to smirk, and when Essie moved away from him and began to chop garlic, he felt disappointed.

  “We’re good. I was just making sure that Essie knew how important you are to me. That way she keeps eyes on you when I’m not around.”

  “Oh, Slayer, you know I can take care of myself. Essie is the one who needs looking after. She’s always alone and rarely goes anywhere. Maybe you could show her around town, take her to some of the famous places young people go,” she suggested, surprising him.

  “I can take care of myself, too, Helen. I choose to be alone. But, not tonight, so how about those veggies? Maybe Slayer can help?” Essie challenged.

  He stepped closer to her and reached in front of her to the knife block, letting his arm graze her breast.

  “I know a lot about knives,” he said to her and she suddenly looked freaked out. He had been teasing, but apparently not that type of teasing.

  “Let’s get that pot boiling, and I’ll help you cut those veggies.”

  * * * *

  Two hours later and a few glasses of wine, they were laughing and talking up a storm. Essie couldn’t believe how charismatic Slayer was. He had her laughing so hard she snorted, which sent Helen into a hysterical fit. She was practically drunk and Essie looked at Slayer when Helen began to doze off in the chair.

  “I think we should call it a night,” Essie said and stood up, causing Helen to awaken.

  “Oh, oh my goodness,” Helen said and covered her mouth. “I think I had too much wine,” she added and giggled.

  “It was a wonderful night, and I’m so glad you invited me to stay,” Essie said and gave Helen a hug.

  “You are an amazing cook, Essie. You’re going to make a smart, wonderful man a very happy and lucky man, with that cooking,” Helen told her, and when she pulled back, Helen pointed at Slayer. “She’s a keeper. Be smart and don’t let this pass you up.” She turned around and gave him a hug.

  “Come by when you can, Slayer. Good night. Oh, lock up behind you, oh…and walk Essie home, please. It’s dark, and there’s no light on the pathway.”