“You know I don’t let things go,” he reminded her.
“I know. And for the record, it’s annoying.”
“Noted.”
Deep brown eyes lifted, then narrowed. Jangles tried but failed to keep the smile from forming.
“That’s annoying, too.”
“I’ll scratch it on the list,” he mumbled and her lips pressed together. “You know the death glare only works when you don’t look cute doing it.”
“I don’t look cute,” she huffed. “Stop annoying me so I can look at the menu.”
Before Jangles could call her out, the waitress greeted them with, “’Bout time I see your face.”
“Hey, Suzie. How ya been?”
“Better now that I got some eye candy in my section. Boring around here, when you boys go out.” Suzie’s gaze slid to Hope and the older woman slowly smiled. “Hey there, sugar, what’s your name?”
“Hope.”
Then without warning, Suzie’s head tipped to the side and she busted out laughing.
“That’s perfect,” Suzie shouted. “Per…fect.”
“Wanna let us in on why you’re laughing?” Jangles requested.
“Sure thing.” Suzie looked between the two of them, her eyes dancing with mirth. Jangles had always liked the older woman. She was friendly, fast, and efficient. Quick to smile, stop for a gab, but never stayed too long. “Beau and Hope.”
“Not tracking why that’s worth a laugh.”
“No, you wouldn’t. I don’t suspect a man like you would watch daytime TV.” Suzie waved her hand and went on. “Anyway, I do watch daytime TV. Used to have to set my VHS to tape my shows. Pain in the backside. But now I got that satellite TV, my grandson came over and set it up. Three TVs. I don’t know why I need three TVs when it’s just me in the house. But Lenny insisted. That’s my grandson. He’s a good boy, always coming over to check on me. So now I got this DVR thingy, it records my shows for me. Never miss a’ one of them while I’m working. And now—”
“Suzie, glad your grandson visits and he’s set you up, but what does that have to do with Beau and Hope?”
“I was getting to that,” she snapped. “He cut you off like that, sugar?”
“All the time,” Hope muttered, and gave Jangles a sassy lift of her brow.
“That’s rude, Beau,” Suzie chastised, and with a resigned sigh, Jangles settled back into the booth. “You shouldn’t cut off a lady while she’s talkin’. It’s important to listen, a woman will bare her soul if you just sit quietly and let her speak.”
If only that were true.
Hope had settled in, she’d rested her elbows on the table and was staring up at Suzie like she was Master Yoda and if she waited long enough, the old woman would tell her the secrets of the universe.
“So anyway, Beau and Hope is my all-time favorite couple. Their love story is one for the ages. Up and down they went through the years. Eighties, nineties, and into the two-thousands. Sometimes I wanted to smack that Beauregard Brady—he, too, didn’t always listen to his Hope. But they made it. And their wedding, oh sweet Jesus, it was beautiful. But someone shoulda told that wardrobe person that the headpiece they made her wear was too much. The dress, beautiful, that veil, ug-ly. Still, I cried my eyes out when they said the vows. So, Beau and Hope—perfect. You’re meant to be.”
Jangles sat back, thinking that listening to Suzie prattle on about VHS tapes, her grandson, and her scolding him, was worth it. He’d gladly listen to her drone on another five minutes if it meant Hope kept looking at him with a smile on her pretty face and humor dancing in her eyes.
Oh, yeah, he fucking loved the soft, open way she gazed at him. He vowed right then to make her look at him like that more often.
“So, what’ll be today?” Suzie asked, and the spell was broken.
Hope quickly gave her order, Jangles followed, and Suzie strolled away without writing a single thing down, but Jangles knew their order would be correct.
“She always that friendly?”
“Yep,” Jangles returned. “Since the first time we all came in. She came right over, introduced herself, declared we were to only sit in her section when we came in. Then she launched straight in, telling us about her family. That grandson Lenny is her daughter’s boy. She has two sons, neither live in Texas, which means the seven grandchildren they’ve given her don’t, either. She’s only got Lenny and Sunshine close. Her daughter passed away from cancer—she was young and the kids were only teenagers—and as she tells it, Lenny and Sunshine’s father is as useless as tits on a bull so they spent a lot of time at her house when they were growing up.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, Jangles wanted to kick his own ass as he watched the shutters slam down and dim the brightness in Hope’s eyes.
Fuck.
“Babe?”
“Yeah?”
“How’d you meet BF?”
“You still making a list?”
“What?”
“A list of all the things you do that annoy me,” she clarified and continued. “If you are, put that at the top.”
Jangles’ mouth curved up into a smile. He watched her gaze involuntarily drop to his lips and he busted out laughing.
Hope sat across from Beau and watched in rapt fascination as he laughed. It was not the first time she’d heard it—he laughed a lot around her—but it was the first time she’d allowed herself to soak it in. It sucked because it was truly annoying when he pushed her to talk about things she didn’t want to talk about, but Beau was seriously hot when he laughed.
The sound filled her ears and wrapped around her like a cozy blanket. Open, real, honest. He didn’t hold back, not from her. And when she thought about it, he never had. All the way back to the very beginning, he’d given her everything he could. They didn’t talk about his job, not outright, though he never hid what he did. Hope had lived in Killeen long enough to know he was special forces. Normal calvary brigades didn’t deploy as frequently, they also didn’t leave in the middle of the night without warning. So, he’d never said the words, but he didn’t insult her by making up lies.
With that in mind, she made a decision. Actually, she made a few, but she wasn’t sure she could follow through with the others. But at least she could return the favor and be honest with him.
“When I moved here from Austin, I needed a job. One afternoon, I was having a beer at the Ugly Mug and going over the want ads and I overheard BF bitchin’ his dishwasher had called in sick. I offered to work the shift. After BF was done bustin’ a gut, he asked me if I was running from the law or a man. I told him I was just running from life and I’d cause him no trouble. He let me work the shift, paid me cash at the end of the night. I came back around a few days later asking if he had any other work and he let me barback. Then he asked me if I knew how to turn a wrench. I told him no, he said he’d teach me, and he did. The rest, as they say, is history.”
Beau looked shocked Hope had answered. Before he could recover, Suzie was back with their drinks so she hurried and changed the subject.
“Did you always want to be in the Army?”
“Yeah. My grandad and dad both served. Never crossed my mind to do anything else. And not because they put pressure on me, I just knew I wanted to be like them. Though when I was five playing with GI Joes, I didn’t have the first clue what ‘being like them’ meant.”
“Bet they’re proud.”
“They were,” he returned, and sadness washed over his features. “Dad died a few years ago, heart attack. Grandad’s been gone longer. Old age got him.”
“I’m sorry, Beau.”
“Thanks. Grandad was ninety-two. He lived a long full life. He went to bed one night and never woke up. Sucked losing Dad. He was too young. Healthy, too, but he had an undetectable heart condition—that is, undetectable until it was too late. After he passed, my mom moved to Wyoming to live with my older sister. She’d divorced and has four kids, so it’s a win-win for both of them. Mom ca
n spoil her grandkids and isn’t alone and my sister has her mom close and a built-in babysitter.”
“Are you close with them?”
“My turn. Why do you live in BF’s RV?”
Hope took a long pull of Diet Coke and fiddled with the straw, trying to find a way to explain to Beau why she lived in an RV that wouldn’t make her sound like such a loser. Coming up empty, she figured there was no way to sugarcoat her reason.
“When I moved up here, I didn’t have very much money. I couldn’t afford to stay in a hotel and eat. And I certainly didn’t have enough to rent an apartment. So I was sleeping in my car. One night, BF caught me. On a good day, the man can be a little grumpy and scary. The night he found me, he lost his mind. He didn’t give me an option, he just told me to follow him, so I followed. We drove to his place, he pulled in front of the RV, rolled down his window, pointed at it, and told me my ass better be sleeping in it every night. So that’s where I sleep.” Hope shrugged, trying for nonchalance when really BF’s kindness meant the world to her.
“Where’d you live in Austin?”
“Nope. My turn.” He nodded in acceptance and waited for Hope to come up with her next question. “Do you enjoy your job?”
Beau leaned back, and for a second, she didn’t think he’d answer. She was skirting a line they didn’t cross and she knew it. But it wasn’t like she asked for top-secret information or anything. So she figured she hadn’t asked too much.
“Enjoy isn’t a word I would use. I believe in what I do. The missions we go on are important, they make American citizens safe.”
He paused and she didn’t miss the turmoil swirling. His normally clear, blue eyes were stormy, and his features hardened. She’d seen a lot of Beau’s expressions, but even when they argued, she’d never seen this rough edge.
“I do not enjoy taking lives. Yet, with every press of my trigger, every swing of my fist or slice of my blade, the intention is there. I aim to kill and I do so with a clear conscience. I know you know what I do. But there’s a difference between knowing and knowing. Every time I leave you in my bed, I do so with the sole intent to complete my mission. And every time I come back to you, I do so with new stains on my hands. Those stains don’t leak into my soul, they don’t keep me up at night, they don’t weigh heavy on me. And they don’t because every time I take aim, I know that I’m saving my life, my brothers, and doing what’s best for my country. But even if it was simply so I could live, I’d still take that shot.”
When Beau was done, Hope felt her lungs burn. His gaze was still fixed on hers, pinning her in place, making his point. There was no missing he was talking about her, what she’d done. But she hadn’t taken Went’s life to save her own, not really. Because had she not been so overwhelmed with rage, wanting him to die for what he’d done to her parents, she would’ve let him kill her.
So many nights she’d cried herself to sleep wishing he had.
“Here you go, sugar plums, enjoy your lunch.”
Suzie set down their plates, completely oblivious to the thick, ominous cloud of pain looming over Hope. The heavy weight of regret that she no longer wanted, yet held on to because it was all she knew, all she allowed herself to have. Never imagining there was anything else out there for her.
She owed it to her parents to never forget what a horrible person she was. But Beau made it hard to cling to the notion that all she deserved was misery.
Chapter 10
Jangles was staring down at the frying pan, watching the Teflon flake as he scrubbed the remnants of the scrambled eggs off the bottom. He was thinking he really needed to buy a decent set of pans when he heard Hope coming down the hall.
It’d been a week since their lunch at Twinny’s. A lunch where Hope had shared she’d once lived in her goddamn car. One could say that that afternoon had lit a fire under Jangles’ ass. He’d planned on going slow, giving Hope time to adjust to him moving their relationship from how it started to where he wanted them to be. But the more he learned, the more impatient he became.
Hope had been living in limbo for twelve years.
No, she’d been living in hell for twelve years, punishing herself for something she had no business punishing herself over.
So, Jangles was impatient to show her she deserved happiness. He also wanted her out of that goddamn RV. But that would take time and finesse. So, he’d backed off just enough to give her room to breathe, but not enough to let her retreat. That meant no more heavy conversations, but she had spent every night in his bed, coming to him after her shifts at the Ugly Mug.
Which meant something had changed. It was small, Jangles couldn’t put his finger on it, but the mere fact Hope had come to him every night when he asked told him something had shifted. Hope didn’t do anything she didn’t want to do. If she didn’t want to be in his bed, she wouldn’t have shown. But she had, every night.
He also hadn’t been back to the bar, even though Woof and Zip had invited him to hang since their women were out of town. Nori, Woof’s woman, was on an overseas assignment with the foreign service where she worked as a negotiator. Jangles had watched the woman work, she was damn good at her job, cool under pressure, and smart. Zip’s woman, Destiny, was a flight attendant and had picked up the Seattle to Dallas haul, meaning she wouldn’t be back in Killeen for at least a week.
He had no idea how Zip and Woof went long stretches at home without seeing their women, but he had to admit, they made it work. He knew his teammates were in love, committed, and would wait until the end of time for their women to return. And not just Zip and Woof. Merlin and Duff had found it, too.
Jangles twisted from the sink when he heard Hope approach. She made her way to him and faceplanted on his chest. His arms wrapped around her and she mumbled something that sounded like ‘good morning’.
“Morning, baby.”
“Too early.”
“Babe, it’s almost noon. I’ve already been to post and PT’d.”
“Well, aren’t you special.” Hope pressed closer and Jangles chuckled.
“I made you breakfast.”
Hope lifted her head off his chest, tipped her face to meet his eyes, and scrunched her nose.
“I hope you know, I love it when you make me breakfast. But that pan is a health hazard. You need new pans.”
“Noticed that?”
“Can’t miss it with all the black flakes that are not pepper mixed in.”
“You have today off?”
“Yes, thank God.”
“We’ll go to the store and get new ones.”
“Beau.” She started to pull away but his arms tightened. She was itching to retreat, he could hear it in her voice.
Hell to the no.
“Babe. You get I’m a man. I don’t have the first clue about buying pots and pans. With safety in mind so in the future I won't poison you with flaky Teflon, help me out, would ya?”
“You’re asking the wrong woman for help. I don’t even own a frying pan.”
That ugly ball of anger grew at the reminder she lived in an RV. She didn’t own a frying pan, another slap in his face.
A loud knock at his door saved him from having to respond. His gaze moved to the front windows with a clear view of the street. He saw Merlin’s black truck at the curb.
“Shit,” he groaned.
“What?”
“Merlin’s here.”
“Um. Want me to slip out the back door?”
Jangles’ eyes sliced back to her and narrowed.
“Why the fuck would I want you to slip out the back?” he asked irately.
“I’m standing in your kitchen in your T-shirt,” was her asinine answer.
“So?”
“Merlin’s not stupid, Beau, he’ll know why I’m here.”
“And?”
“Beau,” she hissed. “I don’t want them thinking I’m some easy—”
“Stop.”
“Stop what? Surely you can understand I don’t want them talking a
bout me. I don’t want rumors—”
“First, there’s not a single man on my team that would talk about you behind your back. Second, there’s no way in fuck my woman’s slinkin’ out the back door. And third, I don’t know why the hell you think I’d let you.”
Jangles stepped away from Hope and took her in. She was wearing his tee but she’d put on a pair of those tight leggings that women wore, so she was semi-presentable if you ignored her wild mane of long brown hair. She looked beautiful, thoroughly fucked from the night before, and Merlin wouldn’t miss it—no man would.
Merlin would take one look at Hope in Jangles’ tee, in his kitchen, looking sleepy, and he’d know.
Jangles didn’t care about that.
He skirted Hope and made his way to the door, thinking that it was good Merlin had shown up. Jangles had been trying to find the right time to tell his team he’d been seeing Hope. The only reason he hadn’t done it already was that he didn’t want to explain why he’d kept her a secret for months. Something he wished he hadn’t done.
“Hey,” Jangles greeted when he opened the door.
Merlin smiled, something he did a lot since meeting Gwen. “Hey. We were driving by, saw your truck in the drive, and thought we’d stop and see if you wanted to hit the range with us.”
Good news.
When Jangles had seen Merlin’s truck, he’d thought he was swinging by to tell him they were leaving on a mission. This was better, way better, the perfect way to get Hope to go out with him in a social situation.
Jangles stepped to the side in invitation.
“Hi, Gwen.”
“Hey, Jangles,” she happily returned and preceded Merlin.
Jangles didn’t have time to warn them he had company before Gwen abruptly stopped.
“Oh. Hey, Hope,” Gwen chirped, her eyes darting from Hope to Jangles, then to Merlin, and back to Hope. “We…um…should’ve called first.”
“Hi, Gwen.”
Hope stood frozen in his dining room. Everything about this situation hit him as wrong. His woman should never be uncomfortable in his home. Hope’s eyes got big as he approached, then they turned pleading when she caught on to his play.
Hope's Delta (Special Forces: Operation Alpha) (Delta Team Three Book 5) Page 5
