Soldier's Choice (3 page)

“Not sure,” he said. “I’m going to work on the house for a while, and I have a few errands to run in town.” He’d just bought the rundown place next door and started fixing it up. He wanted to stay close to his family—but he needed his own space, too. Sometimes he just wasn’t fit for company.

“How’s that going?”

“Not bad.” He’d gotten a great deal on it, but the money wouldn’t last forever. After the down payment on that and paying off his mother’s bills, he’d have to start job-hunting a lot sooner than he’d expected. “So that’s what I’m doing,” he said. “How about you?”

“Oh, I’ll probably clean a while. Hattie’s coming over for lunch. Those are my grand plans.”

“At least you’ve got some.” He smirked and moved to put the stack of dishes down, but the mug slid off the plate and shattered on the floor.

Anna stood like a shot. “I’ll get it,” she said, her voice strained and fluttering. “It’s fine. You sit down and—”

“Mom.” His heart broke to see her revert to the terror of living with James Mathers. He took her arm gently and steered her back to the table. “We’re okay,” he said. “It’s only you and me here. And it’s just a cup.”

She sat down slowly and brought a hand to her mouth. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I can’t stop…I’m sorry.”

He smiled at her. “You don’t have to apologize anymore,” he said.

“All right.”

When she’d settled down, he grabbed the broom and dustpan and made short work of the shattered mug. Anna gave him a grateful smile, but then her expression turned serious. “Have you…been to see your father, since you came back?”

“No, I haven’t.” And he wouldn’t, if he could help it. Far as he was concerned, Gunnery Sergeant James Mathers could rot in the VA hospital alone. They’d admitted him while Reese was still in boot camp and decided it was best to keep him permanently, which was the best damned thing that’d ever happened to this family.

Reese wasn’t about to visit and give him the satisfaction of gloating over “his son, the Marine.”

“He’s dying, you know.”

Good riddance.
He managed not to say that out loud. “I can’t, Mom,” he said. “Not yet.”

“I understand.”

“I know you do.” He dried his hands and went over to give her a quick hug. “I’m going to get over to the house,” he said. “You know where I am if you need me. I’ll stop in later, okay?”

She smiled. “Okay. See you later.”

As he headed outside, he pushed away thoughts of his father relentlessly. The irony of it was, he’d stopped giving a damn what the man thought about his life, his choices—but he still couldn’t have what he wanted. His father had seen to that without even trying.

But hell, he could still use a friend. Maybe he’d take Luka up on that beer after all.

It had to stop hurting eventually.

* * * *

Luka finished her last appointment around four that afternoon, and decided to stop by her brothers’ job site—mostly to make sure Jonah and Gage hadn’t killed each other. It was on the way home, so she could pretend she wasn’t making a special trip.

They were building a custom house for a local family who’d just found themselves expecting twins, and suddenly needed a lot more space. The site was a nice piece of land just outside the heart of town, with a good-sized yard and a couple of great trees. They’d already finished the foundation, and got the frame and most of the walls up, but it’d be another month before it was finished.

Luka parked at the curb in front of the house-to-be and climbed out. She spotted Mark next to the trailer they’d parked on the property as a temporary office, frowning over a bunch of papers. Gage was banging away on the roof. Jonah was nowhere in sight. With Gage in a precarious position, that was probably a good thing.

“Getting an early start on your date?” she called as she approached.

Mark looked up and smiled. “Hey, Lu. What’s wrong, did somebody leave the toilet seat up at home? I swear it wasn’t me.”

“For once, I didn’t come to yell at anyone.” She leaned against the trailer and glanced at Mark’s papers—blueprints, for the ground floor. “You look like you might, though. Have those blueprints insulted you?”

He sighed. “They’re mocking me.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re not going to finish this on deadline.” The frown returned, and he rolled the papers up and stuffed them in a pouch that hung from the table. “Three guys are enough for a kitchen remodel. But this is a whole house, from the ground up.”

“I only see two of you. Where’s Jonah?”

“Inside. He’s wiring, Gage is roofing, I’m paving.” He walked to a wheelbarrow full of wet cement with a shovel stuck in it, and started pushing it across the grass. “But there’s still insulation, plumbing, drywall, siding, flooring…you get the picture.” He grabbed the shovel and stirred. “I think we’ll have to hire some help,” he said. “Know anybody who’s looking for work?”

She shook her head slowly. “I can’t think of anyone, but I’ll ask around.”

“Thanks.” Mark tipped the wheelbarrow toward the wooden frames in the ground for the front walk, and eased a mound of concrete out with the shovel. “So, did you take my suggestion?”

“What suggestion?”

“You, Al, and Reese Mathers. At the bar, with a drink.”

“Hey. I told you, we’re just friends.”

“And?”

“You jerk.” She batted his arm, but flashed a quick smile. “I might have seen him at the bakery this morning. And I might have mentioned something about buying him a beer, if he wanted to stop by The Klinker.”

Mark gave her a serious look. “You forgot something important.”

“What?”

“I don’t see any donuts for me.”

“And they were delicious, too.” She stuck her tongue out, and they both laughed. “I’m going to head home,” she said. “If you guys aren’t back when I go out, I’ll leave dinner in the oven. Oh, and remind Gage it’s his turn to cook tomorrow.”

“Great. I guess we’re having hot dogs and chips, then.”

“Or takeout.” She grinned and started back to her car. “See you later,” she said.

“You’re welcome,” Mark called after her.

Shaking her head, she climbed in and headed home, a little excited in spite of herself. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be a complete disaster after all.

Chapter 3

So much for avoiding disaster.

Reese hadn’t shown up, but that didn’t even matter right now. Luka sat at a table in The Klinker, trying to console Sydney after her fiancé had almost gotten in a fistfight with Cameron Thatcher, the guy her best friend had desperately loved in high school. The guy who’d broken Syd’s heart, went from town heartthrob to town hermit—and had just threatened to shoot Tommy Lowell in cold blood.

And Sydney had apparently drank way too much, because she’d stuck up for Cam instead of Tommy. At least now she seemed to be regretting that.

“Well,” Luka said. “I guess the whole town’s got something to talk about for the rest of the year.”

Sydney groaned and dropped her head on her arms. “Great,” she muttered. “I’m locking myself in my room until the wedding.”

Luka picked at the plate of nachos that neither of them had really touched, and glanced at the door for the millionth time. No Reese—and damn it, she was going to stop looking and focus on Syd. “What am I going to do with you, girl?” she sighed. “You defended Cam Thatcher. Your mortal enemy. I don’t know what to think now.”

“Neither do I.” Sydney drained the rest of her third or fourth drink and pushed the glass aside. “Luka…what if we’re all wrong about him?”

“Okay,” she said. “Now you’re scaring me.” Cam was gruff, rude, and hated everybody—especially Sydney. He’d made that clear in high school. But here she was, acting like she might still have feelings for him after all this time.

Tonight must’ve been resurrect-an-old-flame night. She didn’t know about Syd, but all Luka wanted to do was extinguish hers, before she got burned.

“I’m serious,” Sydney said. “Didn’t you see how everybody acted when he came in here? Like he was a disease he could catch if they got too close.”

She snorted. “That’s because he’s a big, walking asshole.”

“See what I mean? Everybody thinks that.” Sydney frowned. “You should’ve seen Jim Wyatt talking to him. And Kenny at the garage, earlier today. It was awful.”

“Syd. He threatened to shoot your fiancé.”

“That wasn’t a threat. It was more like…I don’t know. Wishful thinking, maybe. I just can’t believe he’d really shoot anyone.”

“All right, I give up. You’re crazy.” She looked idly toward the door—and her heart stopped.
Reese.
He stood near the entrance scanning the place slowly. Then his eyes met hers, and he smiled. Sort of. Just a slight upturn of his lips at one corner, but it was enough to restart her pulse in overdrive.

“Oh my God,” she half-whispered. “He’s
here.
Do I look terrible? Be honest.”

Sydney grinned. “You look great.”

“Well, I feel terrible. Or maybe awesome. I can’t tell.” Luka had casually mentioned that she might have seen Reese and said something about maybe buying him a beer, and her best friend had done her the favor of not making a big deal out of it. She loved her for that. Drawing a shaky breath, she stood and said, “Okay, I’m gonna go say hi. I’ll be back in a few minutes, all right?”

“Don’t come back.” Sydney got up too. “You hang out with Reese. I think I’ll go over and surprise Tommy.”

Luka could’ve kissed her. “Sanity returns.” She hugged her instead, and said, “Wish me luck?”

“You don’t need it.”

“Right.” She rolled her eyes and waved, and after a moment’s hesitation, she headed for Reese.

He met her halfway across the room and stopped, hands in his pockets. “Hey, Luka.”

“Hi, Reese.” Her tongue wanted to tie itself in knots, but she refused to let this descend into awkwardness again. Reese was her friend, and that needed to be all right for now. She just had to say something. Anything. “How about that beer?”

Brilliant. What a great conversation starter.

He nodded and said, “Sounds good.”

She offered a hesitant smile. “Should we sit at the bar? There’s plenty of room.”

“Let’s order, and then decide.”

“All right.”

They walked together toward the curved bar off to the side, and Luka couldn’t help noticing the way every female in the place stared at Reese. Even Lottie Banks, who had to be eighty years old, was giving him the bedroom eye from the far end of the bar. If he realized it, he didn’t pay any attention. But that probably just made them want him even more.

Luka reached the bar first and signaled the only bartender who’d stayed on after the general exodus of the almost-fight. “Hey, Matt,” she said when he came over. “Can we get two drafts?”

“Sure.” Matt glanced past her, and looked again. “Reese? Is that you?”

“Last I checked.”

He stepped up to the bar, and Matt broke out in a smile. “Hey, man. I didn’t know you were back.” They high-fived each other. “So, how was it? Did you kill anybody?”

“That’s classified.”

The bartender laughed. “Let me get those beers.”

When Matt walked away, Luka said, “I guess you haven’t gotten out much yet.”

“Not really,” Reese said. “I’ve…just been busy.”

“Oh.” She actually felt a little better, knowing she hadn’t been the only one he didn’t make an effort to see when he came back. “So, what’ve you been up to?”

Before he could answer, Matt returned and set two mugs on the counter. “Are you going to hang here a while?” he said.

Reese glanced at Luka. “Actually, I was thinking about shooting some pool,” he said. “If you’re up for it.”

“What does the winner get?”

“Free beer.”

“You’re on.” She grinned and picked up a glass.

Matt shook his head. “I hope you brought a lot of money, man.”

“Why’s that?”

“Have you seen her play? That girl is a shark.”

“You’re ruining my cover, Matt,” she said with a smile. “Usually I let the other guy rack, and then I say something like, ‘Gee, what’s this white ball for?’ Gets ’em every time. But I guess I don’t need to play the rube to beat you.”

Reese raised an eyebrow. “We’ll see.”

They headed for a corner table, and Luka fed a few quarters in to release the balls. “You rack, I’ll break,” she said.

“Are those the official rules?”

“No. The official rules are ‘ladies first’.”

“I see.” He smirked and started setting up the table.

Luka found a few halfway decent cue sticks. She handed one to Reese, and then went to work.

Four shots later, he was standing there with his mouth open.

“Matt was right,” he said. “You’re a shark. Where’d you learn to play like that?”

“I have three big brothers, and they’re all rotten punks. Where do you think I learned to play?”

He gave her a strange look. “How are they?” he said slowly. “Your brothers.”

“Pains in my ass, like always. But they’re fine.” The uncertainty in his voice had her wondering again what happened that day, when he broke up with her. She could usually tell when her brothers lied to her—but they had managed to get away with it a few times. “So, um,” she said, walking around the table to look for a decent shot. “My brothers. Did they say anything to you? You know, before you left.”

“No.” He frowned. “Were they supposed to?”

“They’d better not have,” she said under her breath. “I was just wondering…well, it doesn’t matter.” Talking any more about this would open up wounds she didn’t want to feel, so she’d keep the conversation light. “How’s your little sister?”

“Georgia? She’s good.”

Luka waited a beat, but he didn’t elaborate. She sighed and leaned over the table. “You know, it’s hard to talk with somebody who can’t manage more than five words at a time.”

“Sorry.”

“There you go again.” She smirked and missed her shot by a little, just so she could see how he played. “Okay,” she said. “Impress me.”

“Hm.” He stared at the table. She’d dropped solids from the break, so he was stripes—and he didn’t have a clear shot anywhere. “Would’ve been easier to impress you if I broke,” he said. “I’d have won by now.”