Chapter Three
Cord still felt bad about dinner the night before. He’d been so busy trying to avoid the woman yesterday that he didn’t think to tell her about his dinner plans. It had never crossed his mind that she’d cook for him. He was there to help, not cause her more work.
And yet, here she was setting a heaping plate of eggs and bacon in front of him.
“Thanks, but you really don’t have to be cooking for me,” he said, already knowing she was a good cook, having sat down to dinner with her and Drew and the rest of the guys a few times in the past. Even Vince, their resident cook, approved.
She smiled. “It’s the least I can do, since you won’t let me pay you for your help. Besides, I’m cooking for myself anyway. It’s no biggie to cook for two.”
He nodded and dug in, enjoying the quiet that settled over the table. It was so peaceful on her ranch. First thing that morning, he sat on the porch with his coffee and watched the sun rise. It’d been years since he’d experienced that kind of calm. He was already looking forward to a repeat tomorrow morning.
“So, what are your plans today?” she asked, halfway through breakfast.
He finished his orange juice and set the glass down. “Cut more weeds until I start to bake, then switch to working in the barn again. Why? Did you need something specific done?”
She shook her head. “No. Whatever you do will be fine. And don’t forget, there’s chicken salad in the fridge, so help yourself when you get hungry.”
He nodded, remorse setting in once more. “Sorry, again, about last night.”
“It’s okay.” She even smiled. “But do you have any more plans I should know about?”
“None tonight. I’ll be here,” he told her. “But not tomorrow night, so don’t include me in your dinner plans. As a matter of fact, I won’t be back until the next morning.”
Something unreadable passed through her eyes before she nodded. “Will do. Thanks for telling me.”
He contemplated skipping the weekly group therapy session held at At-Ease, but each time more and more soldiers wandered in and took part. Some even opened up when he and the other guys from his Ranger team took the floor.
Not his favorite thing to do, same as his friend Brick, but they understood their participation helped others. That was the reason he and his three buddies had opened the transition ranch in the first place.
Besides, it also got him away from being alone with Haley, and the elephant in the room—their attraction. Damn thing was gaining strength the more time they spent together.
Like now.
The temperature around them had significantly increased when she sat down across from him. Not good. In fact, it was bad. He concentrated on his food, making small talk when prompted, then left as soon as he finished eating.
Once outside, he could breathe and think. Two of his favorite things to do. Neither were his number one favorite, though. No, that was exactly what he was trying to avoid.
The key was keeping busy, and hell, there was certainly enough to keep him busy around her ranch. In fact, there was too much, but Haley didn’t need to know.
Doing his best to put the sexy woman out of his mind, he climbed on the tractor and considered the workload while cutting the far pasture. He was going to have to tap the guys to pitch in a day here and there, or bring his team of workers in for a day once their latest job was done.
Foxtrot Construction, the company he and his buddies also owned, employed veterans. And like each of his partners, he supervised a four-man crew. They’d kick ass here. It would speed up the progress and get him the hell away from temptation that much sooner.
A minute from becoming a crisp piece of bacon, Cord headed back to the barn, unable to put it off any longer. The day’s chores filled his head, and he breathed easier. It was a safe bet he wouldn’t see her until sundown.
As soon as he cut the engine outside the barn, he heard a large crash from inside followed by a slew of curses.
Haley.
With his gut knotted tight, he crossed the yard and entered on a sprint. “Haley…Jesus,” he muttered, finding her underneath a pegboard and a pile of tools. Sharp ones. Shit.
“Now you show up,” she scoffed.
He hoisted the peg board and tossed it aside. “What the hell happened?”
“Had a fight with a wall and lost.” A smirk twitched her full lips and gleamed in her whiskey gaze.
“That’s not funny.”
“Damn straight.” She frowned. “It hurts like a bitch.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “How the hell did you manage to knock this over?”
“Quite well, actually.”
Smart-ass.
He knelt beside her and leveled his gaze on her. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
“Did I?” She tipped her chin and narrowed her eyes. “Hard to tell underneath all that accusation and condemnation dripping from your tone. I’m not one of your Rangers, Warlock. That hard stare of yours won’t work on me.”
Christ. He didn’t need this shit.
She made to get up, pushing a few tools out of the way, and that’s when he noticed the blood dripping down her arm.
“Stay still,” he ordered, grasping her unharmed arm to hold her steady. “Let me have a look.”
A quick inspection deemed it deep but not stitch-worthy, thank God. He yanked off his shirt and wrapped it around her arm, ignoring her gasp as he tied it tight until he could get her in the house for some proper first aid. But he didn’t want her moving until he examined the rest of her body for injuries.
With his training kicking in, he ran his hands over her, noting a small cut on her cheek, another on the back of her hand, and a bruise on her other wrist, no doubt from covering her face.
“You okay?” he asked, staring into her dazed eyes. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”
She blinked and focused her gaze on his face, then shook her head after she opened her mouth and nothing came out.
Christ.
His insides twisted when he took in the mash of clippers, hammers, screwdrivers, and pliers scattered around them. She was lucky. So damn lucky.
After helping her to her feet, he bent to scoop her in his arms.
“W-what are you doing?” She wiggled as he carried her across the yard, trying his damndest not to notice the soft curves brushing his chest.
“Taking you inside to fix your arm. Stay still.” Awareness already spread through his body, waking up parts that had no business enjoying the feel of his dead friend’s widow cradled against him.
Haley grunted. “I can walk.”
“Good to know,” he replied, but continued to hold her as he stepped onto the porch. “Get the door.”
With a loud sigh, she reached out and twisted the knob. “Okay, you can put me down now.”
“Where’s your first-aid kit?” he asked, ignoring her protests.
She closed her mouth and stared at him, her eyes twin pools of pissed-off brown. God, she was gorgeous. And damn, he did not need to have his arms full of her hot curves.
He muttered an oath. “You can keep quiet all you want, but I’m just going to stand here and hold you until you tell me.”
Even if it killed him.
“Fine,” she grumbled. “It’s in the bathroom under the sink.”
With a nod, he headed in that direction, happy to have a destination. Once inside, he set her gently on the counter, then bent to retrieve the kit.
Images of the op that went horribly wrong, and the fallout that followed, flashed through Cord’s mind. His inability to save his teammate and the innocent little girl from the local village had haunted him ever since. That day haunted all of them.
He’d only cracked open a first-aid kit one time since.
“You okay?” she asked quietly. “You’ve gone awfully still.”
Silently cursing his weakness and the fact she’d spotted it, he grabbed the kit and straightened. “I’m good.” And he meant it. There was no way in hell he wouldn’t help Haley. She was hurt. So even if he hadn’t popped his cherry treating Brick’s injuries this past spring, Cord would still be standing in front of her ready to come to her aid.
It was Haley. That changed everything. She was the exception. The exception to every rule.
That realization scared the hell out of him.
…
Haley watched Cord gently unwrap his shirt and peer at her wound. Never in a million years would she ever forget the sight of him yanking the shirt over his head one-handed to use it for a tourniquet on her cut.
The man literally gave her the shirt off his back.
Drew would’ve used her shirt. She gave herself a mental shake. He had nothing to do with this. He was in her past.
Cord was here. He was the one taking care of her.
Her stomach fluttered. No one had ever done anything like that for her. She vaguely remembered gasping, but it had nothing to do with her wound and everything to do with the sight of Cord’s broad chest and tightly muscled abs and biceps. Then he’d picked her up and held her against them.
The urge to melt into him had been so strong she’d needed to get him to put her down. Purgatory and ecstasy yanked her in opposite directions. Even now, her tongue remained swollen and her gaze kept straying over his lean tanned form. He was gorgeous.
“Doesn’t need stitching. But this is going to sting,” he warned, disinfecting the cut, and when she muttered a curse, he leaned close and blew on the wound.
Awareness spread through her body in a wave of tingling heat, and her heart cracked open at his thoughtful gesture. It was as shocking as it was sensuous. The big bad Ranger with the hot, hard body had a soft side she hadn’t expected. Haley curled her fingers around the counter to keep from reaching for him.
You’re just his patient, it’ll be over soon, she chanted in her head each time he disinfected and treated a cut. Her gaze remained on his fingers, watching as he peeled back the plastic packaging on the sterilized bandages and covered the wound on her arm, and then the one on her hand.
“You were the field medic, right?” she asked, noting he stilled for a brief second.
“Yes.”
He didn’t elaborate so she didn’t push. Somewhere in the recesses of her mind she remembered he’d been with Drew when he’d died. Cord had passed on a message to her during that nightmare of a time. She’d been saddened by her husband’s death, but not devastated. No. That had happened a few months earlier when she found out Drew had cheated on her. More than once.
When Cord finished with the cut on her hand, he lifted the other one, rotating it gently to probe the swollen area.
She cleared her throat. “It’s okay. It’s not broken. Just bruised.”
He nodded, and while he concentrated on his task of expertly wrapping it with an Ace bandage, she studied his face. It was tense and edgy and gorgeous. She’d never been this close to him before. His jaw was strong, with the barest impression of a divot in the center, and heaven help her, she had the strongest urge to lean in and lick it.
A delicious shiver raced down her body and increased at the thought of brushing against his days’ worth of scruff. Mmm…she could only imagine how incredible that rough jaw would feel scraping against her skin. Good Lord, she was pathetic.
And sexually freaking frustrated.
It explained her inability to control her thoughts and reactions around Cord. But what pent-up woman wouldn’t react this way toward a deliciously ripped, half-naked man standing between her legs?
Doing her best to quell her unwelcomed, out-of-control libido, she continued to take advantage of her close proximity to the enigma. There was a tiny scar along one side of his jaw, and he had dimples in his cheeks whenever he decided to smile, which wasn’t nearly enough.
“Do you miss active duty, Cord?”
“Not really.” He shrugged. “I like what I’m doing now.”
He finished with her wrist, then turned his attention to her face. Her heart rocked in her chest, then hammered in her ears as his fingers lightly brushed her cheek.
She clenched her jaw to keep from whispering his name. Lordy, she was acting like a virgin. Cripes. It wasn’t like she’d never been touched before. Hell, she’d been married. And until she’d discovered her husband’s infidelity, they’d had a very healthy sex life. Or so she’d thought.
But Drew’s touch had never prompted the type of reactions Cord’s induced.
They were strong and special and unexpected. Much like the man.
While he dabbed disinfectant on her cheek, she stared at his broad shoulder, trying desperately to hold back a wince from the sting of antiseptic, and to avoid his gaze. That’s when she noticed it. A light peppering of freckles. She transferred her gaze to the other side and her insides fluttered. Both shoulders sported the sexy flecks, and once again, she found herself swamped with the urge to lean in and lick the guy.
In an attempt to keep her cool, she tightened her grip on the counter and fought the urges rushing through her.
“You okay?” he asked.
No. No she wasn’t. She was far from okay. “Yes,” she replied instead, her voice barely above a whisper.
Then he blew on her cheek, and the warm air caressing her sensitized skin was too much. Just too freaking much for her poor lustful body to endure. A strangled whimper sounded in her throat.
Cord stilled for a brief second, then trailed his finger down her face to hook under her chin, urging her to look at him. “Haley,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, sending goose bumps over her skin.
With butterflies swarming low in her belly, she met his gaze and noted several hues of green in his beautiful eyes. That was it. Everything outside of her rapidly beating heart and the man controlling her pulse disappeared, leaving them in a cocoon of heated need.
Then he let out a low growl and brought his mouth down on hers.