Chapter 6

Julie was two minutes from home, literally two minutes, when her car sputtered, spat, and gave a little lurch. She steered to the side of the road just before it died completely. And she’d thought her night couldn’t get any worse.

Before she could start devising a plan to get herself and her car home, two headlights slowed behind her and pulled to the side of the road. Apparently the night could get worse, she thought, groaning out loud as she watched Lawson step out and approach her car. He was the very last person she wanted to talk to right now. Anyone but him.

He tapped on her window. Just like that morning at the Veterans’ Center, when he’d done the same in the pouring rain. She hesitated, but she had no choice.

She opened her car door and stared at him. “The window doesn’t roll down because my car is not currently working.” There was a you-idiot tone in her voice that she couldn’t help. He deserved it. He’d just ruined the class that she’d been so excited about for the past week. Just like Daren and Mr. Banks, Lawson had acted like yoga was foolish. He hadn’t put her down with his words, but he’d definitely put her down with his actions tonight.

“Julie.” His eyes softened. “About tonight.”

She held up her hand. “I’m not talking about tonight. I just need a ride home. I’ll call someone to help me tow my car tomorrow.” She got out and pushed past him, walking to his truck without him offering her a ride this time. He owed her this much. Slamming the passenger door, she buckled herself up, and took a deep breath. It didn’t calm her.

Lawson stepped inside the truck, also. Glancing in her direction, she saw him nod from the corner of her eye. Then he cranked the engine. The ride to her house was silent until he pulled into her driveway. “I was an idiot, and I’m sorry,” he finally said.

“You don’t have to say that.” She crossed her arms in front of her defensively.

“The hell I don’t. I hurt your feelings. I’m sorry about that.”

He wasn’t sorry for criticizing her passion, though. Just for hurting her feelings. How many times had Daren done the same, hurt her feelings and then apologized? How many times had she stupidly accepted his apology? Too many.

She pulled the door’s handle and stepped out. “Thanks.” She slammed it and headed for her front door, aware that a towering figure was following. Couldn’t he get a clue?

He grabbed her elbow and pulled her to look at him just before she reached the porch steps.

“Don’t touch me!” she snapped, jerking away. Her heart was suddenly hammering and every hair on her body was at attention.

Lawson’s hands flew up. His eyes grew even softer, which made her emotion suddenly raw. She’d overreacted. One unexpected touch and she’d acted like he was about to hit her.

Damn it.

“What do you want?” she asked, hating the little fault line in her voice. “You said you were sorry. Great. Anything else?” To cover the pain, she feigned more anger.

He kept his gaze steady on her. “I’m not like him, Julie.”

She stiffened. “Like who?”

“Whoever made you react like that just now.”

She tried to maintain her composure. “I reacted like that because you grabbed me.”

“Barely,” he said softly.

“Your apology is accepted. Thank you for the ride, Lawson.” She looked down at her feet, not trusting her eyes not to show him everything. He’d already seen too much and had read her like a damn book.

“Save a horse,” he said, humor lacing his voice as he attempted to lighten the mood.

She was grateful for that.

Tipping his hat, he said, “I’ll see you in class on Wednesday.” Then he turned and walked away.

On an inhale, she hurried inside and closed the door, leaning against it. Her body was trembling from the interaction she’d just had. She would’ve preferred to still be angry at Lawson. Anger served her better than thinking maybe he was a decent guy. Anger was better, too, than letting him see her weakness. He somehow knew she had a past.

A past she never wanted to repeat.

Right. Lawson’s true colors had shown through at the Veterans’ Center tonight, and she’d be wise to remember that.

Lawson glanced at the car key he’d managed to swipe from Julie’s keyring as she’d ignored him all the way here. He headed back to her car and got to work. It was the least he could do, seeing that he’d ruined her class tonight. He pulled a toolbox out of the back storage compartment of his F-350 and grabbed a spotlight so he could see while he worked.

He’d been a dick tonight. Worse than that. The hurt in Julie’s eyes had been clear. Along with something else that left him bothered. He’d recognized pain in her eyes, just before he’d grabbed her arm and brought fear there, too. Despite his job, which required that he kick ass for the military from time to time, he wasn’t a violent guy. Someone had hurt Julie, though, and he hated it.

Dipping to look under her hood, he started investigating why her car kept shutting off. He’d always been good with his hands and with cars. He guessed he had that as a fallback plan if he didn’t steel-up and get back in the cockpit. He didn’t love mechanics, though. Not like he loved flying. He needed to get back in a helicopter. He would—just as soon as his commander was satisfied that he could handle it.

Lawson studied the engine. It only took a moment to locate the culprit. The connections with the car’s battery were grimy. He pulled off his shirt and used it to wipe the dirt away. Then he retrieved his battery cables from his truck and gave the Honda a jump start. It revved to life immediately. Looked like she needed a new battery if she expected to get anywhere safely. He’d tow her car back to her house, then head to the local Walmart’s automotive department to get one. He hooked the front end of her car to his rear and slowly towed it to her driveway. The lights inside her house were off. Good to see she hadn’t lost any sleep over his jackass ways. Fixing her car was his idea of a peace offering. Hopefully she’d accept it, and the apology he would give the next time he saw her pretty face.

He jumped back in his truck and went to get the battery. After installing it, he headed home. It was after ten, but he wasn’t a bit tired. Instead, he fired up his computer and YouTubed Huey helicopters. Even watching them on the little screen made his blood pressure spike. The dulled roar of the engine brought back memories of fire and death. He forced himself to watch anyway. This was his idea of therapy. Not talking or yoga. Even though Dr. Pierce’s advice had helped him with his interaction with BJ earlier. And seeing Julie did help distract him. He watched the videos until he started to fall asleep, then headed to his bedroom.

The next morning Lawson walked next door to his sister’s house and entered without knocking. He made the coffee and sat down with a cup, waiting for the aroma to rouse Beth from her bed.

“Good morning, sunshine,” he said as she shuffled into the kitchen a few minutes later. Her hair was poking out around her sleep-creased face. She grunted a hello. It usually took some coffee before she made any sense. Lawson stood, poured her a cup, and waited. “So,” he said after she’d drained the first cup. “Any leads on a sitter for Sabrina?”

Her gaze flicked up and, for a moment, she looked so much like his mother that he got a little homesick. “No. I’ve interviewed three people. One was barely sixteen. You and I both know what a handful my daughter can be. The second one smoked and Sabrina is prone to respiratory stuff. Not a good fit. Then yesterday afternoon I interviewed a lady that seemed perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

“What happened?” Lawson asked, leaning back in his chair.

“Sabrina happened. She told the lady to, and I quote, ‘Buzz off.’ ” Beth shook her head, trying not to laugh. “Then she cried for an hour asking where her daddy was.” Beth’s laugh was short-lived. Now her brows were tilted in a deep V.

Lawson’s heart squeezed.

“I hate lying to her, but you can’t tell a little girl that her father just left. That I don’t know when or if he’ll ever come back.”

Lawson sipped his coffee. If the sorry-ass kid who’d knocked his sister up and left her to raise a daughter alone ever did come back, he’d have to answer to him. “You should’ve hired the lady who was perfect. Sabrina will adjust.”

“Will she?” Beth frowned as she looked at him.

“Yes. She’s strong-willed just like her mother,” he said pointedly. “But she’s a kid. She doesn’t get to run the show, and riding horses is important to you. You need something of your own.” He’d be damned if he was going to watch Beth give up her dreams unnecessarily. Ever since his father abandoned their family during Lawson’s senior year of high school, he’d stepped into the authority role of the family. He felt responsible for his mother, his sister, and now his niece. “You need to train for the show and Jax needs to stay conditioned. So we need a babysitter for Sabrina.”

“Always looking out for me. You’re a good brother, you know that?” Beth smiled behind her mug of coffee.

“Yeah, I know.”

“You’re going to make some girl very lucky one day,” she added.

Julie’s face crossed his mind for some reason. That wasn’t the girl he’d make lucky. She couldn’t stand the sight of him right now, and he didn’t blame her. He set his cup down and stood.

“Going to work?” Beth asked, still watching him.

“Yep.”

“Flying again?”

“Not yet,” he said. Last she heard he hadn’t been cleared to fly. He’d had to get checked out by a doctor and cleared after his injuries. Pilots couldn’t have bum arms or cracked ribs. That’d gotten him this far. Now, only by the grace of God and his commanding officer, he had one month to get his mental shit together.

“What’s wrong?” Beth’s brows lowered. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

Before he could answer, a three-foot ball of energy launched herself into his arms.

“Uncle Lawson!”

Saved by his niece. “Hey, blossom. How’d you sleep?”

“Good.” She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and blinked up at him. Like her mother, her hair was making a crown of tangles around her face.

“Great. Do me a favor today?” he asked.

“Okay.”

“Be good to your mom. And if she interviews any more people, be nice. No more ordering people to buzz off.”

Sabrina started giggling. Giggles evolved into a fit of laughter as he tickled her belly. Then he kissed her temple.

“Gotta go.” He headed out the door and took a breath. His family needed him here in Seaside. If he couldn’t fly, he’d be re-stationed to Camp Neally. Commander Oakes had all but guaranteed that. And there was no way in hell Lawson was going to let that happen.

Julie groaned as the sun slanted in through her window. A new day, which meant more job hunting. Getting up, she padded down the hall to make herself a smoothie and do her mini morning yoga routine. After that she showered, dressed, and opened her laptop to search the local job sites.

Maybe.

No, thanks.

She hummed on that idea for a moment. She wasn’t specifically trained in massage therapy, but she did know the muscle groups and could give a decent massage. Plus the pay listed was more than most of the other jobs being advertised. The bills on the counter’s corner caught her eye. Right. She was never depending on someone else again, she told herself.

She kept reading.

She pulled her cellphone out and dialed the number listed. A few minutes later she had a job. The man on the phone had only asked her a few questions and then asked her to come by for his first session.

He’d sounded elderly and nice. Nonthreatening.

Grabbing her purse and keys, she prepared to trek down the road to retrieve her car, praying that it would start for her. She froze as she opened the front door. Her old Honda Civic was somehow in her driveway. Had she dreamt breaking down on the road and needing a ride from Lawson? Had she dreamt him following her out of his truck and grabbing her elbow?

I’m not like him, Julie.

She swallowed at the memory, wishing she wasn’t so see-through. Last night had definitely happened. She could still feel Lawson’s hand on her skin, the electricity snapping from his gaze. He must have towed her car here himself. She looked around as she stepped off the porch and headed to her car, as if Lawson might be outside, waiting for her. He wasn’t, which both relieved and disappointed her. He was a jerk, she reminded herself. A gorgeous jerk who’d given her a lift last night and towed her car back to her house. She opened her car and got in, preparing to put her key in the ignition when she realized it was already there. Glancing down at her keyring, she shook her head. How had he gotten her key? He must’ve done that while she’d ignored him on the way home last night.

Guilt poked at her conscience. She cranked the engine on a prayer and exhaled as it revved to life. The usual clicking noise was gone. The CHECK ENGINE light that had been displaying on her dash for months was off, too. The one she was waiting to get checked out until she had a long-term, paying job. Lawson must have fixed it. Not the actions of a certified jerk.

Just dandy. This meant she was going to have to be nice to him the next time she saw him. She preferred guarding her heart with irritation, anger, and every other negative emotion she could manage.

She groaned and headed toward Seaside’s Assisted Living Homes. Fifteen minutes later she pulled in and parked. On the phone Mr. Adams had told her he was eighty-two. She wouldn’t normally feel comfortable going into someone’s home, but an old man with back pain was harmless. She located apartment 14C and knocked.

It only took a minute for Mr. Adams to answer the door.

“Hey, there, sweetheart,” he said, smiling at her in the doorway. “Come in. Come in.”

Julie stepped inside, closing the door behind her. The small living quarters smelled stale, and also like buttered popcorn, which made her stomach turn a little. Following behind him she noticed that Mr. Adams got around the small apartment just fine for his age. And for someone who claimed to be in so much pain.

“I set up a place for you to work your magic over here in my bedroom, sweetheart.”

“Okay.” He was old, she reminded himself. Fifty years her senior. There was no reason she couldn’t go into his bedroom. She followed him and looked around. There wasn’t much. Just a bed, a small dresser, and several pictures of an older woman on the wall.

“That’s Dorothy. My late wife.” Mr. Adams’s eyes slanted in sadness.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Julie said, setting her bag down.

“No one lives forever, honey.” Mr. Adams sat on the bed, then pulled his legs up in front of him.

Nodding, Julie turned around to start digging in her bag. She’d brought some massage oils and plastic massagers she’d had at home. When she turned back around, Mr. Adams had taken off his shirt. She froze for a moment, taking in his rolled and wrinkled midsection, so hairy it looked like he was wearing a large toupee on his chest.

“Um.” She’d imagined that he’d at least wear a tank top. This was fine, though. She could work better if his shirt was off. Forcing a smile, she met his gaze. “Okay. Ready to get started?” she asked enthusiastically.

Sweet old Mr. Adams shook his head. “Not yet, darling. It’s your turn.”

Either he had something in his left eye or he was winking at her.

“My turn?” she asked, lowering her brows.

“I took my shirt off. Now let’s see what you have under that top of yours.”

Julie’s mouth fell open. She took a small step backward, nearly tripping over her bag. No way she’d heard that correctly. “I’m sorry?”

“You heard me right. Take it off, baby doll. I’ll double your pay.” He winked again.

Ew!

“I came here to help with your back pain.”

“And believe me, you will.” His dentured smile was no longer sweet. Sweet Mr. Adams was really dirty Mr. Adams.

Julie grabbed her bag without saying anything else and sprinted for the door. She’d rather dress up like a chicken at the Chow Bucket. Slamming the door behind her, she went to her car and got in. With a glance in her rearview, she saw that Mr. Adams hadn’t followed. That was good. Because, elderly or not, she had a good mind to run him over right about now.

She shuddered and pressed the gas. Job searching was over for the morning. She’d intended to grab something to eat once she left here, but her appetite was now gone, maybe forever. Instead, she drove home to take a shower and scrub the image of Mr. Adams out of her brain.