“Mornin’, Dee,” Brutus said.

Denise’s eyes shot open. The curtains blocked most of the light, but enough came through for her to recognize Brutus’s bedroom. He stood beside the bed, bending to kiss her. He tasted minty fresh. She didn’t.

“Ugh.” She pushed up on one elbow, shoving her hair away from her face. “You brushed your teeth already.”

“Yeah, I got up a while ago.” He ran a finger over her cheek in a caress so gentle she almost didn’t feel it. “A man could sure get used to waking up next to you.”

What few brain cells were awake in her head were mush. She sat up and made a valiant effort to focus on him. “Uh,” she grunted. “Thanks.”

He directed a bright smile at her and she concluded he was suicidally chipper in the morning. Since the next thing he did was hand her a cup of coffee, she decided he could live. Besides, he looked darned good in a towel barely hanging onto his hips and little beads of water glistening on his pecs. As memories of last night bombarded her, she was sure he would look even better without the towel.

He glanced at the clock on the dresser. “I guess we better get moving. You’ll probably want to shower at your place before you go to work?”

Crap. Work.

She carefully set the coffee cup on the night stand and looked up at him. “So,” she said, trying to keep her voice calm and steady. “Was this a wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am sort of thing?”

“What?” The bright smile slid off his face, leaving him pale. “No! Dee, I, no.” He scrubbed a hand through his damp hair and stared at her. “No! No, Dee, you’re my—” he coughed. “I mean, if you want, you’re my, uh, my, oh, hell.” He tightened the towel at his waist, looking away from her for a second before his gaze came back to her with determination in their depths. “I like you, Dee. A lot. Would you maybe consider…”

He was adorable when he floundered. She opened her eyes exaggeratedly wide. “Are you asking me to go steady?” she whispered.

He let out a relieved breath that turned into a chuckle. “Yeah, will you go steady with me, Denise?”

“You bet I will.”

“Hot damn. I’ll dig out my class ring,” he promised.

She looked up at him, serious now. “Are we monogamous? We see only each other?”

“Yeah, that’s no problem for me. In case you hadn’t noticed, I don’t have women chasing me like Wolfe does.”

“I’m glad other women are too blind to see how hot you are.”

Pink crept up his face. “It’s only you for me, Dee.”

“It’s only you for me, Brutie.”

He kissed her, a tender, gentle kiss. “I hate that we have to go.”

“Me too.” She threw back the sheet and stood. His T-shirt came to mid-thigh. She eyed the brown dress lying over the back of the chair with disfavor. “Now the question is, what am I wearing home?”

Less than thirty minutes later they were parked in front of her apartment building. He was in his uniform and she was in a pair of his gym shorts, which were like baggy Bermuda shorts on her, and the T-shirt she’d slept in. Sexy, she was not.

“Dee.” He reached to lay a hand over the nape of her neck. “I’ll miss you today and tomorrow.”

“I’ll see you Tuesday, big guy.”

“Brats on the grill,” he confirmed, “with a side of beans and cold beer to wash it all down.”

“What vegetable do you want me to bring?”

“Surprise me.” He gave her a long, lingering kiss. “But I know what’s for dessert.”

 

It wasn’t until two weeks later that Denise and Stella had an evening free at the same time. Stella chopped vegetables for soup while Denise sat at the dining room table with her textbook open in front of her.

“No date with the muscle man tonight?” Stella inquired, sliding diced tomatoes into the soup pot.

“No, he’s working.”

Stella wiped her hands and sat at the table. “You two have been together nearly every minute since your dinner at the French restaurant. Things must be good between you.”

Denise closed the textbook. “They are.”

Every minute she spent with Brutus was pure heaven. Well, nearly every minute. Last night he’d come over with a black eye and a swollen cheek. He said it was a work-related injury and brushed her concern off with a joke. A tiny worm of doubt had wiggled its way in. But he wouldn’t lie about it, would he? What made her even more angry is that she hadn’t pressed the issue. She should have gotten the facts. Soon they were going to need to talk about it, but she didn’t need to share that with her sister.

She smiled at Stella. “How is it with you and Bodie?”

“Bodie?” Stella blue eyes opened wide. “I got rid of him weeks ago. Jerk. I’m with Jesse now.”

Good grief. “Oh. How it is going with Jesse?”

Stella eyes went dreamy. “It’s great. Really great. He talks to me. About everything. He says I’m not a dumb blonde and I could get a better job if I wanted. He said it’s nice that I’m pretty, but his favorite thing about me is my laugh. Can you imagine that?”

“You have lots going for you besides your looks,” Denise said loyally.

“That’s what Jesse says.” Stella twisted a lock of hair between her fingers, looking down at the table. “He asked me to move in with him.”

“Oh? Isn’t that kind of soon?” At Stella’s reproachful look, Denise hurried to explain. “I mean, you’ve only a known him for how long? A few weeks?”

Stella folded her arms, plumping her impressive bust. “And how long did you know the muscle man before you were dancing horizontally with him?”

Warmth flooded Denise’s face. “Not very long, I know. But I’m not moving in with him.”

“I like Jesse.” Stella took a deep breath. “But I don’t have the best track record with men. That’s why I asked Daddy to come and meet him.”

“Yeah. He wants to meet you, too.” Her sister leaned forward earnestly. “I know you’re not happy with him, and I don’t blame you, but you could at least meet him.”

“No.” It was automatic. Denise rose and had to grab the back of the chair to catch her balance. “No.”

“Well, all right.” Stella sounded disappointed. “He’s not coming until Thanksgiving. You still have a month to think about it, okay? Will you think about it?”

Denise snatched her book up. “Sure,” she lied. “I’ll think about it.”

She escaped to her room. The sperm donor was coming to Dallas? Denise wrestled with the urge to kick the wall in. The shiftless, lying asshole wanted to meet the daughter he’d abandoned before she was even born?

Oh, hell, no. She never wanted to see him.

She scooped up her phone to call Brutus, but immediately changed her mind. He was working. Occasionally he called her on his break, but who knew if he was busy. She could send a text. No, she needed someone to talk to now. She called her mom.

“Denise.” Her mom sounded surprised and happy to hear her voice. “I’m glad you called, honey. I expected a call a couple of weeks ago.”

Denise had avoided talking to her mom because she didn’t want her to know that Stella had come to stay. “Sorry. I’ve been busy. With school.”

“Well, I’m tickled you called now. I was going to call you one night this week.”

“Mom, I’ve got some news.”

“Me, too!” He mom laughed, a light-hearted sort of giggle Denise had never heard from her before. “Honey, do you remember Patsy North?”

Denise suppressed impatience. “Yeah, sure. She has that little place on Domingo Creek.”

“Well, she sold out last summer, and the new owner is William Peterson. He’s the new superintendent of schools here.”

Confused by the topic, Denise tried to be polite. “That’s nice.”

“I’ve been going out with him for the past two months.”

Denise dropped onto her bed. “What?”

“He’s great, honey. Really, really great. He’s forty-nine, divorced, with three kids, all grown.”

Denise blinked, trying to find words. This was clearly not the time to tell her mom who was coming to Dallas for Thanksgiving. “I’m so happy for you.”

“Thanks, honey. He’s looking forward to meeting you. You’re coming home for Thanksgiving, aren’t you?”

No chance of having to meet the asshole then. “Absolutely. I can’t wait to meet your new, er, boyfriend?” Her voice lifted on the last word, unsure of what to call a forty-nine year old man-friend of a fifty year old woman.

Her mom laughed again, that same joyous giggle. “You’ll love him. Will is funny, and romantic, and his kids are great.”

As far as Denise knew, her mother had never dated. “If he makes you happy, I already love him.”

Her mom’s voice softened. “He does. We’re not kids anymore. I think he is the one for me. I think we’re heading for marriage.”

“Wow.” Her mom, married? Denise tried to imagine it. “That’s wonderful.”

“You said you had some news, too?”

Definitely not mentioning the asshole. “Yeah. I’ve been seeing someone too. His name is Brutus Gunnison, and he grew up in our neck of the woods. Or hills. He’s from Kerrville.”

Her mom lost the giggles and put on her mom voice. “What does he do?”

“He’s got a good job. After he came home from Iraq, he started as an EMS with Dallas Fire & Rescue. He’s been with them for about nine years.”

“How serious are you two?”

Denise thought about it. “Pretty serious. I can see spending the rest of my life with him.”

Her mom gave her the third degree for the next fifteen minutes. She concluded with, “Well, he sounds like a nice boy. You bring him over for Thanksgiving.”

Denise couldn’t wait to tell Brutus her mom thought he was a nice boy. “I’m not sure what his plans are. He might have to work. Emergencies don’t hold off just because it’s a holiday.”

“His folks live thirty minutes away. I’m sure he goes home sometimes to visit. You bring him by one day when he’s home.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll talk to him.”

Brutus called later that night. “Hey,” he said in a low, intimate tone.

She flipped the text book closed and leaned back against her bed’s headboard. “I’m so glad you called.”

Something in her voice must have alerted him, because his voice sharpened. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. No.” She let out a breath and gathered herself. “Yes. I’m okay. It’s just that I’ve had some news. Stella invited her dad to come for Thanksgiving.”

“Her dad?” he repeated. “You mean your dad?”

“No!” Her hand clenched the phone so tightly her knuckles hurt. “Sorry I yelled. He’s not my dad.”

“Right. I get that. He’s an asswipe. You want me to take care of him? I could send him on a scavenger hunt to find the teeth I’ll rip out of his head.”

Her laugh was choked. The mental image was almost funny, but Brutus probably meant it literally. “No.” She swiped a thumb under her eye to catch a stray tear. “You’re so sweet, in a bloody sort of way.”

“Yeah, that’s me, sweet. Listen, I mean it. Say the word and I’ll take care of it.”

He would do it. Denise got a fleeting sliver of satisfaction imagining Brutus beating her sperm donor up. “I appreciate it, but I don’t want you fighting. You fight too much. We need to talk about that.”

“Sure.” A thread of impatience slid through his voice. “Not now, though. We need to get you and yo— Stella’s dad figured out first. He’s coming for Thanksgiving? How long will he be there?”

“I don’t know.” She hadn’t given Stella a chance to say anything about it. “I’m going home to the ranch. Maybe I’ll just stay there until I’m sure he’s gone. Are you going to Kerrville for the holiday? Mom wants to meet you.”

“I’ll get there for some part of the weekend. Not sure which days yet. The schedule at the station gets a little hairy in November and December. Always too many fires and other emergencies around the holidays, and plenty of us want the time off for family or vacation. But I’d be glad to meet your mom and your family.” He sounded a little hesitant. “I told my dad about you. He and mom would sure like to have you over sometime soon. Maybe sometime that weekend you could come to our place.”

“I’d love to. But you don’t sound too enthusiastic about it.”

He snorted. “I’m enthusiastic to have you meet my parents. My brothers are something else, though. They will rag on me for having you there. No one does ragging better than the Gunnison boys. Especially Gus. He’ll say something stupid and I’ll have to punch him, and then it will be a free for all. If Augie-dog says one thing to you that is even slightly off, I’ll have to pulverize him. And you don’t like me fighting. So then you’ll be mad at me, and mom will give us the angry mother look, and the whole thing will be a disaster.”

She couldn’t help laughing. “Augie-dog? Didn’t you say your brother hated being called Augie?”

“Yeah. That’s why I call him that.”

Brothers. Denise snorted to herself as she shook her head. “Thanks, Brutie. You made me laugh.”

“Could you please not call me Brutie while we’re at my parents?” He hurried to add, “I love it when you call me Brutie, but Cash and Gus? I’d have to thrash them.”

She laughed again. “Okay, I’ll call you Brutus there.”

His voice lowered. “My break’s about over. I have to go. But don’t worry. We’ll figure out a way for you to avoid the asshole, I promise. See you Saturday. Movie at seven.”

Talking to Brutus had made her feel better. She slid her phone onto the rickety bedside table and opened her book over her crossed legs. The semester was half over, and she had a ton of study and research to do for papers and tests. That gave her the perfect excuse to avoid Stella. Between her job and spending time with Brutus she was falling steadily behind with school. Time to hit the books hard.

On Saturday, Dog Heaven held an Adoption Day. Denise usually stayed a little later to help clean up after those days, but tonight Brutus was picking her up for a movie. She rushed home and gave Stella and her boyfriend Jesse a quick wave as she breezed past them to get cleaned up and changed. When she came out in clean jeans she was relieved to find no one in the kitchen. Stella’s bedroom door was open, but the room was empty. Maybe Stella was avoiding her too.

She glanced at the clock on the stove. Brutus should be here any minute. He’d said he’d pick her up at six-thirty. By seven, he still hadn’t showed. It wasn’t like him to be late. The phone rang in her hand.

“Hey,” Brutus’s voice was thick. “I’m sorry. I got hung up. I’ll be there in thirty.”

He was there in thirty-five, and the first thing Denise noticed when she opened the door was the size and shape of his nose. “Oh, my God,” she bleated. “What happened to your nose?” Her eyes travelled over his face and saw a split over his eye held together with a butterfly bandage. “You’ve been in a fight. Was it the asshole? Did you go find him and—?”

“No.” He moved into the apartment and sat gingerly on the couch. “Just a little disagreement over the war in Iraq.”

She knelt in front of him, trying to get a good look at his face. “Your nose must be broken. And you’re going to have two black eyes. And you’re moving too carefully.” Under the T-shirt she could see the bulk of a wrap. “Broken ribs?”

“A couple.” He shifted his weight, not quite hiding a wince. “We’re not gonna make the movie. Sorry.”

She stood up. “You should be home.”

He looked up at her, looking utterly miserable. “Wanted to see you.”

Disgust warred with worry inside Denise. “Okay. Can you drive home? I’ll follow you in my car.”

With great care, Brutus got himself into his truck and Denise drove behind him to his house. All the way over, she fumed. Another fight. She had known him only two months, and this was the third fight she knew about. Well, the third he’d admitted to. He had shown up a couple of times with bruises that he attributed to on the job injuries. Why would he lie about it? But doubt niggled at her. They were going to talk about this now. She had allowed him to wave her off and make a joke out of his previous bruises, but this was more than just bruises.

She got him settled in bed against a mountain of pillows with an ice pack over his eyes before she pulled a chair up beside the bed.

“Geez, Dee.” He lifted the ice pack to look at her. “You can sit on the bed. I’m not broken.”

She shook her head and moved the ice pack back over his eyes. “We need to talk.”

He mumbled something that sounded like, “Here it comes.”

“Brutus, I hate it when you fight.” She held up a hand when he moved the ice pack again to peek at her. “You keep that on for the next fifteen minutes.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Brutie, don’t joke about this. In fact, don’t say anything until I’m done. You always say the fights are nothing, just blowing off a little steam. But this isn’t blowing off steam. A broken nose, two broken ribs? No, Brutus.”

“Dee, it’s nothing. You should see the other guy.”

“That’s what I mean!” A little embarrassed by her shout, she cleared her throat. “So far, you haven’t been seriously hurt or seriously hurt anyone else. But if you keep fighting, how long can that last? How long before you send someone to the hospital? Before you are hurt so badly that…” Her voice broke. “Brutus, I can’t bear it.”

He tossed the ice pack aside and reached for her hand. “Aw, Dee. I can handle myself. It’s okay.”

“This time it’s okay.” She gripped his hand in both of hers. He winced slightly, so she opened her fingers to look at his raw knuckles. “Next time, who knows? Why do you fight so much?”

“Everybody fights. It’s just for fun.”

“Fun? Fuck that.” She surged up and paced away from the shocked look on his face. She struggled to control herself before turning back. “Look, Iraq screwed a lot of us up. If we are going anywhere as a couple, we have to get this figured out. I think you need to talk to someone.”

Shock flattened into a scowl. “Talk?”

“Yeah, talk to someone who can help you deal with stress.”

His mouth pressed into a flat line. “A shrink? You want me to talk to a shrink?”

“Not a shrink. Someone like Colonel Flowers. He’s the chaplain with the Guard.”

“A chaplain? Are you off your rocker?”

Denise took a deep breath and sat down again. “He’s good. He did two tours in Iraq himself, so he knows what it’s like.”

“No. I’m not talking to some holy roller, and I’m sure as hell not talking to a shrink.”

“Okay.” She took his hand. “That’s okay. You don’t have to. Brutus, I’m just scared that you’ll get hurt or hurt someone else. Every time I see a bruise on you, I worry. It scares me to see that you’ve been fighting.” She tried to blink hot tears back. “It makes me sick. I care about you too much to be able to live with that fear.”

Brutus lifted his head from the pillow to look at her. “Aw, Dee, don’t cry. I can’t take it when you do that.”

She sniffled. “Sorry.”

He pulled himself laboriously to a sitting position. “Sweetheart, if it will make you feel better, I’ll stop fighting.”

“Will you?”

He pulled her hand to his lips to kiss. “For you, I would do anything. You have my word, I won’t fight anymore.”

“Will you talk to someone? Maybe Dusty?”

He sighed. “Okay, sure. I’ll talk to someone.”