Rachel Gibson - Rescue Me

He wrapped the soft leather belt around his waist. Lord, she was dramatic.

“But I did. His name is Jeremiah.”

He looked up and wondered why she thought he’d care. Oh yeah, she thought he was her dad.

“So I won’t be around as much.”

Praise Jesus.

“So is Sadie gonna stick around?”

Even if he wanted her to stick around, she’d always said she was going to get the hell out of Lovett as soon as she had the chance. Back to her real life. When they’d first met, it was one of the reasons he’d found her so appealing. Now there were a lot of things about her that appealed to him. Besides the obvious, she was smart and tough. These past few days, she’d been strong in the face of her loss. Unlike his own mother who had always fallen to her knees when she fell apart, Sadie stood and faced what came at her with calm dignity. He liked that about her. Sadie’s leaving was no longer one of the things he liked about her though. He wouldn’t mind if she stuck around. When he’d first driven into town, he’d thought he was going to be around for only a week or maybe two. Shit happened, or to paraphrase Donald Rumsfeld, there were known knowns, known unknowns, and unknown unknowns. The press had made fun of the former defense secretary for that statement, but it made perfect sense to guys like Vince who’d gone into known unknowns only to land in a shit storm of unknown unknowns. He loved a well-executed plan of known knowns. He liked to anticipate complications. Liked to see trouble coming before a known known became a known unknown. Or worse. An unknown unknown where there was nothing left but to blow shit up and shoot anything that moved. Just burn the fucker down.

“You’re a nice man and deserve a nice woman.”

Which showed how much she knew. He wasn’t a nice man. He’d seen and done things he would never talk about with anyone outside the teams. Things civilians would never understand. Horrific things that left a mark on his soul, yet things he wasn’t sorry about and would do again if his country asked it of him. Things he would do to protect his family. Only his family didn’t need him to protect them anymore.

“I think you’re really great, Vince.” Her big brown eyes looked across at him.

His phone beeped and he pulled it out of his pocket. He opened the text and read: Rescue me . There was a lot to do at the Gas and Go. He’d spent all day looking at apartments, and the last four days he’d spent with Sadie. He was behind on his renovations. He could get in a few good hours yet today. He needed to get in a few more hours today before he left for Seattle in a few days. The unexpected trip was going to set him back even further, which could cost him money.

Vince hated losing money almost as much as he hated the unknown unknowns and owing people.

He slid the phone into the side pocket of his cargo pants. “It’s late,” he said. “Time to go home.” He ushered Becca out the back door and jumped into his truck. On the drive out to the JH, he didn’t bother to ask himself why he was dropping everything to rescue Sadie. It made no sense, and he preferred things to make sense. A well-executed plan. A clarity of purpose. A known known.

He turned off the highway and drove beneath the entrance of the JH Ranch. He’d like to tell himself that it wasn’t anything more than a sex thing. That was the simple answer. Straightforward. Clear. But walking toward him, tiny plumes of dust coming off the heels of her boots, looking sexy as hell, was one smoking hot complication. What old Don Rumsfeld called the known unknowns.

The smart thing to do would be to turn around before the unknown part of that equation blew up into a shit storm. He hated shit storms. Hated the feeling creeping up on him like he was in unfamiliar territory. Every good warrior knew when to abort. To get the fuck out. For half a second he thought of flipping a U. Then she smiled and her hand lifted in a little wave and it felt like someone shoved a fist to his diaphragm. He had to remind himself to breathe. He hit the button on the door and the window slid down.

“Hey there, sailor,” Sadie said as a cloud of pale dust rose from the dirt road. She looked through the open window and her gaze met black hair and green eyes set in a face that just seemed to get better-looking every time she saw him.

“Where ya headed?” he asked.

“Anywhere.” She waved the dust away. “Interested?”

“Depends.” He grinned. “What do you have in mind?”

She smiled, a real smile, for the first time that day. “Poor decisions we’ll probably regret later.”

He motioned to the empty seat beside him. “Hop in.”

She didn’t have to be told twice. Several cars filled with mourners had passed her on her walk down the road. They’d been kind and well-intentioned, but she was all talked out. She slid into the seat and pulled the belt around her. “Lord, what a day.” She took off her hat and leaned her head back.

“Tired?”

“Mmm.”

“How’d it go?” He turned the truck around and headed back toward town.

She turned her head on the rest and looked across the cab at him. This from the guy who said he didn’t want conversation? “The service was nice. Tons of flowers, and a lot of people turned out. Enough food to feed a village. Which in Texas is a big deal.” Sitting in the comfort of his truck, she let herself relax for the first time all day. Perhaps in the past week. “What did you do all day?” Wow, they alarmingly sounded like a couple. Which was a little scary.

“Looked for an apartment and bought an air mattress and sleeping bag in Amarillo.”

“I didn’t know you were looking.” He wore his usual uniform of brown T-shirt and beige cargo pants. He was the only guy she knew who could wear such bland colors and make them look anything but dull.

He pulled onto the highway. “Luraleen came home last night.”

“I know. She was at the funeral and brought a Frito pie afterward.”

He glanced at her, then back at the road. “Which is just one of many reasons I moved out.”

Her brows lifted up her forehead as she studied his profile, his big neck and shoulders in his tight T-shirt. “You found something already? That was fast.”

“I move fast.”

“I remember. The second time I met you, you had your hand up my dress.”

He chuckled and glanced over at her. “You weren’t complaining.”

“True.”

He reached around the back of his seat and handed her a cold bottle of Diet Coke and a bag of Chee-tos.

She looked at the orange bag in her lap. Felt the cold bottle in her hand, and her chest suddenly got heavy. The bottom of her heart pinched a little. In the past, men had given her flowers and jewelry and lingerie, and her heart was getting all achy about Chee-tos and Diet Coke? “Dinner?” It had to be the emotions of the day. “Careful. Next you’ll be asking me to a movie.”

“I have an ulterior motive.”

She opened the bottle, took a drink, and blamed the funny little feeling in her stomach on carbonation. “I’m pretty much a sure thing. You don’t need to ply me with Chee-tos and Diet Coke to get lucky.”

“I never rely on luck.” He glanced over at her and the corner of his mouth lifted up. “I rely on a well-executed plan. It’s called full-circle readiness.”

“Is that in the SEALs handbook?”

“Somewhere.” He laughed, a soft, amused sound that tickled her pulse. “Somewhere between ‘on time, on target, never quit,’ and ‘grab your sack and jump.’ ”

She smiled. “Your rucksack?”

“That, too.”

“Do you miss jumping out of airplanes?”

He looked out the driver’s side window. “Not as much as I used to, but yeah.”