Look Again: A Novella (Echo Platoon Book 1) Page 4

  He reached for the phone by his bed. As usual, his former teammates Sam and Bronco and several others had sent him text messages meant to cheer him up. He decided to respond to them, but first he’d leave Katie a voicemail.

  Looking up her number was the easy part. He’d taken it off her business card and put it into his contact list. Finding the words he needed to say while her phone rang was harder. But hell, it would be even tougher to talk to her in person, so he could do this.

  “Hello?” A woman’s voice answered on a note of dread.

  “You weren’t supposed to pick up.” He said the first words to enter his head.

  “Tyler.” She heaved a sigh of relief, making him wonder whom she’d thought was calling. “What’s up?”

  He cleared his throat. “Well, I was calling to apologize for today. I thought you’d be asleep and I could leave a message, but that’s kind of cowardly,” he admitted.

  “I wasn’t sleeping. I can hang up if you want and you can call again and leave your message.”

  He smiled at the offer. “No that’s all right. You deserve an actual apology.” He took a deep breath and plunged ahead. “I was completely out of line today. I said things that weren’t true, and I was disrespectful to you. I’m really sorry.”

  The silence that answered his apology had him counting his heartbeats.

  “Actually, it’s my fault, Tyler,” she finally replied. “I should never have misled you about my reason for dumping a dog on you. His people did abandon him on my doorstep, but that was months ago. I’ve been training Bronson ever since.”

  “Bronco,” he corrected. “He likes the name Bronco better.”

  “Okay.” She gave a curious little laugh. “I’d like to hear the reason behind that.”

  “I’ll share it with you,” he promised, “on that date you owe me.”

  Another silence followed his veiled proposition. “Um, as I recall,” she finally replied, “you were going to have to watch Brons—Bronco—for ten days, and then I’d take you out to dinner.”

  He loved that she was playing hard to get. “How about I promise to watch Bronco for as long as you want, and we go to dinner at that new restaurant tomorrow night?”

  “Deal,” she said. “But I’m paying.”

  “We’ll go dutch,” he countered.

  “Fine,” she agreed. “You can pick me up at seven.”

  She had no difficulty giving orders, either. He liked that, too. “Yes, ma’am.”

  A comfortable silence fell between them. “Why aren’t you asleep?” he heard himself ask.

  She made a little whimpering noise. “There’s this man who’s been following me. He’s tried to break into my house, twice.”

  Alarm tightened Tyler’s scalp. “Seriously? Have you told the police?”

  “I have. My uncle—he’s the sheriff now. He drops by every three hours to check on me.”

  Well, that was something, but Tyler could think of more effective deterrents. “I guess you’re pretty spooked about it,” he observed.

  “A little.”

  He found himself wanting to comfort her. “Let’s talk more about this tomorrow,” he suggested “I’d like to help catch this guy. Can’t have you losing your beauty sleep.”

  Katie snorted. “Implying that I need it?”

  “Not at all. Even with bags under your eyes, you look good.”

  “That’s what you call a back-handed compliment.”

  “You want compliments? I can think of several.”

  “No, I’m not fishing. I’m just flattered that you’re talking to me—considering I lied to you.”

  “But you did it for good reason,” he admitted.

  “Thank you,” she said simply.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow night. Casual dress?”

  “Completely casual. Good night, T-Rex.”

  “Good night, Katie Cat.” He came up with the nickname on the spot.

  He waited for her to hang up first, and then he severed the call with a warmth that spread to his extremities. Their repartee on the phone had been wonderful and unexpected. Suddenly, he couldn’t wait for the hours to melt away between then and tomorrow evening when he got to take her out to dinner.

  With a smile on his face, he texted back his buddies, letting them each know that he was doing okay and missing them. He finally put his phone away and lay back against his pillow. Closing his eyes, he pictured Katie as she’d looked the day she’d first come to his house. Her intelligent and insightful gaze was as sexy as her perfect curves. Lucky me, he thought.

  The next time he opened his eyes the sun was shining and the morning was half gone.

  Chapter Four

  Katie knew when Goldie perked her ears and shot out of her bedroom that Tyler had arrived to pick her up for their outing—not technically a date since they were going dutch. She cast a critical glance into the mirror.

  Too casual? She’d opted for jeans and a cream-colored top with crocheted sleeves and a demure neckline. The scar at the base of her neck was clearly visible but Katie didn’t care. She found she wanted Tyler to know about what had happened to her and how she’d overcome it. The pink in her cheeks had nothing to do with the light layer of makeup she’d applied. She was looking forward to their evening together.

  Don’t get your hopes up, she warned herself.

  Toeing on a pair of strappy sandals, she hurried down the stairs to greet him. The silhouette looming at the window pane gave her a momentary start. But then she recognized the breadth of Tyler’s shoulders and her pulse leaped for a different reason. She took a deep breath, let it out again, then opened the door with what she hoped was a pleasant smile and not a cheese-eating grin.

  “Hi,” she said.

  His golden brown eyes hit her like a gale-force wind, rocking her back on her feet as they trekked intently downward, snagging briefly on her scar. “Hi, yourself,” he said looking back into her eyes.

  “You shaved,” she remarked, amazed at how much younger he looked without the scraggly beard.

  Goldie stuck her head through the door just then, saving him from having to explain himself. “Who’s this?” he asked, reaching out a hand for the dog to sniff.

  “This is Goldie. She’s my service dog.”

  His gaze jumped up questioningly, but Katie didn’t elaborate.

  “She’s expecting puppies in a few weeks. The father is that chocolate labra-doodle in my kennels. I think they’ll have beautiful pups.”

  Tyler stroked Goldie’s soft head. “I wondered what that dog was. What are you going to do with the puppies?”

  “I’ll give away some and keep the two most trainable ones.”

  He eyed her with a growing smile. “That sounds fun.”

  “It is. But it’s hard work, too.”

  A crackle of awareness passed between them as they stared into each other’s eyes. “Well,” said Katie, breaking the spell. “The restaurant fills up fast after seven, so we’d better get going.”

  He looked a bit surprised by her eagerness to leave. “Okay. You ready?”

  “Let me just grab my purse.” Backtracking to the closet door, she fished out her purse. “Stay, Goldie,” she said, stepping outside and locking the door behind her.

  Tyler was staring across the yard at Bronco, visible in the outdoor portion of his kennel. The dog yipped and made a growly sound as if trying to communicate. “I’ll come back for you, buddy,” Tyler called.

  Katie flipped on the porch light so it would be shining when she got back. With a smile for Tyler, she let him escort her off the porch.

  He limped with each step, his mouth crimped with pain, but the frown on his face told her not to comment. And once they were situated in his car, he became the competent and confident man she’d known. He shot her a smile that reminded her of how he’d looked back in high school.

  “You look fantastic,” he told her unexpectedly.

  The gruff timber in his voice brought heat flooding to her face. �
�So do you.” He wore a royal blue short-sleeved shirt over a pair of jeans, an ensemble that disguised his gauntness.

  He said nothing for a moment, turning left at the head of her driveway and accelerating. “You’re going to have to tell me where this place is,” he reminded her. “I’m just driving all distracted over here.”

  The subtle flirtation put a bubble of happiness in her chest. “You’re headed the right way,” she replied. “Turn north on the 522, and it’s just past the campground at the second bridge.”

  “Easy enough.” He snapped on the radio, filling the car with the liquid voice of country-music singer Blake Shelton. A dozen questions vied for articulation in Katie’s mind, but she knew the time wasn’t right to ask them. If this was Tyler’s first real outing since his injury—and something told her that it was—she needed to take things slowly.

  They arrived at Tim’s in exactly five minutes. The large, airy restaurant had been built on a finger of Lake Anna, with a deck and several windows overlooking the water. The distinct aroma of fried seafood greeted their nostrils. The hostess led them to a table for two in the corner of the room.

  Too romantic? Katie wondered, grateful for the privacy, nonetheless.

  Tyler pulled out a chair for her and she sank into it gracefully, lifting her bottom so he could push it closer.

  Then he collapsed into the chair across from her, grimacing as he took the weight off his legs. Katie couldn’t contain herself any longer. “That prosthesis really bothers you,” she observed.

  He shot her a fulminating look but she could tell his anger wasn’t directed at her. “It sucks,” he bit out. “They’re making me another one.”

  “Who’s they?”

  “The amputee clinic at Walter Reed.”

  She winced. “That’s a horrible word,” she admitted not needing to repeat it in order for him to understand.

  “Yes, it is,” he agreed. He snatched up his menu and pretended to study it.

  “The fish here is good,” she said helpfully. “So are the crab cakes.”

  The waitress came with their drinks. Katie had ordered a glass of white wine, while Tyler stuck to iced tea.

  “You don’t drink?” Katie asked. In high school, he’d been known to put away a six-pack all by himself.

  “Afraid if I start, I won’t stop,” he drawled without looking up from his menu.

  Sensing the tension thrumming in him, Katie cast about for something to say that would put him at ease. Why not admit to her high school crush? It might go a long way to soothing his battered pride. “I had a serious crush on you in high school, you know,” she confessed.

  He looked up, startled. A flicker of interest lit his eyes. “This is where I lose points for barely remembering you,” he admitted on a rueful note.

  She waved his apology aside. “Trust me, I was entirely unmemorable.”

  He set his menu aside. “Or maybe I was just blind,” he suggested.

  A blush heated Katie’s cheeks and she hid it by pretending to study the menu.

  A waiter sidled up to their table. They both ended up ordering identical plates—stuffed flounder with a salad and hushpuppies on the side.

  “So tell me what you did after high school,” Tyler requested.

  Her chest tightened. Here goes. “I went to UVA to study psychology.”

  He kept quiet, seemingly quite interested.

  “However, my junior year, a local man climbed through my dorm window and attacked me at knife point.”

  Tyler’s expression darkened. His gaze dropped to the scar on her neck.

  “I was saved by another student pounding on my door, but…” She drew a shaky breath. It was still so difficult to talk about. “The episode pretty much shattered my sense of safety. It took a year just to step out of my house and several more years of therapy to live a productive life again. My parents got me Goldie, and that’s when I got my life back. I finished my degree online and decided to train my own service dogs.”

  “Including Bronco,” he inserted. He seemed intrigued by the notion of her getting her life back.

  “Yes. He’s the smartest pup I’ve ever come across.”

  Tyler nodded. “I noticed that.”

  “What made you change his name?” she asked, relieved to shift the focus elsewhere.

  “I’ll show you,” he decided, pulling out his cell phone. She watched him thumb the screen before handing it across the table.

  The phone displayed a picture of several bearded warriors, each one dressed in camouflage and bristling with weaponry. Their confident poses and bad-ass expressions were the first thing Katie noticed. She spotted Tyler by his jet-black beard. The others looked as young and robust as he did.

  “You see the guy on the right with the lighter hair and blue eyes?”

  “Yes.”

  “He’s a great friend—all smiles and fun-times with a can-do attitude. The dog reminded me of him.”

  “They do resemble,” Katie agreed taking in the man’s blue eyes and killer smile. “Though I’d have to say he’s a good deal more handsome than Bronson.”

  “All the women say that. His name’s really Brantley Adams, but everyone calls him Bronco because he used to be a champion bronco rider.”

  “No kidding.” And now he was obviously a SEAL. “Do the others have nicknames?” She held the phone sideways so he could see it, too.

  “Some of them. That guy there is my peer—was my peer,” he amended with a quick frown. He pointed out a swarthy-skinned godlike creature with hair as black as his, but less facial hair. “His name’s Sam. I wouldn’t recommend calling him anything else. Then there’s Cooper, a junior lieutenant.” He pointed to a lanky blond. “The young one we call Bamm-Bamm.” He pointed to stockier youth who looked about nineteen years old. “The Asian guy goes by Haiku. And this is Jeremiah Winters.” The last warrior was the tallest with intelligent-looking features. “His first name’s Jeremiah, but we all call him Bullfrog.”

  “Jeremiah was a bullfrog,” she quoted. Then she arched an eyebrow. “Is that supposed to be complimentary?”

  “To a frogman, absolutely,” he said with conviction. “Makes him the mac-daddy of us all.”

  His smile fled as he realized that he’d once again included himself in their number. He gently plucked the phone from her hands and he put it away, avoiding eye contact.

  “You’ll always be a SEAL, Tyler,” she assured him quietly.

  He blinked thoughtfully, avoiding her gaze. “Funny, that’s what Sam said to me. But I don’t feel like one.”

  She longed to soothe him with further reassurances but something within her sensed he didn’t want to hear empty platitudes right then. “How’s your family?” she asked him.

  But his expression only darkened more. “Mom’s at the rehabilitation center in Gordonsville. She didn’t recognize me the last time I visited.”

  His flat tone could not disguise his heartbreak. “I’m so sorry, Tyler. Don’t stop visiting,” she advised. “You never know when she’ll have a lucid moment.”

  “Maybe you’d like to come with me next time?” he suggested, raising his gaze from the tablecloth.

  “I’d love that. Does she like dogs? Seeing an animal can sharpen the mind.”

  He cocked his head with visible hope. “Yeah, she loves dogs.”

  Katie shrugged. “Okay. Just tell me when you want to go, and I’ll arrange my schedule to do it.”

  “Who’s been stalking you?” he asked out of the blue.

  The reminder of her present troubles edged aside her eager anticipation. “I have no idea.” She explained how she’d arrived home one day to see a man fleeing from her front door. He’d left her dogs in an uproar and the pane set into her door shattered.

  “Then I kept seeing the same maroon Chrysler in my mirror, like he was following me. He tried to push my Honda off the road the other day.”

  Concern hardened the line of Tyler’s already chiseled jaw.

  “Then the
last episode happened just two nights ago. He tried to break in while I was sleeping.”

  “Christ,” he swore. To Katie’s surprise, he extended a hand across the table, palm-side up.

  Katie accepted his gesture of comfort, laying her own hand atop his. The firm but gentle pressure of his fingers as they crooked around hers made her mouth turn dry.

  “That must have awakened some painful memories,” he deduced, rubbing his thumb across her knuckles.

  “Definitely,” she breathlessly agreed. “But Goldie is trained to get me through panic attacks.”

  He eyed her curiously, unaware of his effect on her tingling nerves. “You think Bronco will help me the same way?”

  “I wouldn’t have foisted him on you if I didn’t think so.”

  He nodded and looked down at her hand. “Your skin is so soft.”

  “Shea butter,” she replied. “Trust me, if I didn’t use it day and night, my hands would be scarred and callused from hauling on leashes.”

  “You should be proud of the work you do,” he said.

  “I am.”

  The waiter approached them again with their food, forcing her to pull her hand back and concentrate on eating.

  The meal passed in a blur of pleasant conversation. Tyler, she discovered, shared many of her interests, from music to following current affairs. Even their political views were similar. By the time they finished eating, she felt comfortable trailing him out onto the deck that overlooked the water. A cooling breeze wafted across the inlet, making the waves dance and glitter in the waning sunlight. The swallows that had built nests under the adjacent bridge dipped and whirled, reflecting the tumult in Katie’s innards when Tyler caught up her hand.

  Only a couple times since college had she allowed herself to get physically intimate with a man, and both relationships had ended with her calling it off. Holding hands with Tyler was heavenly. But would she balk later if intimacy became a regular affair?

  “I should probably get back,” she told him. Regret vied with her desire to stay in this perfect moment forever. “I don’t like to leave my dogs alone for long.”