Chapter 4
Oakley propped her feet up on a spare fold-out chair, busily clicking away on the keys of her laptop. The sun shone brightly, but the temperatures had taken a dip with a recent cold front, making it feel more like a gorgeous early spring day than near summer. Certainly, the rare mixture of comfortable temperature and slight breeze dictated she plant herself outside, avoiding the den of darkness inside. Hercules roamed the backyard, sniffing here and there before finally settling down under a nearby shade tree to watch life in the form of squirrels and people walking the park trail a distance way pass him by.
She loved her job and truly lucked out in finding it. Armed with two masters degrees, one in health, the other in nutrition, she approached Hilltop last year, hoping to land an instructor position since she loved the community and would only have a short drive to work; the smaller junior college appealed to her much more than a large university. They hired her to instruct online classes and she reveled in the luxury. Not everyone garnered the opportunity to work from home, make their own hours, and have more time off than a regular worker per week.
Instructor pay through the college wasn't something to sneeze at, but Oakley taught a self-defense class through the local Y each week to supplement her income. Besides the extra money, it allowed her to practice her skills, socialize with people, and help others, particularly women, learn to defend themselves in case of emergency. She liked to believe her classes boosted their confidence, empowered them, and provided a necessary tool for those women in today's world.
Her relationship with martial arts had begun her freshman year in college. Sarah, her overly shy roommate, had needed some social skills when it came to dealing with the opposite sex, so Oakley had taken it upon herself to introduce Sarah to Matt, a guy in her algebra class that had seemed nice and outgoing enough to make up for Sarah's uncertainty. Not only had she introduced them, but she'd set them up on a date.
Unfortunately, Matt's outward appearance had covered up a monster underneath. Sarah had returned from her date, battered and bruised, following a horrid date rape. The images replayed through Oakley's mind as if it were yesterday.
Oakley glanced up when Sarah walked back into their dorm room, stunned and shocked at the woman standing before her. Where a shy, but pretty young lady stood three hours earlier, antsy and eager for her first taste of dating, now stood a broken and aged woman. Fresh tears trickled down Sarah's puffy cheeks, both red with exertion and purple as a result of a violent beating. Her arms carried the same marks, though more widespread with her upper arms showing defined discoloration where fingers had dug deeply into the tissue. Hardly able to speak Sarah jerked away from physical contact, begging to be left alone and refusing to speak of the encounter.
Sick to her stomach at what must have happened, Oakley quickly picked up the phone and dialed the authorities while Sarah pleaded for her to stop, to not tell another soul. Angry and frightened, she marched over to her bed and collapsed, curling up into a small ball, as if trying to block the world out. Keeping a close eye on her friend, Oakley gave campus security a quick rundown of what she knew and had seen, quickly agreeing to transport a wounded Sarah to the nearest hospital. A short battle ensued with Sarah refusing to leave the bed, let alone her room. With equal parts cajoling and commands, Oakley managed to bundle her up, walk her down the stairs, and out to her car. On the way to the hospital, she dialed Sarah's parents, delivering the horrifying news. Once again she heard the cries of her mother, roar of her father, and Sarah's muffled sobs.
A few days later Sarah had returned to collect her belongings as she'd decided to drop out of school. A previously vivacious but quiet young woman had stood before her, thin and fearful, a fraction of the person she'd been. Oakley had blamed herself, despite Sarah's insistence that it wasn't her fault. If she hadn't gotten the two together, Sarah wouldn't have suffered a trauma that would haunt her for life.
The campus counselor, a compassionate middle-aged woman with experience in rape and sexual assault victims, had taken Oakley under her wing, leading her through the process of grieving for her friend and presenting coping mechanisms to help her deal with the tremendous guilt she carried on her shoulders each and every day. Those recommendations had included a self-defense class along with running.
Oakley had thrown herself into both, clinging to the positives each one provided. Jogging had taken her mind elsewhere, relieved her stress, and allowed her to push out the negatives with each step. Self-defense had returned control over her life, along with confidence, and the gumption to know that if a crisis occurred, she could deal with it. Karate had offered more possibilities, but she'd never felt athletic enough to perform the high kicks and twists. Instead, she'd looked to the areas that required less physical strength, embracing both judo and taekwondo. She'd even enrolled in a few tai chi classes during her time at the university. If they'd had a minor for martial arts, she would have earned it easily with the number of hours devoted to the programs. It had garnered her certification, though, which allowed her to teach today.
The incident left her with more than guilt. Afterward, she found herself looking at all men as if they were wolves waiting to grab up a young lamb for dinner. Her mind told her the thoughts were irrational and downright wrong, but she couldn't bring herself to get close to any level of trust with the opposite gender. The counselor had explained all those feelings were normal, pointing out other avenues to conquer her trust issues. For the most part, they worked. She didn't fear men. On the contrary, she interacted with male coworkers, friends, and students all the time without any difficulty. She simply hadn't found one that motivated her to get naked and sleep with them. She refused to pine away for a man the way her mother did for grandchildren. Instead, she enjoyed her life and the freedoms that other women her age didn't have with families to tie them down.
That's what perplexed her about Tanner. They'd met yesterday, but she never once felt skittish or unsettled in his presence. Even his not-so-subtle offer to share dessert and the night didn't push her panic button. It was like he asked her whether or not she wanted a cherry on top of her sundae. How odd. Especially for such a large physical specimen. Rational thought led her to believe the bigger the man, the more unease he would evoke. Not so with Tanner.
The tomcat.
She quickly quelled a pang of jealousy at the thought of his night spent with a strange woman, practicing the horizontal mambo. Why did it matter to her what he did? Other men engaged in the same behavior. If rumors were true, most single men sought out one night stands to care for their sexual needs. Women, too. So, if it was such a commonly acknowledged practice, why did her gut turn over at the thought of Tanner having sex with a beautiful woman he picked up in a bar?
She released a pent-up sigh, unable to find answers to the many questions racing through her head. Men. Supposedly they were easy to understand. Except for her. Obviously, she had no idea what went through their minds. Probably never would.
The rumble of a sliding door broke into her thoughts. Glancing up, she found Tanner stepping out into the afternoon sunshine, dressed in khaki shorts and a white T-shirt. His posture appeared more brazenly relaxed than yesterday. His eyes held a lazy expression, as if he'd just climbed out of bed and had absolutely no obligations for the entire day.
Probably a side effect of last night's sordid activities.
"Hello." He spoke first as he glanced her direction.
"Good afternoon." She shot him a grin. With stunned surprise, she realized she eagerly awaited another round of verbal exchange. "By the sound of the train roaring through your house, I trust you slept well?"
He snorted, still looking over the yard and ensuing park. "You must have me confused with that horse you call a dog."
"Oh. Now that could be." She readily agreed since Hercules could wake the dead with his snoring. "When do you leave on business again?"
"Ready to get rid of me already?" The corner of his mouth hitched up.
"Nah, I kinda like you." Just as his smile grew, she shot him down. "Although it's only been one day, so that could change with a bit more time."
Tanner actually chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mirth. "I'll grow on you."
"Like mold?"
He stepped closer. "Oh, I'm much better than mold. I'm sexy, handsome, well-endowed, and know my way around a woman's body."
Her face immediately heated at his bluntness. "And humble too." She couldn't believe she was sparring toe-to-toe with him, but her pulse raced in excitement while she bit back smiles and laughter at his witty responses. It was fun. More fun than she'd had in a long time.
"A man has no need for humbleness when he's too sexy for his shirt," Tanner tossed back, a dimple appearing in his left cheek with the wide grin.
"Shakespeare?"
"Tanner Owens. And, I would never be caught in tights and that modified tutu."
She burst out in giggles, that image flying through her mind. "Codpiece optional?"
"Who needs one of those when you have the real thing?"
"Who indeed?" She lifted an eyebrow, taking a moment to stare at the area in question. Not that she could tell much with his loose shorts.
A sense of wonder hit. What was she doing checking out a man's groin? And doing so while he stood there watching her, knowing exactly what she was looking at. Flames burst once more across her face.
The hyena threw back his head and guffawed. "Like what you see?"
She broke eye contact, looking away, covering her hot face with one hand.
Good grief.
Now she was baiting the tomcat.
"Oh, Annie?"
The sound of an incorrect name caught her attention. Dropping her hand, she pulled her gaze back up to his jovial face. "That's not my name. It's Oakley, in case you forgot."
"I like Annie, as in Annie Oakley." He stepped closer, leaning against the side of the condo with arms crossed over his chest.
She rolled her eyes at him. "Yeah, too bad I don't have a gun to shoot you in the butt with."
Tanner leaned closer, tsking at her. "Now, now." He reached out to gently tug on her ponytail.
A loud ding sounded from inside. Oakley looked up at him with a saucy grin. "My apple crisp is done."
He licked his lips. "Gonna share?"
She stood, taking a moment to consider, while she cradled the laptop in the crook of her left arm. "Maybe, if you drop the Annie business." Not waiting for an answer, she marched into the kitchen, Hercules fast on her heels.
A deep chuckle followed.
Chapter 5
Tanner watched her go, eyes raking over her firm backside as her hips shifted with each fluid step.
Man, oh man.
The way her eyes lit up, sparkling with passion as they teased and sparred. He wondered if they would do the same as she lay naked under him, writhing and pleading for him to take her. Her arms would pull him close, lithe legs opening to reveal her innermost secrets.
What was he thinking?
You don't date neighbors. Things go bad and you're stuck with them.
But, she would be a joy to bring to fulfillment. All that untapped feminine potential. Just the thought made his stomach flip. Other parts stood up and took notice as well.
Down, Marine.
Cold showers sucked and night didn't arrive for several more hours to get the bar scene hopping once more.
The vibration of his cell phone caught his attention. Recognizing the number on caller ID, he immediately flipped the top open. "Owens."
"You didn't call me back." Spoon's voice carried through the small device.
Tanner had forgotten until just then. "Sorry, bro. I got busy."
"Uh-huh. Distracted by that cute little filly next door?"
He snorted, not ready to delve into a conversation about Oakley. Spoon had a talent for weaseling out all kinds of information. Great asset for the Wind Warriors on assignments, but a bad habit when it came to the personal life he wanted to keep to himself.
"Gotta admit those strawberry bran muffins hit the spot. Who knew health food could taste good?" Spoon rambled on.
"I wouldn't know. You and the dog ate mine." Tanner strode off the porch, leisurely walking toward the park while talking. It wouldn't do for Oakley to overhear their conversation. She didn't need more ammunition.
Laughter cackled through the phone line.
Taking the opportunity, he changed the subject. "So, what's up?" On their downtime, the guys occasionally got together to shoot the breeze, but most of the time they headed separate ways.
Cale, another of the team, scurried off to Cooperstown any chance he got to see his steady girlfriend, Lily. Tanner met her once, as the team intercepted a handful of nest vipers closing in on Lily's house, where Cale and his injured brother, Dillon, holed up. A sweet woman and easy on the eyes. He could see why Cale returned to her time and again.
Dillon was partially retired after the gunshot wound forced him to lay low with Lily for a few days. He already had a girl, Della. Last Tanner heard they were engaged and planning a wedding sometime this coming year. Talk about enamored. All any of them heard about for the past six months was Della. He worshiped her and loved her to pieces. None of them blamed him for wanting to leave the group to spend more time with his girl and start on the family they longed for.
Truth be told, most of the guys envied Cale and Dillon. Girlfriends and wives were a rare luxury in their line of work. Not just because the job took them away so much, but because of the dangers everyone faced. Families could be found and threatened, even worse, if confidences were broken or the wrong person overheard or hacked into accounts. Secrecy and security extremes kept them safe. It wasn't an easy life for the men, but it wore doubly hard on the women, never knowing when or if their loved one would make it home. For the most part, it shadowed the lives of sweethearts and wives of military members with the exception that Wind Warriors' jobs were typically much shorter, allowing them to return more often. At the same time, most military wives didn't worry about hardass criminals targeting them for revenge. A trade off.
"Earth to Loco. Come in, Loco." Spoon's amused tone snapped him back.
"What?"
A short chuckle followed. "You've got it bad, soldier."
"Marine. And no, I don't." Military records and branches of service were common knowledge among the Wind Warriors. Spoon damn well knew he was a Marine. It was an old game, a way to yank his chain, one that no longer ruffled Tanner's feathers.
"Uh-huh." A beat later Spoon continued. "Want to hit the town tonight? I've got some time and energy to blow."
"Maybe. But I can't stay out all night."
"A little pump and dump kick your ass last night?"
Tanner snorted. "As if. No, I have a 5K race at seven-thirty in the morning."
"Huh?"
For the first time, Tanner grinned. Not often could he shake Spoon. "I'm running in a 5K tomorrow morning."
"What the hell? On purpose? Ohhhhh." The tone indicated puzzle pieces clicked together. "Oakley. You're running with her." A moment passed as he laughed quietly. "You do have it bad, bro."
Rolling his eyes, Tanner set the man straight. "The entry fee money goes to buy new tennis shoes for underprivileged kids. I'm doing it for the charity."
"Uh-huh. So, what time do I pick you up?"
"I'll meet you there on the slim chance you get lucky."
"Slim chance? You forgot who you're talking to, soldier."
"Marine. And twenty hundred."
"Make it nineteen thirty. And I'll meet you at your place; it's on the way. Besides, that pretty neighbor of yours might have some treats to share."
"Apple crisp."
"Mmmm. That sounds good."
"But only if you don't call her Annie." Tanner grinned, remembered the rise he got out of her before.
"Why would you call her that?"
"Annie as in Oakley."
Spoon snorted. "Call her that and she just might shoot you with your own gun."
"That's what she said." Laughter flooded the lines on both sides. "Okay. Nineteen thirty here at the condo."
"Got it. Later."
Tanner snapped the phone closed. Damn Spoon and his cat-like curiosity. He had to watch his tongue tonight or the former Green Beret would declare him besotted. A grin slipped out. That word labeled Dillon, much to the young Navy Seal's chagrin. He didn't squabble more than a couple of times, though, telling them all that Della was worth all the teasing they could throw at him.
"If you're hungry, I have enough dinner for two," Oakley's voice called from a few feet away.
He turned to meet her gaze. "I'm always hungry." His breath caught with the sheer glow of her smile.
Off-limits, Marine.
His long strides ate the distance between them as she led him back to her kitchen.
* * * *
"Loco? You around?" Spoon's voice came from the front.
"Back here," Tanner answered, watching as his buddy rounded the corner dressed in jeans and a snug T-shirt, his uniform for a night of patrolling for babes.
"Loco? Meaning you're crazy?" She snorted. "Somehow, I'm not surprised."
Tanner's lips twitched at her dry humor.
"Could be. Although, it really comes from the way he does high-risk jobs, living in the gray area between insane and extremely courageous," Spoon explained as he walked up to them.
Tanner glared at the slightly shorter man. The less she knew about their work, the better.
"Dessert?" Spoon ignored Tanner, flashing a large smile with dimples at Oakley.
"Since you asked so nice." She took the bait, hastily heading inside to get the newcomer a share.
Shoveling another bite of apple crisp into his mouth, Tanner shook his head at Spoon. "Leech."
Not taking offense, Spoon pulled up the extra fold-out chair and plopped down. "Hey, I'm a growing boy. Besides, those muffins were tasty."
"Yeah, yeah." He brushed off some crumbs from the white button-down shirt before wiping his hands across the faded jeans. Right after dinner, he'd zipped over to change clothes, making sure to be ready in plenty of time.
Oakley emerged from the house with a large plateful for Spoon. Handing it over, she graced him with a smile. "I brought another bottle of water for you too." She started to place it in his lap, then froze, as if changing her mind.
Tanner grabbed the bottle from her slack fingers, gave it a toss, and watched it land smack against Spoon's groin. "Thought you needed cooling off a bit."
Spoon shot him a one finger salute as he scooped a large bite of crisp.
Oakley giggled. "You two are something." Taking a breath, she looked to Spoon. "You said your name was… well, something horrendous. How did you get tagged with Spoon?"
"Because he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth," Tanner quickly answered.
"Hey, it's not all it's cracked up to be," Spoon complained between bites.
"Whatever."
Hercules took that moment to amble up from his spot under the shade tree. Sniffing Tanner, he headed over to the new man and snuffled his groin with enthusiasm.
"Hey!" Spoon lifted the plate but didn't have any free hands to push the large dog away.
Oakley giggled. "Herc! Be nice!"
"Seems even dogs want a piece of you."
"KMAGYOYO."
Tanner snickered at the military lingo for kiss my ass, not in the least upset with Spoon's words. He threw out those same insults to each of the guys from time to time. All part of the brotherhood.
Spoon handed over the empty plate and fork with a gracious smile after nearly inhaling the food. "Thank you. That was wonderful." Standing, he clasped her hand, kissing her knuckles lightly. "Ready, Rambo?"
Tanner shook his head, winking at Oakley. "He's incorrigible. You can't live with him, but he does have an occasional good moment."
She laughed and waved. "See you at six forty-five am."
"You bet." With one final look at Oakley, Tanner trotted after Spoon, preparing for the ribbing to come. Spoon, always the jokester, couldn't leave this one alone.
Come to think of it, I haven't kicked Spoon's ass in a while.
If the Green Beret was smart, he would keep his mouth shut. But when did that ever happen?