One Lucky Hero

For my sisters; Natalie, Nicole, Tina, Jen, Erin, Tasha, Elaine. Love you all!

V
IOLET
D
OUGLAS LIFTED
her face to the bright sunlight beaming down from the clear August sky. Her large black sunglasses shaded her brown eyes from the harsh glare, but she closed them anyway, breathing in the scent of barbeque and beer. As she leaned back on her hands, scratchy blades of grass bit into her palms and made her bare legs itch, but she didn't care. It just felt so good to take a break from her life.

“Girl, are you sleeping?” Violet's best friend, Tracy Washington, sat next to her, and Violet turned her way when Tracy added, “We did not pay thirty dollars for these concert tickets so you could take a nap!”

No, they definitely hadn't, but they also weren't all that excited about the current band playing on the stage. While the majority of the park was set up with vendor's tents, the massive stage was supposed to have a host of acts each taking their turn. The concert had started earlier in the day, but Violet and Tracy had only arrived a little after four. There was no point waiting around in the heat for an artist they didn't like.

“I was just enjoying the fresh air.”

“Shit, I don't know how fresh it is, but the scenery is fantastic.”

Violet opened her eyes just as Tracy pulled her own dark sunglasses down her nose, obviously ogling a couple of shirtless guys in board shorts.

“Mmmm, I am telling you, some of these guys have got to be from the base. No gym rat could look that good.”

“What are you talking about? All of them work out the exact same way. They lift weights and run for a ridiculous amount of time.” Violet hated running personally and couldn't understand the appeal.

“No, military men don't run on a treadmill. Plus, they carry guns, and that's hot,” Tracy said.

“So do cops and criminals.” Violet nodded toward a couple of uniformed men walking through the crowds of people wandering around Discovery Park.

“Please, those are rent-a-cops, they barely have pepper spray.” Tracy gathered her long black hair up off her neck and fanned herself. “Fuck, it is hot out here.”

Of course it was hot. Sacramento, California, in the dead of summer felt like someone turned up a heat lamp and adjusted it to hit you right on the forehead. It was nearly six in the evening and still 104 degrees in the shade. Violet had lathered her pale skin with SPF 50 and had packed the bottle, a sweatshirt, and a blanket in her tote bag. Not that she really thought the heat would burn off tonight, but just in case, she didn't want to be caught without something.

Was that a sign that she was aging before her time? Being super prepared and sleepy at the thought of staying at the park until at least eleven? She was only twenty-four, and yet the drama that had taken over her life for the last ten years made her feel much older. Being the legal guardian of her brother and sister had definitely added to that. At her age, she should have been hitting bars and dating, but she had very little experience with either.

Not that she was a prude by any means, but after her mother had died and her dad's drug abuse worsened, she'd withdrawn from most of the kids in high school, and because she wasn't free to go out most weekends, guys had seemed to forget about her. At the time, she'd been too distracted to care, but now she was determined to make up for lost time. Especially with her sister, Daisy, leaving for Oregon State University in mid-September. Then she'd just have her brother, Casey, at home to worry about.

Of course, Casey hadn't exactly been easy to deal with for the last year. At first, Violet had just assumed her brother's moodiness was a side effect of puberty, but it had become more than that. He'd stopped going to his art classes at the youth center and started getting into trouble at school. It wasn't like him; Casey had been this unstoppable bundle of energy, until he wasn't. Now he hardly left the house, and when he did, half the time he came home in a foul mood, or worse, had another run-in with the cops and was brought home in a squad car. She'd grounded him, taken away privileges, and tried over and over to get him to talk to her, but he just kept saying he was fine. She desperately needed this break from trying to figure out what had happened to her little brother.

Just four more years and you can really focus on what you want. No one else.

“Oh, man, check out that guy,” Tracy said. She adjusted her halter top, showing off another half inch of her cleavage.

Violet followed her gaze to two guys in cargo shorts and T-shirts about a hundred yards away, walking toward them. Violet's eyes passed right over the blond pretty boy and latched onto his tan, muscular friend. His dark hair was shaved close, and she couldn't tell what color his eyes were, but she was already dying to get a closer look.

“Which one?” Violet asked.
Don't pick mine. Don't pick mine.

“The one who looks like a young Paul Walker. Damn, I could eat him up with a spoon.”

“Gross, Trace.” Violet stood up with a grin, pulling the hem of her shorts down. “Dibs on his friend.”

“Oh, you're calling dibs, huh? What do you want him for?” Tracy rose to her feet, staring at the two men. “He looks like a dick.”

“You can't tell that by looking at him. And as to what I want to do with him, I just want to have a good time.” Well, maybe a little more than that. Over the last few months, Violet had been feeling rather restless. Was restless the right word? More like bored as fuck. It was the same thing every week: school, work, volunteer, cook, clean, drama, repeat. This was her first night out in months, and she wanted to take full advantage of her freedom.

“Your version of a good time or mine?” Tracy teased.

Violet laughed, remembering when Tracy had nearly been arrested for indecent exposure. She'd been drunk and getting it on with some guy in a club. The bouncer had threatened to call the cops if she didn't get her top back on and leave, and she'd actually flipped him off as she'd strutted out the door in her bra, the guy she'd been hooking up with following behind. There was no question that Tracy was crazy, but Violet loved her.

That didn't mean she was ready to become an exhibitionist, though.

“Somewhere in between, I think.”

“Then let's go.” Tracy took off, leaving Violet to grab her tote and catch up with a heavy sigh. Why was it that Tracy could never be subtle about anything, especially when it came to men?

Probably because she's never met a guy who's said no.

“Dude, you can't just walk up to them and be like,
What's up
!”

“Why not?” Tracy didn't slow down, but her tone sounded mildly puzzled.

“Because they might not be interested. They might have girlfriends. They might—”

“Will you shut up and follow my lead? If they don't take the bait, then we'll move on to hotter victims.”

Violet wasn't sure how she felt about calling men
victims.
“Easy for you to say! Guys trip all over themselves to get with you.”

Tracy tossed her hair and stared down her prey with laser focus, even as she hissed, “I swear to God, if you do not stop that shit, I will kick your ass. You are gorgeous. You look like freaking Julia Roberts in
Pretty Woman,
and I would kill for your long legs, so hush your butt and focus!”

About ten feet away, the Paul Walker look-alike glanced their way, started to turn back to his friend, and then did a double take. Violet caught Tracy's
come and get me, big boy
look and would have laughed, except that tall, dark, and potentially dickish followed his buddy's gaze. And when his eyes met hers—eyes like melted chocolate above a Roman nose and full lips—she swallowed hard.

But then his full lips pinched tightly in displeasure.

Violet's excitement shriveled like a popped water balloon.

“Hello, ladies.” The blond flashed a million-watt smile at them, but Violet was immune. Maybe he was handsome in an obvious way, but she liked someone with more character to his face.

Too bad
that
guy seemed to be looking everywhere but at her. Did she have a booger on her face or something?

“Hey there.” Tracy's voice had dropped two octaves and sounded like the purr of a cat.

“I'm Tyler.”

“And I'm Tracy.”

“Check that out, T and T. I guess that means we'd be dynamite together.”

Tracy actually giggled. Violet snorted at the cheesy line, earning an elbow in her ribs from Tracy.

“This is my friend, Violet,” Tracy said.

“Nice to meet you.” Violet pushed her sunglasses on top of her head and held her hand out to Tyler.

“Nice to meet you, too. This is Dean.”

Dean.
She'd always liked that name. It wasn't a name used that often anymore, kind of like her own. She might have to use that little observation to break the ice, since his features were definitely schooled with a chilly edge.

She released Tyler's hand and held hers out to Dean, who took it reluctantly. His palm was warm, rough, and heat seared her skin as he squeezed gently. Violet's gaze shot up to meet his eyes, but he didn't seem affected by her at all.

“Hi, Dean.”

“Hey.” His voice was deep and gravelly, like Mathew MacFadyen without the accent.
Of course he would sound like Mr. Darcy . . .
His cool demeanor was definitely reminiscent of him.

He released her hand abruptly and wiped his along his shorts. Self-consciously she rubbed her finger across her palm, but it didn't feel sweaty.

What was his problem?

“So, where are you boys headed?” Tracy seemed oblivious to the tension between Violet and Dean, despite Violet's attempt at telepathy.

Come on, Trace, not these guys.

“To the beer garden. Wanna join us?” Tyler said.

Violet opened her mouth to say no, but Tracy jumped in. “We would love to.”

So much for the best friend mind meld they always joked about. Disappointment threaded through Violet as she imagined how the rest of the night would go: awkward silence between her and Dean while Tracy and Tyler made out until Tyler asked her to come home with him.

Which pretty much meant Violet's night was going to be a total bust.

Tracy and Tyler fell into step beside each other, talking a mile a minute while Violet and Dean walked behind them. Violet kept glancing his way, hoping he'd say something, but he just stared straight ahead, his face blank.

It was really too bad he was being so standoffish. He really was hot.

Just talk to him. Maybe he's shy.

Violet didn't believe that for a second but tried anyway. “So, what do you do, Dean?”

“I'm a soldier.”

“Like in the army?” It sounded stupid the minute it left her lips, but she couldn't take it back.

“Yes, soldiers are army.” His tone was full of condescension, and Violet's muscles tensed, irritation prickling her skin.

So, Tracy really does have some kind of dick-radar.

“Sorry, just clarifying.”
Why are you apologizing?
“I'm going to school for psychology.”

Dean didn't say anything, and Violet's jaw clenched in frustration. “You're kind of taciturn, aren't you?”

“What's that mean?” he asked.

“Not very talkative,” she said.

“I just don't have a lot to say.”

This is NOT how I planned on spending my evening.

It was the first time in months that Violet hadn't needed to worry about her brother and sister, her classes, or her work schedule. Today was supposed to be about hanging with her best friend and doing something any normal twenty-four-year-old would enjoy.

Which meant she didn't need to tolerate hanging with a jerk who couldn't even make polite conversation. It wasn't like she was asking him to marry her or something. Just a little chitchat while their friends hooked up.

Instead, his attitude was threatening her good mood.

They showed their IDs at the beer garden and entered a large enclosed area with several beer vendors stationed around the perimeter. Tyler led the way to one of the bars and bought them each a beer. Violet took hers but didn't down it the way Tracy did. She didn't drink often and was afraid that if she drank too fast, she might not be walking out of here later.

“So, Tyler, what band are you here to see?” Violet figured it was probably one of the rock bands. They didn't look like the type to enjoy rap music or pop, but at a concert like this, where they had about eight artists from all different genres, it was hard to guess.

“Jimmy Eat World. How about you two?”

“Meghan Trainor,” Violet and Tracy said together, laughing. The mind meld was back, apparently.

“You know, 'cause it's all about that bass.” Tracy shook her ass as she danced around before taking a long pull from her plastic cup.

“I can appreciate that,” Tyler said, his gaze glued to Tracy's ass.

Violet quickly disregarded her good intentions and drank her beer, narrowly avoiding rolling her eyes. If she had to listen to any more Cheese Whiz from Tyler, she was going to need a good buzz. She grimaced as the beer swirled around her taste buds. It was definitely not her drink of choice, especially when it wasn't even cold.

“Ugh, warm beer grosses me out.” Violet spoke to no one in particular, she just couldn't help herself.

“If you don't like the taste of beer, then why drink it?” Dean asked suddenly.

Wow, some genuine interest. Shocking.

Violet glanced at Tyler, who was engrossed in conversation with Tracy. “Because it was free, and it would be rude to waste it.”

She could have sworn his mouth twitched as if he was about to smile, but then it stopped.
Maybe it was a muscle spasm.

“Are you always the epitome of good manners?”

Still a little stung by his previous rudeness, she said, “Indeed I am. Even when people don't show me the same courtesy.”