Wildcard (6 page)

Leaning over, he kissed her softly on the forehead, then turned to go. In the doorway, he lingered for a moment longer before backing out. He shut the door softly so the lock didn’t clunk shut and wake her.

Outside, he hung onto the latch for a moment, waiting in case she’d heard him leave and raced to stop him. The last time he’d lost a woman, she’d left him while he was deployed overseas. This was the first time he’d had to part with someone here stateside. He didn’t really care for either feeling. It sucked no matter how you cut it.

He spread his fingers out on the painted wood door. Such a simple thing and yet a huge gulf that separated him from what he wanted—to open that door and curl up with her until morning.

“When I get back, darlin’…” he whispered into the night air, a soft promise to the woman he’d left sleeping in the bed. A chance encounter that seemed to have changed something deep inside him.
If
he came back. He’d always known that wasn’t a guarantee. Not in the unit. Not for a man branded by the Army.

“You and me, darlin’. Don’t go anywhere, because I’m coming back for you.”

He drove his beat-up truck out of the base, and into town. The seats were hot from the glare of the sun. It reminded him of the weather overseas, like a piece of beef jerky curing over heat.

He looked up and saw not a cloud in the sky. Reaching over, he turned the radio on and set it to the local rock channel. As the music flooded his ears, it triggered memories of convoys and dismounted patrols. He shook the thought from his mind and focused on why he’d left the base to begin with. The grocery list in his pocket had various items on it that he wanted to get for his new place. Six months downtime and this time, he was going to do more than get drunk and chase the local women. He had a healthy interest in one particular woman.

He parked his truck and turned it off. Coughing and spluttering, the engine rattled to a halt. The door opened with a groan, the hinges well past their prime. He hopped out and patted the trusty old thing a couple times on its quarter panel the way a cowboy would his horse.

“Right then…let’s see…” He took the list from his pocket and gave it a once over. “Milk…bread…cheese…lunch meat…”

He rubbed at his jaw, stubble prickling his fingers, and studied the main street through town. With such a small place, the options for grocery shopping were limited. Pretty much the only place was the store across the street. Shoving the list in his pocket, Michael headed that way.

“C’mon babe, you know I didn’t mean all that. We were meant to be together.”

He slowed his pace as a guy backpedaled out of the open door, his tone wheedling as he tried to placate someone still inside. Irritation flashed through him. He didn’t care what this guy’s troubles were, Mikey just wanted him to move along quickly so he could do his shopping.

His lips quirked. Mikey. He’d been thinking of himself that way since Jasmine.

He folded his arms as Tweedle-dee continued his reverse march out of the store. He rolled his eyes in disgust. Some men just didn’t get it at all. When you’re in a rear march out of a public place… Yeah, you’d lost the war already. He sighed for a moment as the guy tried to stand his ground and was shoved back by a feminine hand square in his chest.

“Hey, don’t be like that babe, c’mon…”

The guy was giving the innocent and loving act one last shot. Mike’d seen this kind of thing go down before. It usually ended badly.

“Man, I don’t have time for this shit…” He stood to one side to let the lovebirds resolve their differences. A couple of minutes later he’d finally had enough and approached the guy.

“Look pal, move your ass. This isn’t Times Square.”

The guy, tall and blonde, but with a softness around his frame that told the tale of too much time behind a desk, and too many good lunches, shot him a look full of hatred. “Fuck off and mind your own business, pal.”

He turned back to his unseen companion and reached out. “Here, let me help you with that, babe.”

There was a tart, but muffled reply. Mike could only make a little of it out, but it sounded like the guy had just been told to shove that “babe” where the sun didn’t shine. He hid his smirk. Sounded like this jerk’s woman had more than enough backbone. It didn’t have any effect on the guy though, and a minor struggle ensued over a brown bag of groceries. Which promptly tore.

“Julian! Would you just fuck off and die?!”

Michael tried to place the voice as fruit and vegetables escaped the confines of the bag and hit the pavement. A petite woman shot out of the door, crouching to pick the dropped items up while Julian just stood by. He pouted, looking down at the mess as though it had nothing to do with him. Michael had the feeling he was the sort of guy who expected everything done for him. Mama’s boy, no doubt.

“Look guy, why don’t ya just call it a loss and pack in for the day. Clearly she doesn’t want what you’re selling.”

He stepped around the woman, putting himself between them. One swift visual sizing was all it took to convince him that this guy was nothing but soft office trash. The kind of scum found in a law firm, or an accounting company.

“Why haven’t you gone and fucked off yet?”

Michael snorted in amusement. “Really? That’s the best you could come up with? Seriously, go grow a pair, and then we’ll continue this.”

He turned his back on the guy, and moved to stoop down to help the woman with her groceries. He didn’t get that far. Movement out of the corner of his eye warned him of the foot heading toward his ribcage.

There was a small—very small—part of Mike that felt a tinge of guilt but that was quickly overridden by his training and experience. He was just back from deployment and life just felt…off. Like he didn’t fit here yet. The threat of violence though, that was something he knew how to deal with.

He turned and caught the man’s foot against his biceps, then twisted his ankle and slammed a hand down on his thigh. The swift move forced Julian off balance. A leg sweep took out his support leg, and Mr. Bigshot was on his ass in a matter of seconds.

Michael stepped back and fought for control as he forced his training to stand down. That was the trouble with most guys, him included, when they got back from deployment. The desire to seek out copious amounts of alcohol, sex, and violence was paramount. That, he was dealing with here; alcohol he’d get tonight, and the sex he’d deal with when he tracked down Jasmine.

Idiot. You could at least have remembered her last name. Would have made things
So
much easier.

Holding his ground firmly between Julian and the woman behind him, Michael eyed him with contempt. “Why don’cha go back to your office and find someone else to hassle. Dumbass.”

Julian spluttered, his face red with rage as he scuttled backward. He looked past Mike at the woman. “Don’t think this is over, Jas. You’re still my wife!”

A tired sigh sounded behind him as she stepped around Mike. “Julian, the divorce was finalized months ago. Now quit bothering me, or I’ll get a restraining order.”

The voice was familiar, as was the tumbled mass of dark curls. Then her scent hit him. Evocative and unforgettable, it was branded in his memory along with every other moment of that night three months ago. He blinked, not quite believing the woman he’d been looking for had appeared, as though merely thinking of her had been enough. Relief and pleasure flooded through him until he remembered the situation he’d inadvertently walked into.

“Jasmine?” He glanced at Julian, then back to Jas again. She’d said she was a divorcee… “Wait…this guy is…?”

She slid him a sideways glance, but the expression on her face told him she wasn’t really seeing him. Instead it said,
butt out buddy, I can handle this
.

He rubbed his head for a moment. She didn’t recognize him? He’d been gone for a few months, but he didn’t think it was that easy to forget people. Not after what they’d shared.

“It’s uh…me. Mike. From the bar?” he asked as though it had only happened yesterday. In a sense, for him it had. When deployed it was like he put his other life on pause and was only living his soldier’s life. But now that he was back, he was finding everything else had moved on and left him in its wake. Again.

“You’ll need me in six months, Jasmine. Think about it.” Julian stalked to a nearby car and yanked the door open. With a final venomous look at Mike, he climbed in and drove off.

“Yeah. I need you like I need a freaking hole in the head,” she muttered as Julian’s car sped out of view. Then she turned to Michael, brown bag in her arms.

She was just the same as he remembered. The same masses of dark hair, piled on top of her head today, and she wasn’t wearing any make-up. She didn’t need any. She had an inner beauty that shone through. It took him a moment to notice the tiredness in her eyes and the dark circles under her eyes that said she hadn’t been sleeping well.

“Yeah, I remember. Hold this for me, would you?”

Her voice was calm, no nonsense, as she handed him the bag. Automatically he took it, not expecting what came next. While he had his hands full, she pulled back her fist and punched him across the jaw.

“Oww!” She backed up, waving the hand she’d hit him with in the air with a look of pain on her face. “What the hell? That
hurt!”

“Umm… Sorry?”

He couldn’t believe he was apologizing for her hurting herself when she’d hit
him
. He couldn’t help it though, something about her brought out the protective side in him. Shifting the bag into his left arm, he reached out for her hand. Making a fist with it tenderly, he ran an index finger along her knuckles.

“Hit with that part. It’ll hurt less next time. Are you going to be ok?” he asked with a tilt of his head toward where Julian’s car had been earlier.

He hadn’t expected to run into her like this. He was hoping to save it for something a little more substantial. Run into her out on the town, with Dutch courage inside him and a boatload of explanations worked out as to why she should give him a chance. Another hand he’d been forced to play early.

“Oh, I’ll be just fine. That creep comes anywhere near me I’ll have an injunction on him so fast his eyes’ll rattle.”

She held out her hands for the bag, and as she did, the movement pulled her loose top tighter around her figure. Mike froze, Julian’s parting words replayed in his head as he clocked the slight rounding that hadn’t been there before. Nine months. Baby. She was pregnant.

“Jasmine. Are you…? You’re…?”

Unable to say the words, his gaze fixed on her abdomen as she took the bag back from him. Jealousy took his breath away but he schooled his expression. He’d been gone less than three months, and already she’d found someone else? Damn, it sucked to be him. Not only forgotten, but replaced

“Do you need any help?” His mind was now completely off Julian, as though the other guy didn’t exist. All he could think about was what had happened while he was gone.

“Ummm… Sorry, I was gone.”

She arched an eyebrow as she balanced the bag. “Sorry? You’re sorry? You disappear without so much as saying goodbye, then waltz back three and a half months later with a sorry? And yes. I am—” she paused for a moment, a flush building on her cheeks. She collected herself and speared him with a hard look. “I am pregnant, and no, I don’t need any help. Thank you.”

With that, she turned on her heel and walked away. He sighed softly as she left him standing there. Going after her would make him no better than Julian. She had every right to be angry with him. He ran a hand along his hair…well, stubble was a more accurate term for it since he wore it high and tight…and followed anyway.

“I didn’t have a chance. I was ordered to ship that night. I wanted to tell you, but there wasn’t any time. I know I should have…it’s what you deserved. At the time it was all I could give.”

Even with her pregnancy, she was tiny, and so delicate it made his teeth ache. Fire roared through his veins, his instincts insisting he demand to know if he hadn’t been good enough. Demand to know why she’d gone to someone else while he was gone.

He came down to earth with a bump. He hadn’t left a note asking her to wait. In fact, he hadn’t left a note at all. How was she to know he’d planned to come back…telepathy? All evidence pointed to the fact he’d gotten what he wanted, and moved on.

He gritted his teeth. So, apparently, had she. Back to Julian, at least for a while if her belly was any indication. From what he’d seen, there was not only trouble in paradise; the place had been nuked flat. Perhaps there was a chance for them? Hope filled him.

He fought the urge to grab her and persuade her to listen. That would make him like Julian though, standing there pleading until some other guy approached from the side to tell him to butt out.

“Wait…please…”

She stopped by a small family car and propped the bag on the hood as she fished in her purse for her keys. The bag started to topple over. Without thinking, he was there, sliding in beside her to grab the wayward groceries. Her delicate scent reached out, wound around him, and tightened like the leash on a dog. If he’d had plans on going anywhere, he sure as hell didn’t now.

“Thank you.”

She didn’t look at him as she pulled the keys free, and left holding the bag, he felt kind of dumb. He’d never been put in a situation like this before. Not knowing what to say or what to do. He wasn’t trained for this. Where was the field manual for it? He leaned over the car to try and catch sight of her. For every inch he took, she retreated one inch more.

“How come you won’t look at me? You know…this isn’t quite how I wanted this to go.” He tried to cover the hurt in his voice. “On the plane I told myself I’d call and then we’d maybe go have lunch, and see what happened from there. But…I didn’t count on you being mad at me. Stupid I guess.”

She pushed the keys into the lock and twisted, opening the door before she looked at him. “What did you expect, Michael? We spent a night together, and you left before I woke up. That told me all I needed to know.”

The guarded look on her face tore at him. As though she’d been let down all her life, and just as she’d trusted someone again—him—she’d been let down again.

His expression twisted a little with pain. “I was called away…a mission came up. I didn’t want to bother you with it. The last time I told someone I had to leave… Never mind, that’s not important.” He cut the rest of the sentence off and scuffed in the dirt with his foot as he tried to sound nonchalant. Nothing could be further from the truth.