Faithful to a Fault

Faithful to a Fault

KJ Reed

Sequel to Text Me.

Marine Corps Staff Sergeant Peter Goodwin is on vacation. With no family of his own, he heads out on post-deployment leave to a buddy’s hometown. He expected snow, some relaxation and maybe a willing woman. But he never expected to find a woman like Sarah—someone who makes him think about more than a quick affair.

Sarah has been done with men for years. Ditched in a tiny town by her now-ex, she made the most of her life by standing on her own two feet. Men complicate things. But when one sexy “complication” strolls into town on leave, Sarah figures there’s no harm in a quiet, simple vacation fling. After all, the rules are spelled out from the start. He leaves, she stays.

The passion that sparks between them is a welcome surprise. But Sarah’s more than just a fling—she’s the key to Pete’s best friend’s past. Now Pete has a decision to make, but either choice will hurt someone he cares for.

Chapter One

“How is it that I continually get dragged along with other friends for post-deployment leave?” Pete Goodwin stuffed his carryon in the overhead compartment.

“Because you’re a jackass with nobody to visit on your own?” Anthony Miller asked distractedly as he flipped through the car magazine he’d bought on the layover.

Pete mumbled an incoherent reply and settled down in the seat to buckle his belt. Tony had no clue how close to the mark he was, but Pete wasn’t angry. Not having blood-relations wasn’t a big deal, not anymore. That was the thing about the Corps. Instantaneous family. Someone was always opening their home, inviting you over for holidays or sharing their care package.

He dropped his head back and closed his eyes, aware he could fall asleep even sitting straight up in the uncomfortable airplane seat. Another gift of the Corps, the ability to fall asleep anywhere. To avoid a midday catnap that would leave him more tired than before, he said, “So, give me the rundown of the fam again. I remember your parents from when they came to visit before the last deployment.”

“You’ll see them, of course. My brother is staying at school over break to get ready for finals, so he won’t be there. But Maria, my sister, will be. She’s taking classes at the community college and working at a local bar and grill, so she’ll be around a lot. God, I can’t believe she’s twenty-three now.” He made a face. “I thought when she started dating it was bad. I guess she’s serious about some guy, talking marriage.” He nudged Pete with an elbow. “We might have to make a house call, play up the ‘big, bad Marine brother’ thing to see if he’s worthy.”

Pete chuckled. “Yeah, I’ll be right behind you. Should have warned me earlier, we could have brought our guns.”

Since Tony was drifting off, Pete let his own mind wander. He thought about his best friend Trav, and Ariel, the girl Trav fell hard for a year ago. The couple had sent another email just before he left, giving an update on life. Unfortunately, the private investigator they’d hired to find his younger sister hadn’t made much progress. It was still early to worry though. The guy hadn’t been on the job for long.

But there was good to overshadow that disappointment. Not surprisingly, Trav breezed through the Police Academy and was doing well on the force. Ariel graduated from her master’s program, and so far loved her job working with Child Protective Services.

Pete said a silent prayer for her, knowing firsthand the horrors she’d see on a daily basis. Hopefully that sweet woman wouldn’t burn out quickly.

Jolting out of his thoughts when the plane landed, he stared out the window. Wide-open space greeted him and the suffocation he’d been fighting back for months now evaporated.

This was what he needed. Time away from base, from all things military, just to recharge. A place he could pretend was home, a family he could imagine was his. Even for just a little while.

He loved being a Marine and planned on staying in until they dragged him out of his cammies kicking and screaming. But even the most hardcore devil dog needed a break and a place to relax, to pretend the world wasn’t running on military time and that not every decision was life or death.

They deplaned and made their way through the crowds of people toward baggage claim.

“You packed a coat, right?” Tony asked.

“It’s in my bag, on top, so I can grab it before we head to the car,” Pete replied. Though it was mid-November, in California the weather was still mild enough to not need anything more than a sweater. Had Tony not reminded him to bring his coat before they left, he probably would have been screwed in the Minnesota winter.

As they descended the escalator toward the baggage claim area, they heard shouting. Tony muttered, “Oh, for the love…” and pointed.

There were his parents, shouting his name and waving their hands like they were directing the plane traffic on a tarmac. All that was missing were those orange lights and headphones.

“It’s nice,” Pete murmured. Louder, he said, “Give ‘em a break. It’s the first time they’re seeing you after the last deployment. They’re glad to see your ugly mug is still attached to your worthless body.”

“Yeah, but it’s embarrassing.” Then without another word, he hopped off the bottom step of the escalator and sprinted to his parents, rucksack bouncing on his back, nearly knocking them over as he enveloped them in a hug.

“Embarrassing, huh?” Pete laughed to himself.

He hung back, not wanting to spoil the happy family moment. But he was taken by surprise when Mrs. Miller slipped around her son and came to give him a sweet embrace of her own, whispering, “I’m so glad you’re safe,” in his ear before releasing him. Then Tony’s father stepped in with a handshake and a back slap, thanking him for coming along.

Pete floated through life without a worry, enjoying the lack of familial responsibility, the duty to return home every so often to prove his love. But at that moment, he felt a ball in his throat, keenly aware of what he was missing without a family. He swallowed it down and forced out, “Thanks for having me.”

Mr. Miller tossed an arm around each of them and walked toward the luggage carousel. “Let’s go get your bags, boys and then head out for some good grub. Bet you’re starving.”

* * * * *

Sarah Donovan Cassidy bumped her hip against the cash register and watched it slide shut while she grabbed the next drink ticket. Bartending was never about how to pour a good beer. It was about having an open ear and the ability to multi-task…usually in that order.

Unfortunately she’d been hopeless at both when she first came in, begging for a job. Her worthless, cheating, delusional husband had dumped her and taken off to finish his “rock star tour”. In reality it was one step up from a traveling karaoke group. But at nineteen, Sarah had seen only a hot guy with a guitar and a way out of the state. She’d followed him like a puppy, married him in some courthouse in Ohio and turned a blind eye to his infidelities. First she told herself it was because he was a god with a guitar and it was natural for women to want that. A man’s resistance was only so good.

God, that made her want to vomit now. How could she have ever been so weak? She wised up quickly and told herself to hold on as long as she could to save cash and make it on her own.

“Sarah, can you take this drink order to table seventeen? I’m seriously behind on my chores,” a server asked in passing. Poor guy. Brand new and still five steps behind everyone else. She nodded and began to put the glasses she’d set out for runners onto a tray. Whenever possible, she helped the new servers. She’d been the new kid once too.

Her husband’s band played some open mic night show at Buffalo’s and then ditched her with both the tab at the restaurant and the hotel bill. The debt set her way back in the plan for independence. He’d moved on without her. Sick of having a wife cramp his style, no doubt. She had begged—for the first time in her life—for a job from Buffalo’s manager. For whatever reason, he took pity on her and gave her a shot.

Sarah hefted the tray over her head, using muscles honed from long years on the job. She was agile as a cat now with a drink tray. It made her laugh to think how clumsy she’d been back in the day.

Sarah probably cost the place more in broken glass that first week than she made in tips. But with some kind words and patient regulars, she caught on quickly. Nothing quite like the threat of not eating that week to help the learning process.

She’d been twenty-one when she started working at Buffalo’s and four years later she’d been offered a job as a manager. But she was content as head bartender. More responsibilities weren’t her thing. More responsibility meant staying in one place.

“Sarah, have you seen them?” Maria brushed past the bar and stared out the front window for the umpteenth time that afternoon. Thank goodness it was a slow day or her tables would be waiting forever for service.

“Maria, for the last time, if I see them, I’ll call you from the back,” Sarah said dryly. She could understand Maria’s anxiety. Her brother was coming home for a visit after his last deployment. They were a close family, wrapping anyone nearby in their warmth and love. More than once they had offered Sarah a place to live rather than the small above-garage apartment she rented. But Sarah had been living on her own for too long now. Abiding by parents’ rules—even if they weren’t
her
parents—would never work. Not again.

“Just make sure you do. I can’t wait!” Maria squealed and hustled back to server alley to roll silverware into napkins.

Sarah bit back a smile as she pulled a pint for a table. That sort of family devotion was completely foreign to her. Her own mother left when Sarah was just a child. And though her dad was no prize and Sarah would have left the bastard herself, her mother abandoned two children to the man’s wrath. Her brother Travis had done his best to shield her from the brunt of the man’s condemnation and criticism. But then he, too, left her. Left her to bear the full brunt of her father’s ugliness.

Sure, he went to basic training for the Marines, but he never came back for her. His letters, while good for distraction, didn’t get her out of the hell. And so she stopped responding. Stopped taking his calls.

Years later she regretted that choice. But pride kept her from running back to him when her husband abandoned her. Pride had her pulling up her bootstraps and doing it herself. And she was glad, in the end, that she had. Now she knew what she was capable of.

Anything.

The door opened and a gust of cold air blew in. She glanced up and studied the man walking through.

Maybe six feet, and though his torso was hidden in a winter coat, she could tell he was no slob. A quick glance at his face let her know it wasn’t Maria’s brother, whom she’d seen in pictures.

But he
was
new. At least, she’d never met him before. And tending bar at the most popular place to eat in town meant she knew almost everyone. Sarah took a second look as he walked in and glanced around.

Tanned face, though it was edging on winter. Maybe it was just his complexion, which matched his dark hair and slashing eyebrows. His hair was cut in a flat top. Obviously military, current or prior. Some men never could step away from the habitual haircut.

The man rubbed his bare hands together and blew in them. Then he walked over to the bar and sat down. Flashing her a smile that she judged as genuine, he asked, “Is there a hostess? Or do we just pick our own seat?”

“Looks like you already picked one,” she shot back, then checked her attitude. She struggled with men in general, taking everything the wrong way. Her automatic response was defensive and it had taken her until recently to stop assuming every male was worthless.

If he noticed her snotty response, his face didn’t show it. “The rest of the party is behind me.”

“Well, if you want to grab a table, you’re more than welcome. We’re informal here at this time of day.” In the near-empty restaurant at three in the afternoon, there was no need for a hostess.

He smiled at her, not saying a word. Sarah resisted the urge to check for leftover lunch on her cheek. But then he just stood, bar stool legs scraping on the floor, and headed to a table in a secluded corner. Odd, she would have figured he would take one in front of a TV screen.

She’d snapped for no reason. But he made her… He made her nervous. No, not nervous. Alert. Like some unknown voice was telling her to pay attention to him, there’d be a pop quiz later. When was the last time she’d felt like that? She wanted to watch the stranger a bit longer, but the phone interrupted her. While ringing up the to-go order, another cold blast of air came from the front door. As she hung up the phone and completed the order, she heard the booming voice of her favorite man in the world.

“Sarah Beth! My girl, how are things?”

She couldn’t hold back the grin as she turned to see Mr. Miller, Maria’s father, bundled in the doorway. “Colin! Maria, they’re here!” she called as she walked around the bar to be enveloped in a bear hug, followed by a more gentle—but no less sincere—hug from Maria’s mother, Laura.

Maria skidded around the server wall and hustled past her parents to fling herself at the man walking through the door. He caught her on a laugh and spun her around, knocking into a two-top table nearby before setting her on her feet.

“Hey there, teeny,” he said, warmth in his voice. As Maria whacked him on the arm playfully, he pushed back his coat and scarf and Sarah got a good look at him.

Tall, lean and definitely related to Maria. His dark blond hair was cut much like the stranger’s in the high and tight, showing off his angular face. Smiling eyes caught hers and he held out a hand.

“Tony, nice to meet you.”

“Sarah. Sarah Cassidy.” Though she’d divorced the asshole of an ex years ago, she’d never gotten around to changing her name. “Nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you from your parents.”

She waited for the same reaction as before. The tug of awareness. The hint of urgency.

Nada. Just a friendly smile and a warm handshake.

“I notice you left Maria out of that. God only knows what she told you about me.” He leaned in conspiratorially and mock-whispered, “Only half of it is true.”

“Which half?” she asked.