Healing Pleasure (4 page)

Which would require another trip up those fucking stairs. The urge to stay up there once he reached the top was far too tempting. The knowledge that, if he tried to pull that May would eventually come up there and drag him back down by his ears, would keep him from giving in.

May patted his cheek. “It’ll be good for you, son, and, maybe, after you’ve had some time outside with your thoughts, you’ll be ready to talk about them.”

A lump formed in his throat, making it hard to swallow and even more difficult to speak. He held her gaze, a woman who had taken him into not only her home, but her heart, when he had been thirteen without a soul to care for him, and couldn’t find the words to tell her how much she meant to him, let alone how to explain the sorrow chipping away at his mind.

“I’ll try.” It was all he could manage to say, all he could promise, but it was enough for her for now.

Her eyes glimmered with tears he prayed she wouldn’t let fall as a soft smile spread her lips. “I know you will, son. You’ve never let anything get you down for long.”

* * * *

“Incoming call from Dad.”

Lena smiled at the computerized voice that flowed from her cell phone through her Bluetooth and pushed the button to answer the call. “It’s about time you got back to me,” she teased. She’d called her father that morning, half expecting to wake him up since she knew he’d worked the late shift at the hospital last night. She’d gotten his voice mail instead.

“I’m sorry, Duchess. My relief had a heart attack just before his shift was supposed to start. I ended up staying to cover half of it so his relief didn’t have to work a full double.”

“Is he going to be okay?”

“We believe so. It was a mild one and his test results are coming back good now. Apparently, it was brought on by too much stress.”

Lena smiled. “Imagine that.”

Her father chuckled. “Yeah, imagine that. So, you’re standing me up for our weekly lunch date, huh?”

She grimaced. “Sorry, Daddy.” In the years since they’d started going to lunch every week on Friday, she could count on one hand how many times one of them had canceled the date. “I have a potential client. I’m actually on the road now to see him.”

“I take it this client isn’t in town?”

“He lives in Pleasure. A place called Rescue Ranch.”

“I’ve heard of it, though only through the grapevine, so to speak. It’s a ranch owned by a couple—well, I believe it used to be a trio, or whatever you call them—who takes in troubled boys.”

“Well, this client is troubled, but he’s not a boy any longer. He’s a Navy SEAL. He’s home on medical leave. I don’t know much about the mission he was on, but it’s my understanding it didn’t have a good outcome. From what his friend told me—he’s the one I spoke with, by the way—the client is suffering with PTSD along with trying to recover from a torn ACL and damaged cartilage.”

“I’m assuming he’s already been through surgery.”

Lena nodded, though she knew her father couldn’t see it. “He has. According to his friend, the surgery went off without a hitch. My question for you is how successful is that kind of surgery and what the recovery process?”

Her father blew a breath through the phone. “The surgery has a good success rate. He’s likely looking at about nine months of recovery, exercises and strength training, before he’ll regain full use of the knee. After that, he could experience some lingering pain, but nothing truly detrimental.”

“In other words, he should be able to return to his job after he fully heals.”

“That’s going to be up to him and his mind. If he’s suffering from PTSD like you say and this injury occurred in battle, he may not be able to mentally get past the pain he’s feeling to physically perform the way he did before the accident.”

“I think that’s what his friend is afraid of. He was there, too. This guy’s friend. He’s also a SEAL, though he wasn’t on the front line like the client was.”

“It sounds to me like what you’re saying is you have two potential clients you’re going to see.”

Lena smiled, loving the bond she had with her father that enabled them to communicate so well. It hadn’t always been this way, but she supposed she should be grateful for that. If not for her depression over her mother’s abandonment and the loss of Mark, neither she nor he would’ve ever met Barbara and she wouldn’t have found her calling in life. She’d struggled through years of depression, barely making it through high school, and then fell even deeper when she’d lost Mark.

Not knowing how to help her, her father had found Barbara, a grief counselor who worked for the hospital, and talked Lena into making an appointment with her. Less than a year later, after countless hours of baring her soul to the only woman who had ever been able to get through to her, her father and Barbara had sparked a relationship that had then turned into a marriage.

“I got that impression during my meeting with the friend, though he might be more reluctant than the SEAL I’m supposed to be seeing.”

“Men who go through what they do will have more than a few invisible scars, Duchess.”

Lena sighed. “I know and, honestly, I’m not sure I’ll be able to give either of them the help they need.”

“Well, if you need advice on how to handle it, you know Barbara is always here for you, too.”

Emotions twisted around her heart. “I know.”

Her father hesitated for so long, she thought for a moment they might have lost signal. “Pleasure, you realize what kind of town that is, don’t you?”

Lena rolled her eyes, glad now that her father couldn’t see her. “Men outnumber women three to one. Most of the relationships in Pleasure are ménage and it’s openly accepted for people to live that way. Yes, Dad, I know.”

“And you’re headed to a ranch that gives a home to troubled boys, two of whom are SEALs who are apparently your age.”

This time, she suppressed a giggle. “Actually, I think they’re a couple of years younger than me.”

“That’s not the point, Duchess.”

No, but his first statement had raised an interesting question in her mind. “How do you feel about people who live that way, Dad?”

“To each their own, as the saying goes.” His answer came quick enough that she didn’t doubt the sincerity of it. “I wouldn’t share Barbara with another man, but I don’t hold anything against those who chose to do such a thing.” He waited a beat and then added, “And, no, sweetheart, I wouldn’t hold it against you either if you fell in love with these two SEALs.”

Lena was so shocked she nearly drove off the country road. “Dad!”

He chuckled. “I just wanted to make sure you understood.”

“There’s no need to make sure I understand that. Engaging in a relationship with a client is strictly taboo.”

“Your stepmother married me.”

“You weren’t her client. I was.”

“Touché.”

“To be fair, engaging in a relationship with the father of a client is strictly taboo, too.” Barbara shrugged. “Despite that, I couldn’t help myself. I looked at your father and
client
, or anything remotely close, was the last word that came to mind. That doesn’t make you any less professional or good at what you do. It merely makes you human.” Her lips stretched in a knowing smile. “And something is telling me the last thing you thought about when you met these men was about one or both of them being your client.”

It hadn’t been the last thing, Lena wanted to argue. She’d mulled over it, had known she needed to keep a professional distance, and had let them blow every bit of willpower she possessed to smithereens from the very start all because she’d wanted them.

“All we’re saying, sweetheart, is we think it’s past time for you to move on and, if that means you move on with two men, then Barbara and I will fully support your decision.”

“Thanks.” She frowned and then added, “I think. Listen, Dad, I’m getting closer to my destination. I’ll make up lunch to you next week. We’ll go to Sweet Basil.” She hated Thai cuisine, but he loved it.

“It’s a deal. I love you, baby.”

“I love you, too.” She pushed the button on her Bluetooth to disconnect the call and studied the windy road ahead. She figured she had another two or three miles before she reached Rescue Ranch, but the scenery was too beautiful to be ignored.

Thick trees lined the road on either side for as far as she could see. She hadn’t noticed how far she’d gone since she’d last seen any signs of civilization. Not that she’d been paying much attention when she’d been on the phone. She had noted the small motel as she’d driven through town. There was no way she’d consider taking Trey up on his offer—
more like order
—to stay on Rescue Ranch the whole weekend no matter how many spare rooms it had. Still, she might consider booking a motel room for a night or two.

A few minutes and lots of trees later, she spotted her first glimpse of a driveway up ahead. Slowing her speed, she gripped the steering wheel with both hands as she leaned forward to peer out the windshield. A wrought-iron sign formed an archway over the pebbled driveway with the words Rescue Ranch intricately spelled out in the center. She made the turn and realized it was more like another road than a driveway. If not for the sign, she wouldn’t have had any indication she was on the right path.

“Jeez, talk about living in the boondocks,” she muttered as she continued to drive, tightening her grip on the wheel as the tires attempted to slide on the pebbles.

A curve came into view, bringing with it signs of civilization. The trees parted to fencing lining either side and wide-open pastures beyond. She spotted several horses grazing in the field to her left and felt herself smile at their beauty.

Dragging her attention back to the road, she finally saw what had to be the ranch house. An elaborate structure standing three stories tall, it stretched wide on either side of the end of the road. She slowed the car to a crawl as it crept forward, taking in the long porch that spanned the full length of the house, the assortment of rocking chairs and swings that seemed to be patiently waiting for warm bodies to fill them, and the array of windows standing open to let in the fresh air.

A welcoming sensation swept through her as she brought her car to a stop behind the only truck in the drive. Snagging her shoulder bag from the passenger seat, she tossed her keys inside and slowly got out of the car. She’d attempted to phone Trey before she left the city to let him know she was headed out, but only managed to reach his voice mail. As if on cue, the cartoon melody of Scooby Doo chimed from her purse as she quietly closed the car door.

She pulled the phone from her bag, glanced at the caller id on the screen, and answered the call via her Bluetooth. “Perfect timing,” she said in lieu of hello. “I just pulled up out front. Where are you?”

“In the back pastures.” The sound of Trey’s lazy, rusty drawl sent remembered shivers of desire down her spine. “The front door of main house is open. Go on in. May’s probably working in the kitchen. I’ll meet you there.”

“And Brit?” He was the man she’d come here to see, after all. She glanced at the truck in the driveway as she passed it, noting the logo painted on the door that matched the one she’d seen on the wrought iron sign that had led her here. Her gaze slid over the hood as she reached the front of the truck and movement a short distance away caught her attention. “Never mind. I’m betting I just found him.”

She stopped where she stood and surveyed the sight. Christ on a pogo stick! Though she could only see the side profile of the man on the treadmill, it was enough to have her IQ dropping into the single digits. Ratty tennis shoes and bare powerful looking legs kept a steady pace despite the brace on his left knee. Khaki cargo shorts hung on his lean hips and led to a bare torso glistening with a sheen of sweat. The man’s body gave new meaning to sculpted perfection. Corded muscles, fine ridges, and etched lines accented by flesh that spent a lot of time in the sun made her head feel a bit woozy.

“If it’s a guy with a knee brace working out in the front yard, then, yeah, you found Brit.”

Trey’s voice ripped her from her admiring assessment of the man before she started to drool. Thank God. “Is there a particular reason there is a treadmill and a weight bench out here?”

Trey chuckled. “Yeah, Horace had a few of us move the stuff outside this morning. The only thing Brit is holding fast to is his exercises. Horace figured, since nothing else has been getting him out of the house, putting his equipment outside would do the trick.”

Lena giggled. “Interesting reasoning and apparently it worked.”

“I’m in the middle of something here. As soon as I finish up, I’ll come to the house.”

“Take your time.”
Please, take your time.
The last thing she needed right now was a double whammy of innate sex appeal. “I’ll go introduce myself.”

She ended the call before he could say anything else, pulled the Bluetooth from her ear, and shoved it in her shoulder bag as she rounded the front of the truck. The movement must have caught Brit’s attention because he turned his head toward her. His gaze slammed into hers, the look in his dark eyes intense enough to make her step falter as spasms of lust ricocheted through her insides.

He pushed a control button on the treadmill and slowed his step with the machine as it came to a stop. His gaze fell from hers and he gave her a full once-over that turned her blood to a flaming flow of wicked need as he pulled the earbuds from his ears. Then he dragged his gaze back to hers and pinned her with a stare that put in her mind a vision of sweaty bodies and rumpled sheets.