Holding Out For A Hero: SEALs, Soldiers, Spies, Cops, FBI Agents and Rangers (39 page)

“Listen to him, Jaymee girl,” Bob sneered. “He’s as smooth a talker as that other one. Only this one doesn’t know you’re up to your eyeballs in debt, and there ain’t nothing left for him to steal.”

“Dad, maybe he likes me,” Jaymee lightly suggested, returning Nick’s smile. She took a nibble of the bacon, still looking at his handsome face.

Bob gave a short laugh. “Haven’t you learned? They don’t like you for yourself, they see the business, the money they can get from you! Even I learned that. And at your age, you ain’t going to catch a young stud’s eye that easily, Jaymee girl. Why, your ma…”

Nick cut in. This time, the tone of his voice was no longer pleasant. “I suggest you shut up, old man. Either that, or get back into your booze, so I’d at least have an excuse not to punch the daylights out of you.”

“Nick...” warned Jaymee, hesitantly, shaking her head. This wasn’t going to do any good. She used to argue with her father when he started to act like this. Now she just walked away. After all, what was there to say to a man who suddenly lost his business, wife and health all in a year? “Just eat and let’s go. I’m used to it.”

“No.” He was inflexible. His blue-gray eyes, no longer lazy and amused, glittered as he looked at Bob Barrows. It was time to put an end to this. He studied the old man’s quickened breathing, the light sheen of sweat on his forehead. No better time than when he was still clear-headed.

Jaymee couldn’t see Nick’s expression, but he must have conveyed a strong message to her father, who surprised her by dropping his gaze. Her father, who never backed down, actually looked nervous. She shivered slightly when Nick spoke up again. His voice sounded so cold and lethal, so unlike that warm gravelly drawl she was used to.

“There’s a certain type of man who takes advantage of young girls, isn’t there,” he said to Bob, “the kind that steals their innocence and betrays their trust? You know it, don’t you, old man, being a father and all? You saw how your daughter was tricked. And there’s another type of man, who shirks responsibilities, preferring to blame everyone else but himself. You know that too, don’t you, Barrows?” Being polite, Nick thought, was a waste of time with this man.

Bob slammed his hand on the table, spilling coffee. Jaymee stood up to get a cloth, but was stopped by Nick’s hand. She silently pleaded for him to stop, but he was still staring at her father.

“Don’t let him talk to me like that, Jaymee!”

Jaymee licked her dry lips. In spite of how her father hurt her feelings, she still was concerned for his health. Besides, she would rather not have a family confrontation in front of others. “Nick...”

“No.” Again, he refused her plea, his eyes burning her with their intensity. “I told you yesterday not to let him put you down again. If you won’t do it, I guess I’ll just have to be the one to make the point clear.”

“I can take care of myself,” Jaymee told him, although the look in his eyes was intimidating. She wasn’t used to anyone taking her side. From experience, when others heard about what happened, they commiserated with her father, not her, and of course, excused his drunkenness and behavior. She tugged at Nick’s hand holding hers.

He merely ignored her, turning his attention back to Bob. “Let’s talk about type of daughters now, shall we? There’s the type who can’t wait to leave home to start her own life, isn’t there, Barrows, the one that has a family of her own? And, there’s the type of daughter who doesn’t strand her father with a mountain of debts, choosing instead, to help him back on his feet. Great daughter, don’t you agree, old man?”

The fingers handcuffing her wrist were as implacable as the man. Jaymee didn’t know what to say. She had always chosen to just walk away when her father’s words began to hurt, retreating back to work. There were always reasons to excuse her father’s anger towards her. She had made them all, and accepted each accusation without retaliating. She now realized by not defending herself, she’d made her father worse. It’d never bothered her before, until this man—her lover—took exception to her father’s treatment of her.

“Nick, he’s on medication,” she said quietly.

“If he can’t stand to hear the truth, there’s always booze,” Nick scornfully said. “Deaf and blind. Nice way to live.”

“You don’t know what she did!” Bob’s face was livid with resentment. He looked shocked, unused to being put down by anybody. “I lost everything because of her! Everything!”

“What did she do? Took over your dead business and brought it back to life again? Paid off a house that would have been lost? What exactly have you lost, Bob Barrows? What’s missing but your pride?”

Bob just stared back, stunned. He looked like a bundle of shingles just hit him on the head. Nick calmly finished his cup of coffee and stood up, still holding Jaymee’s hand. Picking up another piece of toast, he walked to the door, with Jaymee in tow.

With a last glance at the silent man at the table, he added, “You just think about it, Barrows. What material things have you lost these last eight years you don’t have now? And who made sure you didn’t lose them? That fancy college education wasn’t such a waste, was it?”

Nick stepped onto the porch and turned to Jaymee, who stood staring up at him with mute amazement. A light smile touched the corners of his lips. “There’s no way I’m going to allow my woman to be treated like that. Now, where are we going to work today, boss?”

Big Bad Wolf: Chapter Eight

Jaymee sat in the garage of the new house, sipping a bottle of cola, during a break from work. Oh boy. She was in much, much more trouble than possible. Nick had taken her truck to get some ceramic tiles to fix a leak later this evening, when it would be cooler. It had been barely an hour and she was already missing him. She massaged the back of her neck, frowning. She sighed. Definitely, absolutely in trouble. She was in love with Nick Langley.

It had warmed her insides to see him defending her so fiercely that morning. No man had ever done that for her. It made her feel special she meant something to this man. But…she still wasn’t sure how to deal with him. She’d been so sure he was merely amusing himself, yet he did these things that confounded her. He was protective. And tender. And caring. She sighed again. The qualities that were so darn attractive.

There were so many things about him she didn’t know although she was piecing the puzzle together little by little. First, he was definitely not on the run. He didn’t strike her as someone who was constantly looking over his shoulder. Second, underneath that potent charm was the alertness of a hunter. After witnessing this morning’s episode with her father, she hadn’t a doubt Nick could take down anyone who was on the wrong side of him. Lastly, he was some kind of electronic expert who spoke legal and political terms with the ease of one educated in related fields. He watched; he played with electronics; he was in top physical condition. She smiled wryly at the last observation. Oh yes, she was very sure about the last fact. If she didn’t know how her imagination tended to be colorful where this man was concerned, she’d make him out to be some sort of military guy, like the Green Beret, or something. She’d read somewhere the Green Berets were electronic experts, could speak several languages, and trained like a machine. Oh yeah, right, Jaymee girl, she mocked, as she took another sip of her cola. Didn’t the same article showed some Green Berets carrying big, wicked-looking Bowie knives? She tried imagining Nick with a green beret and a Bowie knife. Cute. And she was going bonkers.

“I heard old Mindy is having her annual bash tomorrow, boss, is that right?” Dicker broke into her reverie.

“Hmmm? Oh. Yes. Are you going?”

“Maybe. If I’m not fishing or something.”

“Mindy makes the best barbecue, man. I’m going,” Lucky chimed in.

“Yeah, and if I go, I’ll have to shop for a birthday present,” Dicker grumbled, wrinkling his nose. “I ain’t no good with women’s things, man.”

“I would guess the same things your old lady likes, Dicker,” Lucky said, rubbing his beard.

“What, you mean Mindy wants me to paint the fence and buy her some lottery tickets?”

Jaymee laughed, shaking her head. “Now, Dicker, I’m sure you didn’t buy Rosy lottery tickets for her birthday!”

Dicker scratched his neck, looking sheepish. “Sure I did. Ten dollars worth. She was mighty happy coz she won a hundred bucks.”

“Man, you don’t have not one romantical bone in your body.” Lucky puffed out his chest. “I’m going to buy Mindy one of those sweet-smelling perfumes, what is it called — Possession.”

Dicker and Jaymee laughed at the misnamed product. “You mean, Obsession, Lucky,” Jaymee said.

Grinning back at them good-naturedly, Lucky shrugged. “Obsession, Possession, bah! I can name them perfumes way better.”

“And what are you gonna call your perfume?” Dicker wanted to know. “Fish-ion? Shingles?”

They all chuckled. “Roofing Cement Potion,” suggested Jaymee, still laughing.

“Or just plain Sweat,” Dicker bantered.

Lucky assumed a thoughtful air as he continued scratching his beard. “Nah, not sexy enough. I’ll name my perfume Lucky Charms. Yeah, just like me.”

They all hooted, and that was how Nick found them, laughing uproariously in the garage. One of his dark brows arched up. “Not laughing at some of my mistakes, I hope,” he said, putting down a can of roofing cement.

“That’s it! That’s it! Nick’s Mistake!” Lucky thumped an empty box and laughed so hard he fell off the cement block on which he was sitting. He managed to gasp out, “Oh, that would be some foul-smelling perfume.”

“We’ve somehow gotten around to naming Lucky’s new perfume which he’s going to give Mindy tomorrow,” Jaymee explained to the mildly amused and perplexed Nick, smiling up at him. “So far, our top contestants are Roofing Cement Potion, Sweat, and Lucky Charms. Besides Nick’s Mistake, of course.” She didn’t hide her laughter, as she added, “Not that we’re making fun of your work, Nick.”

All three of them went off again. Nick grinned, not minding being the butt of their jokes. It’d been a long time since he was made fun of that way, not since his days training with the army Rangers. Besides, he liked listening to Jaymee’s laugh. She didn’t do it enough.

“Nick is smart, man, he can name a perfume for a woman,” Dicker said, when they stopped for breath. “Unlike Luck-man’s Possession.”

“Sure he can,” agreed Lucky, his gap-toothed smile cheeky. “Remember he knows them big words that got Up-Chuck all flustered.”

“Now that’s what I would name my perfume for my old lady,” cracked Dicker. “All-Flustered. Perfect. What would you name your perfume, Langley?”

Jaymee chewed on her lower lip while the other two men turned expectant eyes at Nick. She knew it hadn’t escaped their notice Nick was wearing her tee-shirt that morning. She didn’t care whether there would be gossip. Enough with living with the fear people would continually bring up Danny. She’d never felt so alive, so comfortable. Looking at the tall man who had changed her outlook so much, she couldn’t even remember much about her old feelings for Danny.

There was simply no comparison.

She was also glad he was getting along with her workers. Dicker and Lucky now included him in their daily chats, and she liked the way Nick mixed with them so easily. Right now, his eyes were half-closed as he considered Dicker’s question about naming, of all things, a perfume. It struck her he just wasn’t the type of man who would sit around a bunch of guys playing name games. Again she had the odd feeling he was hiding something.

“I don’t know. You guys have chosen all the good ones,” he joked. Leaning over, he picked up Jaymee’s cola and finished it off. She stared at him in fascination. Wiping his lips with the back of his hand, he continued, “I supposed Smartass is out of the question? Or, Scary Screamer? Or Maniac?”

The other men chuckled, as if sharing some in-joke. Jaymee rolled her eyes, then stuck her tongue out at Nick. She would bide her time to punish smart-mouthiness. She was the boss, after all.

***

“Don’t feel so smart now, do you, Mr. Big Words?” Jaymee mocked Nick later that day. She’d left Dicker and Lucky at the job, taking him with her to fix the leak in the tile roof. At the moment, she stood with perfect balance, each foot planted on a ceramic tile, hands on her hips. She looked smugly at Nick, feeling slightly avenged for the knowing chuckles her men had given when he named his perfume. Tease her, would he? Well, let’s see how he felt being at the other end.

Nick concentrated on first making sure he didn’t slip. The ceramic tiles weren’t slippery, but because of their inverted ‘S’ shape, his big feet couldn’t fit on the dented part of the tile, like Jaymee’s did, and so he had to put his weight awkwardly on the rounded curve.

Crrrunch.

A crack line appeared under his foot. Wincing, he put his other foot down. Another crunching sound.

Normally, Jaymee would have given any employee the proper tongue-lashing, but the sight of the big man gingerly trying to walk toward her was almost worth the money she was going to lose, at the rate he was breaking the tiles. She just stood there, a big grin on her face.

“I’m going to take all the damage out of your paycheck tonight, if you don’t stop breaking them,” she warned sternly, but her mischievous smile gave her away.

“It’s like walking on eggs,” muttered Nick, when he reached her.

“You’re lucky I had you pick up those extra tiles this afternoon, or we’d have some missing pieces, what with those big feet of yours!”

Nick grinned. “OK, so I made it up here. Now what?”

Jaymee cocked her head. “Ever made love on a ceramic tile roof before?”

He groaned. “No, and I’m not going to start now.” He watched Jaymee turn around and nimbly walk up a few rows higher. Her butt was at eye level. He groaned again. “OK, we’ll do it.”

“Not if you can’t catch me,” she teased, squatting down and loosening one of the tiles. She pulled a few out of the way, and said, “Here, you can stand more comfortably on the fern strips below the tiles.”

Nick did as she suggested.