Only Love Page 26

  Jed pulled her into a tight hug. “Thank you,” he said into her hair. “Will you stay with him?”

  Carla kissed his cheek. “Of course, just don’t go dying in the night or anything fucktardy like that, okay? We all love you too much to go through that again.”

  Day Seven

  JED,

  Feels weird to be writing this from the waiting room when you’re a few feet away, but that’s how it goes.

  I don’t remember much about waking up in Louisiana, but I recall being all kinds of surprised to hear my mama talking at me in one ear and some Army doc in the other. That shit didn’t add up, and scared me wrong for a while, so we figured we’d give you some space.

  I’m flying home today, but Glenn’s staying put. He’s gonna stay right there while you get better.

  Now, don’t go grumbling your shit and digging your heels into the ground. I know what it’s like to wake up one day and not have clue who you are, or how you got to be that way. You wanna cry one minute and kill a man the next, right? Then you laugh like a crazy dude and just for a moment, it all goes away.

  It sucks, man, and it threw me until Glenn set me straight. I know he’s a smartass, but listen to him on this. He’s older and uglier than all of us, and he can help.

  I don’t know jack about what’s going on inside that belly of yours, but the head stuff? It will come right in the end. You just gotta give it some time.

  My number is on the back of this (least, I think it’s mine). Call me if you ever head south. You know my mama’s always got a bed for you.

  One love,

  Luke

  Day Eight

  TAP, TAP, tap, tap.

  It was like a lullaby.

  Tap, tap, tap, tap.

  Except Jed didn’t want to sleep anymore. Nah, he wanted to follow the sound, find the fingertips and the beautifully rough hands, scale the lean, muscled arms, and kiss the full lips he found at the summit.

  He settled for opening his eyes.

  Max leaped from his perch at the foot of the bed like a cat. Jed mourned the loss of warmth from his legs, but only for a moment. Then Max’s face was so close to his, and nothing else mattered. Jed reached out an IV-entangled hand, hooked it around Max’s neck and kissed him.

  The kiss was warm and sweet. Max pulled away with a smile that felt like the sun to Jed’s weary mind. “Are you really awake? You’ve had me fooled a few times today.”

  “I’m awake.”

  Max kissed him once more. “Good. I missed you.”

  “What time is it?”

  “A little after five.” Max pushed a mug of tea into his hands. “I got here a while ago, but Vera said you’ve been asleep most of the day.”

  “Vera?”

  Max shot him an amused look. “Your personal nurse? The old dear who leads your fan club and takes care of you every day?”

  Jed was mystified. Nurses came and went with such frequency, he rarely noticed them. He took a sip of the tea and set it down. Max narrowed his eyes infinitesimally. Jed raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Chill, I’m gonna drink it. Help me up?”

  Max took his arm and helped him sit upright without the aid of the bed. Jed swung his legs over the edge. He’d been up and about for a day or two now, shuffling to the bathroom and back, but it still took him a moment to get going. He spied the paper bag Max had left on the chair by the door. “What else you got?”

  “Sandwiches. Want one?”

  “Can we eat them outside?”

  Max blinked. Clearly, he’d expected a flat out no. “Outside? You mean, like, outside outside?

  Jed glanced at the window. Dusk was fast drawing in, but it was dry. He detached his IVs, tossed the ever present oxygen tubes aside, and lowered his feet to the floor. “Yep.”

  Max steadied him with an exasperated sigh. “You’re going to escape no matter what I say, aren’t you?”

  “Probably.” Jed looked around for a sweatshirt. “And Dan is much easier to push around than you. I could probably get him to take me to Seattle and back.”

  In answer, Max took his own jacket off and handed it over. Jed put it on while Max retrieved his sneakers from where they seemed to be stashed under the bed.

  “You hid my shoes under the bed?”

  Max rolled his eyes. “You’re not as spontaneous as you think. I figured you were bound to make a bid for freedom eventually.”

  Jed laughed. The sound surprised him, Max too, and it was a telling sign of how long it had been. “And you thought a lack of appropriate footwear would stop me?”

  Max stepped closer. He fiddled with the zip on his hoodie and pulled it halfway up Jed’s chest. “No, I just thought it might slow you down enough to wait for me.”

  Jed stared at him, taking in his newly shaved head and bright, well-rested eyes. They’d both turned a corner over the past few days, and he couldn’t bear to see the light in Max dimmed by even a trace of self-doubt.

  He pulled Max closer and pressed his forehead to his. “I’ll always wait for you.”

  Day Ten

  JED WATCHED the familiar scenery fly by. Beside him, Glenn kept his eyes on the road, but a faint smile played at his lips.

  “What are you grinning about?”

  Glenn shrugged. “Nothing, just thinking about your boy’s face when he finds out you broke out of the asylum.”

  “I didn’t break out. I signed out, and anyway, he’ll know it was your idea. I told him you were trouble.”

  It was true. Max seemed quite taken with Glenn, so it was only fair to warn him the old dude was a damn anarchist. A fair warning, given that Glenn had spent five minutes in his hospital room before he’d passed Jed his shoes.

  “Fuck this,” he’d said. “I’m taking you home.”

  Glenn snorted, but said no more, and despite the fact that the brief conversation was the first real words they’d shared in months, the silence that settled over them was easy and light.

  His friendship with Glenn had always been that way. Each and every time they found themselves back together, they simply picked up where they’d left off as though nothing had happened.

  Of course, this time was different. They’d come through loss, tragedy, and brutal violence before, but not on the same scale as what happened in Kirkuk, and the moment Glenn stepped into his room after days and days of mysterious absence, Jed knew they had a mountain to climb before they could overcome what they’d both been through.

  Responsibility—that was the problem, and it was something they both wore like a noose. Jed would never get over the guilt of having his team obliterated under his watch, and Glenn, despite all he’d done to save so many, would never get over the aftermath.

  “I like your boy.”

  Jed tore his eyes from the window. “Hmm?”

  “Max,” Glenn clarified, as though there was any doubt. “He’s a cool kid.”

  “He’s not a kid.”

  “I’m forty-two. Anyone under thirty is a kid to me.”

  Jed let that one go. Forty-two Glenn might have been, but he didn’t look a day over thirty-five. “How long are you staying?”

  “As long as you need me. I know you probably feel like that won’t be all that long, but you gotta be realistic, J. You’ve been through the wringer. It’s going to take you time to come back.”

  Jed heaved a silent sigh, all too aware that he had a rough few months ahead of him. “Don’t put your life on hold for me. I’m going to be sick whether you’re here or not.”

  “Still the charmer, huh?” Glenn deadpanned, but his expression remained serious. “I’m not doing it for you. How do you think I’d feel if I left Max to deal with you by himself? The kid deserves better than that. You both do. Besides, I’m officially over the hill. My life is my own for the first time in twenty-four years. I can do whatever I like.”

  Jed was still coming to terms with the end of Glenn’s military career. In many ways, he’d found it harder to take than the end of his own, but Glenn�
�s choice of words stirred something in Jed.

  Max deserves better.

  Glenn eased the truck to a stop as the thought crossed Jed’s mind, but the passenger door was wrenched open before he could process that he was finally home.

  Max shook his head, his smile a mile wide. “Do I even want to know?”

  Jed shook his head as Glenn slid discreetly from the truck and disappeared into the night. “Probably not.”

  Max helped Jed from the truck, shut the door, and leaned him back against it. He stared hard at Jed for moment, as though debating whether he was real.

  Jed touched his face. “Hey, Max?”

  “Yeah?”

  “It’s good to be home.”

  Epilogue

  September 2007

  Ashton, OR

  MAX SET down the sander, lifted his goggles, and wiped his brow. The air was thick and muggy, heavy with sawdust and a brewing late-summer storm.

  He tossed the goggles aside and drifted to the boat shed’s open door. In her shady corner, Flo raised her head, but didn’t follow. The oppressive heat had made her lazy. “Don’t worry, girl, I’ll take you for a swim later.”

  The collie flicked her tail in response and returned to her doze. Max stared out over the water. Behind him the cabin lay silent and still, the yard too, empty but for the pottering, pecking hens. To an outside observer, the place appeared deserted, but Max knew better. With two retired soldiers and two extra dogs for company, he was far from alone.

  Trouble was, Jed’s friends, Raffi and Luke, went about their business with barely a sound. Between them, they were even quieter than Jed, and from time to time, Max forgot they were there.

  Not today, though. A closer sweep of the yard revealed Raffi alone by the water’s edge, sparring with himself in a game Max had yet to figure out. In fact, he’d yet to figure out the quiet, pint-sized Latino man at all, he said so little. Still, Raffi cooked a mean curry, and Belle and Tess adored him. That was enough for Max, and aside from Glenn, Raffi was probably his favorite of Jed’s old Army crew.

  He’d met them all at some point or other over the past six months; all but Pat, who was the only one to return to active duty after that dreadful day in Kirkuk. They were a motley bunch: Luke with his lost hearing. Beau with his prosthetic leg. All unique and different, but united in a bond no outsider would ever understand.

  Max cast his gaze closer to the shore, searching for his other live-in babysitter. He found Luke dozing in a shaded spot by the greenhouse, Saja and Jed’s dog, Desta, settled by his side.

  Yeah, Jed’s dog: Max’s own solution to a worry that had plagued Jed’s recovery… the worry that when the storm cleared and everyone went home, their combined life-changing illnesses would destroy them before they’d even begun.

  Bringing Desta home had made perfect sense to Max. Flo had given him his life back, his independence and freedom, and a set of proverbial balls when he was too scared to get out of bed. Why not Jed? Flo couldn’t watch over the both of them, as hard as she tried. Getting another dog had been a no-brainer.

  Jed had taken some convincing, but Flo, and later his poignant reunion with Saja had won him over.

  It helped that Desta—an old African name meaning joy—had a sorry tale of his own to tell. He’d been abandoned in a paper bag at the side of the road, and even Jed at his most stubborn couldn’t say no. The fast-growing, mischievous young pup had been glued to his side from the moment Max brought him home.

  It was a shame Jed couldn’t take him to Colorado. Max would’ve felt better about the mysterious, open-ended trip if Desta had been with him. The spaniel clearly thought so too. Even now, he was lying with his eyes lazily trained on the horizon, awaiting his master’s return.

  Max let out a heavy sigh. At least Glenn was with him, right? Glenn had been their rock while Jed had been ill. Too often, he’d been the only thing standing between Jed and another lengthy hospital stay. He’d been gone more than a month now, and Max missed him almost as much as he missed Jed, who’d only been gone a few weeks.

  A few weeks. Fuck. It feels like a bloody lifetime.

  Max went back to his work, completing a boat renovation and putting the finishing touches to the long-neglected desk project he’d started when Jed had been in the hospital. He’d just carved his initials in the legs when Flo’s low bark signaled a presence behind him.

  “What are you making?”

  Max spun round and let out a startled gasp. He knew the voice, but for some reason, Jed’s droll grin was the last thing he expected to see. He dropped his carving blade with a clatter. “Damn, you scared the shit out of me.”

  “Sorry,” Jed deadpanned, but his grin widened, and he didn’t seem all that contrite. “Want me to go away and come back?”

  God, no. Don’t ever leave me again.

  Max shrugged and bent to retrieve his tool. “Where would you go?”

  “Here and there. Would be better if you came with me, though.”

  Max smiled a wry smile at the indirect reference to their impromptu road trip to Phoenix a few months back. Paul’s widow had given birth to a daughter while Jed had been in the hospital, and rather than brood over it as he might have done before his second brush with death, as soon as he was fit enough, Jed had thrown some clothes in a bag, hustled Max and Flo into the truck, and hit the road. They were halfway there when Max realized it was the furthest he’d been from the cabin since he’d come to Ashton all those years ago.

  Would he have had the balls without Jed by his side? Who knew? With any luck, he’d never find out.

  Jed tugged him upright and took the blade from his hand. “I’m sorry I was gone so long. I missed you.”

  Max sighed. Jed had given him little notice of his trip and no indication when he’d be back, but Max knew well enough whatever he was doing at his old Army base in Colorado wasn’t anything fun. “Don’t mind me. It’s been a while since I had a real conversation. Luke and Raffi don’t say much. I missed you too. A lot.”

  Jed’s expression softened. Max put his hands on his chest and took a moment to absorb the metronomic thud of his heart. He closed his eyes, willing away the memories of those dark, dark days when that steady beat had slowed to nothing. His short-term memory often failed him, but that black moment would stay with him forever. He couldn’t clearly recall the scene, the faces around him, or even the explanations that came later, but sometimes he could still feel the icy wrench in his heart as the center of his world slipped away.

  Jed closed his hands around his wrists. “You with me?”

  “Think so. Did you say something?”

  “Nothing important.” Jed rubbed his stubbled cheek against Max’s own. “Come inside?”

  “Where are the others?”

  The deep rumble of a truck engine answered his question. Jed grinned. “Taking the dogs into town to pick the girls up from school. Belle seems to have Raffi under her spell.”

  “She gets that from you,” Max said dryly, noting that Flo had disappeared. Recently, he’d come to realize Belle was, in her own way, just like Jed—stubborn, insanely observant, and so bloody lovable.

  “If you say so.” Jed yanked on his hand, harder this time, more demand than request. “Now come inside.”

  Max didn’t protest as Jed led him inside. He’d come to know the glint in his eyes rather well over the past few months. Clothes littered a path into the cabin. They barely made it to the bed, and it seemed no time passed at all before Jed pushed Max down on his stomach and slid into him from behind.

  The pace started slow and sweet, but fast became rough and urgent as weeks of separation with little contact began to fade away.

  Jed covered Max with his body, wrapping his strong arms round his neck and shoulders in a viselike grip, molding them together in a perfect fit as the bed jumped and squeaked beneath them.

  Max braced himself on the wall, scrabbling for purchase on the chipped paint, and reveling in the sensation of Jed inside him. They didn�
��t often fuck like this, so rough and physical. The desire was there… damn, it was always there, but sometimes, the inferno between them was too much.

  Jed slipped his hand around them, sliding his chest against Max’s sweat-slicked back. He took Max’s cock in one hand and joined his other hand with Max’s on the wall. The change in angle made Max see stars. He pushed back, desperate to take more of Jed in, to feel him all the way from his curling toes to his tingling fingertips. Jed was big, thick and long… too much, but never, ever enough.

  Release hit him like a freight train. He came with a shout, spilling into Jed’s hand. Behind him, Jed stilled and released inside him with a rumbling groan.

  Max’s arms gave way, and he collapsed face-first with a rueful smirk. Though a dominant, physical lover when his mood was right, Jed was as quiet during sex as he was with everything else. Max liked that. It suited him.

  He gathered his shortened breath and rolled over. Jed lay sprawled on his back beside him, his sun-lightened hair a sex-tousled mess. Max pushed it out of his face.

  Jed opened his eyes and smiled. “So you really did miss me, huh?”

  Max ducked under Jed’s raised arm. “Piss off.”

  Jed grinned, and new warmth crept into Max’s bones. He remembered the first time they’d slept together, that stormy night when Jed was so tired and devastated he’d wept in his arms. Sex was different these days. Jed was different these days. Sometimes Max could hardly reconcile the smiling, energetic lover he had now with the haunted, broken soldier who’d walked onto his land nearly a year ago.

  Happy, healthy Jed was a sight to behold.

  Max traced the fresh pink scar on Jed’s belly. It was three inches long and dwarfed by the other scars branding Jed’s body, but to both of them, the tiny incision represented a new lease on life.

  Jed shivered.

  Max stilled his fingers. “Am I hurting you?”