Page 50 of Cowboy’s Last Stand (His to Protect #1)

When it was time to leave, Natalie thanked London’s mother for a lovely meal and headed outside with Marcus. They were crossing the driveway when a black Jeep pulled up to the curb. It was sporty and clean, about ten years old, but in excellent condition.

To her shock, Jason exited the vehicle.

She froze in place while Marcus burst forward with a shout of glee. Her son ran full-tilt toward Jason, who accepted the tackle-hug with open arms. Natalie was too stunned to move for several seconds. Then her limbs unlocked, and she walked toward them.

Jason was wearing nicer clothes than usual.

His blue button-down shirt fit well across his shoulders, the sleeves rolled up to display his strong forearms. Charcoal-gray trousers and a black cowboy hat completed the look.

Although Natalie liked him just fine in worn jeans and basic T-shirts, this was a cut above.

He set Marcus on his feet, removed his hat, and regarded her cautiously. His black hair gleamed in the sunlight, and his jaw was smooth-shaven. There should be a law against a man showing up unannounced, looking this good. His eyes glinted with appreciation as he studied her in return.

“Natalie,” he said.

“Jason.”

“You look nice.”

Her cheeks heated at his words. They sounded like a deliberate reference to the last time she’d worn this dress. She remembered every moment of their night at the VFW, the night of their first kiss. “Did you drive all the way from San Diego?”

“No. I never left Texas.”

“You didn’t?”

“I’m at Fort Cavazos.”

She frowned at him without comprehension. Fort Cavazos, formerly Fort Hood, was less than twenty minutes from Last Chance. Mike had been stationed there. He was buried in the adjacent veteran’s cemetery. “You’ve been at Fort Cavazos this whole time?”

“Yes. I got a job on base.”

“Marcus said you were close to Mexico.”

Jason ruffled Marcus’s hair. “I told you I was close to Last Chance .”

“Show me your truck,” Marcus said, unconcerned with geography.

“Do you mind?” Jason asked her.

She shook her head, feeling numb. Jason opened the door for Marcus, who started climbing all over the interior. The Jeep had a CB radio, which Marcus wanted to play with. Jason let him talk into the receiver and honk the horn.

“It’s a military vehicle, re-designated,” Jason explained to Natalie. “I rebuilt the engine and got it for a steal.”

Natalie murmured an acknowledgment, though she barely glanced at it, and didn’t care. She was too busy staring at Jason with open fascination. Had he been this handsome last week? More importantly, why had she let him get away?

Marcus hopped out the passenger side. “Can we get ice cream?”

“I came to talk to your mom, actually. Is that OK with you?”

“Can we get ice cream after?”

Jason glanced at Natalie, who nodded her permission.

London, who’d been watching from her front porch, chose that moment to stroll over.

She exchanged a friendly greeting with Jason and offered to take Marcus back to her house to play with her cousins.

Marcus went without arguing, as if he knew they needed to discuss “adult stuff.”

Jason turned to Natalie, his gaze direct. “Can we start over?”

Natalie was afraid to respond, afraid she might throw her arms around his neck, sobbing and begging him to love her again.

“I’m Jason Reed,” he said and stuck his hand out.

She shook it gingerly. “Natalie Luna.”

“I knew your husband in Kabul.”

This statement might have ended the conversation a month ago. She might have said it wasn’t a good time to talk or made some other excuse to send him away.

“I came here to tell his story. I’d appreciate the chance to share it.”

She cleared her throat. “Would you like to come in?”

A month ago, he might have refused. He might have insisted on staying outside, where he felt more comfortable.

Today, he inclined his head in agreement.

She went through the front door and gestured to the couch.

He sat, clasping his strong hands together.

The ambiance inside her home had changed, and she knew he recognized the difference.

She’d put away most of her mementos. Her living room no longer resembled a shrine.

“I have iced tea,” she said, falling back on basic Texas hospitality.

“That would be great.”

She poured two glasses and brought them from the kitchen.

When she handed him one, he drained half of it.

She took the seat beside him and waited for him to speak.

He took a breath, as if collecting himself.

Then he told the same story, in the same somber tone, about the accident in Kabul.

It sounded different to her ears, however.

It sounded different because she was different and because she knew it was about Mike.

“Mike was one of the best people I’d ever worked with,” Jason began. “He was an excellent Marine and a good man.”

Her eyes filled with tears at the apt description. It wasn’t because she was still grieving her lost husband. It was just that the memories made her emotional. She grabbed a tissue, smiling to let Jason know she was OK.

“I’d been briefed about the scene before we arrived.

It was supposed to be a small explosive device that could be dismantled easily.

When I got there, I discovered something much more complicated.

There was a second set of fuses leading to a large underground cache.

It was two bombs, designed to work back-to-back. ”

She nodded her understanding.

“I reassessed the threat and informed Mike. The team had to evacuate a much wider area than we’d planned, including a nearby mosque.

It was chaotic. I should have retreated with them.

Instead, I decided to keep working. I knew there was a greater risk, but I ignored it.

I assumed that defusing the first bomb would neutralize the second. ”

“It didn’t,” she whispered.

“No. It was designed to do the opposite. When I heard the click of a trigger mechanism, I realized I’d made a fatal mistake. I tried to run, but I couldn’t because of my suit. Its layers of protection impede movement.”

Natalie swallowed hard. She knew what came next.

“I tripped and fell. Mike came to help me, against my orders. He got me to a safer distance before the explosives detonated.”

“You said he was in the impact zone even before he came to help you.”

“That’s right.”

“Would he have died anyway?”

Jason raked a hand through his hair. He hadn’t told this part of the story before.

She hadn’t asked this question. “According to the report, his original location had a 75 percent mortality rate. He could have reached a 25 percent zone if he’d run away.

The mosque also offered some cover. It was about 50 percent. ”

“So he might have been killed even if he’d left you to die.”

“Yes.”

“Did he know that?”

“He understood perimeters and impact zones. He could calculate the risks.”

“And he knew that you both had a chance if he could get you to the mosque.”

“Yes.”

“What would you have done in his position?”

Jason stared at the coffee table. “We’re trained to follow orders and minimize risk. To save ourselves first.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

He avoided her gaze. The tears he would not shed shone in his eyes for a brief moment before he blinked them away. “I don’t know what I would have done,” he said gruffly. “Everyone thinks they’d be a hero. Mike was the real deal.”

She placed her fingertips on his jaw and tilted his face toward hers. No matter what else passed between them, she wanted to let this rest. She hoped he felt less burdened now. He’d tortured himself for too long. “Thank you for telling me.”

“I should have done it in the beginning,” he said.

She didn’t disagree, but the anger she’d felt over his deception was no longer at the forefront of her mind. She wasn’t numb or stuck in the same place anymore. She could heal, forgive, and move on. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you say goodbye to Marcus.”

His eyes traveled over the planes of her face. He seemed to understand that she’d softened toward him, and he wasn’t the type of man to give up easily. He didn’t give up, period. “I miss you,” he said in a low voice.

“I miss you too.”

A muscle in his jaw flexed beneath her fingertips. He leaned toward her, his mouth close. “Can we try again?”

She answered by lifting her lips to his.

He grasped her face with one hand, his thumb brushing a tear on her cheek, and gave her a kiss that took her breath away.

It started slow, but it wasn’t gentle or tentative.

His mouth was hot and hungry, his tongue searching hers.

He kissed her with all of the emotion he’d been suppressing for years.

He kissed her as if their lives depended on it.

She kissed him back with the same fervor, threading her fingers through his hair. He smelled delicious, like soap and aftershave and warm male skin, and he tasted faintly of iced tea. His hands roved her body, skimming her bare back.

She wanted him. She wanted to pull the dress over her head and push the shirt off his shoulders.

She wanted to forget about everything that had driven them apart and come together in a frantic rush.

So she arched her body against his and moaned into his mouth.

She tugged at the nape of his neck and urged him on.

But he didn’t take her up on the unspoken offer. He didn’t press her down on the couch cushions and have her. He broke the kiss and buried his face in her throat. Their breaths mingled, heavy with need. Fraught with emotion.

“Did you read my letter?” he rasped.

“Yes.”

He lifted his head. “And you thought I’d go to San Diego?”

“You left a Montana address.”

“I was on foot.”

“That’s never stopped you before.”

His lips curved into a wry smile, and his dark gaze searched hers.

After a short pause, his hands fell away from her, as if he wanted to focus on the conversation and couldn’t manage the feat while touching her.

She kept her arms around his neck, unwilling to let go.

“I accepted a temporary job offer at Fort Cavazos,” he said.

“One of their mechanics is on leave. But there’s a permanent position I’m considering. ”

“What’s that?”

“Munitions safety instructor.”

Natalie realized that this would be a more challenging assignment for him than fill-in mechanic. It would be more dangerous. She kissed the side of his jaw, where a muscle flexed. “You don’t have to push yourself so hard.”

“I want to.”

“Why?”

“I want to be a better man.”

Tears sprang into her eyes at his sincere confession. “It doesn’t matter what job you take, Jason. You’re already one of the best men I’ve ever known.”

His throat worked as he swallowed. “I’m going to take care of myself, like you said. I’m going to be as steady as a rock.”

“You’ll stay in Texas then?”

“Yes. I’ll stay.”

She liked the sound of that. Her fingertips wandered down his hard chest. “There’s something I should tell you.”

He trapped her hand over his heart. “What is it?”

“I love you.”

He gaped at her in disbelief. “Since when?”

She bit down on her lower lip, thinking back. “Since the first time we were together. That’s why I got so unsettled afterward. It wasn’t just that I enjoyed it, you know, intensely . The realization that I was in love with you scared me.”

“Because you thought I wouldn’t stay?”

“I didn’t know if you would,” she said. “I’d been closed off for so long. It’s hard for someone like me to take a risk again.”

He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her fingertips. “I love you so much, Natalie. I was afraid you’d never speak to me again. I thought you’d hate me forever. I was sure I’d screwed everything up in a way that couldn’t be fixed.”

“We can fix it.”

“Will you marry me?”

Laughter bubbled from her throat. She pulled her hand away, shaking her head.

“I’m serious.”

“I know,” she said. “You only have one speed—overdrive.”

A crease formed between his brows. He looked so handsome and so earnest. “What’s your answer?”

“My answer is let’s wait and take it slow. We’re not even living together.”

“We can live together.”

“Are you staying on base?”

“Yes.”

“How do you like it?”

“It’s OK,” he said, “I’m still sleeping indoors. But I like it better here. I could stay in your apartment and finish the renovations.”

“All right,” she said, her pulse racing.

“When can I ask you again?”

She smiled at the question. “How about next year?”

“How about Christmas?”

“That’s only a month away.”

“We don’t have to agree on a date right now,” he decided.

She twined her arms around his neck again. “I’ve heard that passionate couples disagree.”

His gaze darkened. “And they make up in bed?”

“Yes,” she said, touching her lips to his.

After a hot, searing kiss, he scrambled off the couch and brought her to her feet.

Then he lifted her easily and carried her over the threshold to her bedroom.

He kicked the door shut behind him and pinned her down on the bed.

For the next hour, they surrendered to passion and pleasure.

He declared his love for her in slow caresses, and she repeated the words in his ear, again and again.

They both needed to revel in each other after so much heartache and loss.

They both needed the physical and emotional release, the ultimate expression of love.

And they didn’t disagree on anything else for a very long time.