Holding Out for a Hero Page 2

  Lost. It was a shitty word to use when someone died. People had repeated over and over at his parents’ funeral how sorry they were for his loss and again at Jenny’s. It was such a casual term to convey a moment that had forever changed his life and destroyed his happiness.

  Taken. That was a better way to describe his wife being killed in the middle of their Base Exchange. A Texas military base should have been the safest place for her to be while he was at home, waiting for his next assignment. He’d been drinking beer with his friends and watching football while she’d run out to get something to make them all for dinner.

  He’d always expected that someday, she’d get the knock on the door and the notification of his death.

  Not the other way around.

  Blake picked up speed on the freeway, his grip tightening on the wheel until his fingers throbbed, giving him something to focus on instead of his dead wife. For two years he’d been trying to run away from his misery. He’d moved across the country, away from everything that reminded him of her and his past, and still she haunted him.

  It was why he was still hesitant about dating. He hadn’t even been out with another woman in the two years since he lost her, let alone slept with someone else. Jenny was the only woman he’d ever been with; it was enough to make any man gun-shy about hooking up with someone new.

  For some reason, Hannah’s angry face flashed through his mind. Since the first time they’d met, he’d seen her shy side, seen her smile and laugh, seen her act happy or shocked by his teasing.

  But today, when she’d appeared ready to throttle him, he’d felt a shock of something he hadn’t even recognized at first until he’d walked out of Dale’s.

  Interest.

  Hannah’s fury had stirred up something inside him. He liked Hannah, had always noticed she was pretty—he wasn’t blind, after all.

  But he’d never been tempted to cup her face in his hands and kiss her until she was smiling again.

  The image was why he’d booked it out of there so fast, not bothering to wait for her to come around and say bye.

  He was still shocked he’d left his number for her. He’d been joking about the recommendations, and then she’d been so eager, that spark in her eyes, that rush of excitement at possibly sharing something she was passionate about with him.

  He hadn’t been able to resist.

  Blake pulled into the parking lot, and as soon as he turned off his car, he picked up his phone to see if it was her.

  Where are you, dick munch? I got a bone to pick with you.

  Damn it, the text was from Bryce.

  He didn’t even bother texting her back, just climbed out of the car and headed into the bar. The loud blast of classic rock vibrated the floor as he made his way through the crowd and down the stairs to where his friends usually hung. The first thing he saw when he reached the bottom was Best and Sparks playing pool, while Martinez and Slater hung by the table watching.

  And then Bryce was in his way, punching him in the gut, her blue eyes flashing in the dim bar lights.

  “Bastard. Best said you were full of shit.”

  It really hadn’t hurt, just caught him by surprise. Standing back up with a laugh, he said, “You’re really going to believe Best?”

  “Hell yeah I am, and you’re lucky I am such a benevolent and forgiving person.”

  “Sure I am.” Patting her shoulder a couple of times, he added, “I’m sorry I said that about your ass.”

  “Ha, you better be, especially since I was nice enough to invite someone to meet you.”

  Blake’s blood ran cold as he searched the bar for Bryce’s special guest. He noticed a pretty Asian girl talking to Slater Vincent, one of the other trainers at Alpha Dog, and growled.

  “Bryce . . . ”

  “What?”

  “Why do you keep ambushing me with all of your single friends?”

  Bryce frowned at him as if he was the annoying one. This was her second attempt at setting him up, and while the first woman had been perfectly lovely, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking of Jenny, thus reaffirming his conviction that he wasn’t ready.

  And yet, here they were again.

  “Come on, just say hi to her. I didn’t tell her I was introducing her to anyone. I just invited her to come out with some of my coworkers. There’s no pressure.”

  “Except that Slater and I are the only single dudes, so she’s going to get some kind of idea about who she’s here for.” Blake ran his hands over his face with a sigh. “Why do you have to make me the bad guy?”

  She threw up her hands as if she was surrendering to something unreasonable. “Fine, I won’t introduce you.”

  Before Blake could thank her, though, he glanced over and saw Jane walking toward them, a wide smile on her face.

  “Megs, I thought you ditched me.”

  Bryce gave him a look that clearly said whoops, too late. “Sorry, just saying hi to Blake. Blake, this is Jane. Jane, Blake Kline.”

  Jane held out her hand to him eagerly. “Hi, Megan’s told me a lot about you.”

  Blake didn’t even want to know what the lot was. “I’m Blake, good to meet you.” He took her hand and gave it a firm shake before releasing it.

  “Why don’t I get you two kids some drinks and leave you to chat?” Before Blake could protest, she’d shimmied up the stairs faster than the weasel she was and left him alone with Jane.

  “So, Megan tells me you work with search and rescue dogs. That must be cool. How did you get into that?”

  Asking questions about his interests. Yep, definitely a setup.

  “My dad trained hounds while I was growing up and taught me everything he knew.” Wishing he had a drink in his hand at the moment, he tried to at least be personable. “How do you know Bryce?”

  “Oh, we went to high school together, and we kept in touch. She’s awesome.”

  I’d argue that point.

  “Yeah, she’s something.” Catching Best and Sparks watching them with barely smothered grins, he knew one or both of them had a hand in this. “So, what do you do for a living, Jane?”

  “I’m actually in the UC Davis veterinary program. I’ve got another two years, but I love animals, so I’m excited. Hoping to eventually work at a surgical center, but I might go large animal. It all depends.”

  “Here we go.” Bryce popped in with two drinks, one a fruity cocktail and the other a frothy beer, which she handed to him. “How are things going?”

  “We were just talking about our careers,” Jane said.

  Before Bryce could respond, Blake jumped in with a means of escape. “Will you ladies excuse me a minute? I’ve got to talk to Sparks about a problem with one of our trainees.”

  Before Bryce’s withering look set him on fire, he walked away, coming up alongside Sparks.

  “You could have at least warned me Bryce was plotting revenge.”

  Sparks shrugged his linebacker shoulders before leaning over the pool table to take his shot.

  “Dude, you told Bryce I called her fat. You deserve far worse than a hot girl,” Best said.

  “I said you called her ass puffy, not fat.”

  Best made a face at him. “Dick.” Sparks missed, and Best tipped back his beer until his glass was empty. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before lining up his shot. “Your problem is that it’s been so long since you’ve even seen any ass that you’ve forgotten how to talk to chicks. I’ll try to control Bryce, but as your friend, I need to tell you that bottling up the boys and never achieving release is no bueno.”

  Normally, Best’s jackass comments wouldn’t have spiked Blake’s temper, but it wasn’t as if he’d been dumped by some woman who’d broken his heart. Jenny was everything he’d ever wanted, and they’d had eleven amazing years together.

  Two years might seem like a long time to Best, but to Blake, it was a blip.

  As much as these guys were his brothers, there was only so much they could understand about what he�
�d been through. Combat, fears about not coming home, or regret over those they’d left behind—that they could empathize with, but losing a spouse to violence?

  If they really understood, they would get why he was so pissed.

  Before he could vent his frustrations, though, Best clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, I’m sorry, man. I know I can be an insensitive prick sometimes, and I’m trying to work on it—”

  “Try harder,” Blake said through gritted teeth.

  Best grinned sheepishly. “Fair enough. I’ll make sure Bryce backs up off your shit, and we’ll try to . . . be more empathetic to your needs.”

  Best sounded as if he was almost choking on the words, and Sparks looked at him from across the table crossly. “What’s this we shit? I’ve been telling you to leave him alone, so don’t include me in your actions. I’m just an innocent bystander.”

  Blake couldn’t help but laugh. “Where the hell did you learn a word like empathetic, anyway?”

  “Therapy.”

  Blake grimaced. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. It’s actually helped a lot. Plus, the therapist gave me these exercises to help me deal with shit, so, you know, making progress.”

  Although he was happy for Best, Blake couldn’t imagine actually enjoying therapy. Even when they were all stuck in group together, Blake hid behind his friends to avoid participating. It didn’t always work, but then he said as little as possible. Hashing out his emotions with a stranger had never been something he’d deemed helpful.

  Best leaned in, apparently unable to refrain from one last remark. “By the way, say hello to Sally Palm and her five sisters later.”

  Sparks, who was standing next to them, spewed his beer, erupting in a cough that sounded suspiciously like smothered laughter. Blake shoved his middle finger under Best’s nose, but his friend escaped in order to take his shot.

  Blake hated to admit it, but Best wasn’t far off about that. Blake had been spending a lot of extra time jacking off lately, usually early in the morning as he showered. He also hated to admit that more frequently, his fantasies had included a woman who bore a striking resemblance to Hannah.

  Blake took a long pull of his beer. Maybe he did need to just push the guilt back and at least settle for something physical. A little relief so he wasn’t so pent up and having dirty thoughts about a woman who was supposed to be a friend.

  Glancing Jane’s way, he took a large gulp of his beer before checking his phone again. No new messages.

  “What the hell,” he muttered. Talking to a pretty woman didn’t have to mean anything.

  Besides, he really didn’t want to go home to his quiet apartment again. Maybe Jane was interested in a little mutual sexual relief, too.

  This time, Jenny’s face swam behind his closed eyeballs, and he cringed. It seemed as though every step he took to try to move on was thwarted by thoughts of her, which inevitably led to mountains of guilt.

  Slipping his phone back into his pocket, he polished off his beer and went to talk to Bryce’s friend. Tonight, he was going to forget about everything else and just live a little. It had been two years, right?

  Just because he was alive and Jenny wasn’t, that didn’t mean he deserved to be this miserable.

  Did it?

  HANNAH PULLED HER phone out of her purse for the eighteenth time, desperately wishing for the nerve to text Blake. What was the harm?

  “Are we keeping you from something?”

  The question came from the surprise date her best friend, Nicki, had arranged without her prior knowledge. What was his name? Mark?

  He was giving her a sort of vacant grin, and she noticed the hunk of spinach between his teeth, probably left over from the salad they’d had an hour ago. Should she tell him?

  “Figured you must have something better to do, since you can’t seem to put your phone down.”

  Hannah’s eyes narrowed. That wasn’t true at all. He was the one who’d been pretty curt and rude to her from the start, and okay, yeah, she’d been checking her phone a lot, but he didn’t have to point it out.

  Screw it, he could save the spinach in his teeth for later.

  “No, sorry, I am a substitute teacher, and so I have to keep checking for available jobs,” she said.

  He seemed to buy the excuse and turned back to Nicki’s date, Garret, talking about football. Hannah caught Nicki’s exasperated look, but Hannah had warned her she wasn’t in the mood for an impromptu dinner date with a guy who had hardly spoken to her except for a few awkward attempts at small talk earlier. Now it seemed he was just as irritated about having to be there as she was.

  It wasn’t that Mark or Matt or whatever his name was wasn’t cute; he was, spinach teeth and all. He just wasn’t . . .

  Hannah grabbed her purse and gave the table an apologetic smile. “I’ll be right back.”

  She got up and wasn’t surprised when Nicki followed, hot on her heels.

  “You better not be sneaking out of here,” her friend warned.

  “I’m just going to the bathroom. Relax.”

  “You’re being really antisocial toward Max.”

  Aha, I knew it started with an M.

  “I am not. We just don’t have a lot in common, and he’s a little bit . . . ” Rude? Obnoxious? “He just seems a little disappointed playing wingman.”

  “Oh, shut up! He totally thinks you’re cute, but you’ve hardly said two words to him.”

  Hannah pushed into the bathroom with a sigh. “I have said more than two words, but I am tired. I am cranky. I have been up since four, and all I wanted to do was go home and curl up in bed with a book.”

  Hannah locked herself in the stall as Nicki kept talking. “That seems to be all you do lately! Read, work, and stay home. You’re not an eighty-year-old grandma, you know! You are a young, nubile chick who needs to get some action.”

  Hannah pulled out her phone, leaning against the stall door as she scrolled through and stopped on Blake’s name. “Just because I don’t throw myself at every guy you send my way doesn’t mean I’m not looking for action. I’m just picky about it.”

  She pressed down on the text message icon while Nicki kept ranting on the other side. Before she lost her nerve, she tapped out a message.

  Hey, it’s Hannah. If you’re really interested in giving romance novels a try, here are three of my favorite authors. Let me know what you think.

  Hannah listed the names and hit send.

  “Geez, are you taking a crap in there? Come on!” Nicki said.

  “Coming.” Hannah slipped her phone inside her purse and said a silent prayer that she hadn’t just made a terrible mistake.

  SHIT, I’M DRUNK.

  Blake had known that drinking seven beers was probably a mistake, but for some reason, he’d just kept tossing them back. Jane had also had too much to drink, as her voice got much higher the more intoxicated she became.

  And it was actually grating on his nerves.

  God, he hadn’t had this much to drink since the Alpha Dog Christmas party, and that had been a colossal mistake. Not only had he nearly screwed up Best’s relationship with his girlfriend, Dani, but he’d almost lost Best as a friend. Since then, he’d laid off having more than one beer, until tonight.

  He’d had the second beer, hoping for enough of a buzz to chase away any reservations he’d had about talking to Jane, but it hadn’t helped, so he’d downed another. By his fifth, he knew it wasn’t about Jane; although he’d talked to her a bit, there had been no spark, no interest whatsoever.

  Maybe thinking about Jenny so much today had increased his need to drink.

  It could also be that I was hoping Hannah would text.

  “Want another drink?” Jane asked, giggling.

  Why was her voice so shrill? Hannah’s was low and husky, and it washed over him pleasantly, while this woman’s sounded more like a peacock’s cry.

  “No, I’m good. I gotta drive.”

  “Yeah, I don’t think so
, buddy.” Martinez came up behind him and put his arm around his shoulders. “What do you say I give you a lift home?”

  Blake tried to think of a reason why that wouldn’t work, but his brain was too fuzzy. “Fine, it’s not like there’s anything left in my car to steal.”

  “We’ll stop by it, just to make sure. Say good night, Blake.”

  Their group hollered good night, and Blake wasn’t surprised when Jane slipped him her number. When they reached the top of the stairs, Blake tossed it in the trash.

  Martinez gave him a thoughtful look. “I take it you’re not interested?”

  “No.”

  Martinez didn’t say another word until they reached his car. Blake grabbed his duffle out of the trunk and tossed it into the back of Martinez’s SUV. He climbed into the passenger seat, the cold sobering him up slightly, and grumbled, “It’s colder than a witch’s tit, man. Turn up the heat.”

  “Dude, you turn into a caveman when you drink.” Martinez cranked up the heater, and Blake sighed back into the seat.

  “I’m sorry, man. I know I’m being a jerk.”

  “If you know you’re doing it, then why don’t you stop?” Martinez backed out of the parking space, and the sway of the car made Blake’s stomach turn. He must have groaned aloud, because Martinez glanced his way and warned, “If you puke in my car, you’re cleaning it up.”

  “I’m not going to puke.” At least, he hoped not.

  He thought about Martinez’s question as they drove down the street toward the freeway. If you know you’re doing it, then why don’t you stop? He wasn’t sure, really. Maybe he was just a jerk who wanted to make everyone as miserable as he was.

  His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he struggled to pull it out, his vision blurry as he stared at the screen.

  Hey, it’s Hannah.

  He could hardly read the rest of her message, something about book titles, but by the time Martinez dropped him off, his cheeks were aching.

  “Dude, why are you grinning like that? It’s fucking creepy.”

  Blake climbed out of the car and said, “Because I’m going to go inside and order something called Blitzing Emily.”