Breaking point, p.3
Breaking Point, page 3
“I got it,” he said.
When there was nothing else to keep them standing there, Collette finally pulled herself together and stepped backward, letting her hands fall to her sides. She rubbed them against her shorts. “I’d offer you dinner for your trouble, but—”
“It got wet in the downpour,” he finished. “How about this? I was about to throw some steaks on the grill. Why don’t you come eat with me?”
She shook her head, frowning. “But you helped me. I owe you dinner.”
“You can repay me with your company. You’re the only person I know here, and I hate eating alone.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Or am I too much of a stranger for you to feel comfortable?”
She laughed. “Considering we’ve gone swimming together, survived a flood and worked a project like a maintenance team, I’d say we’re past the stranger stage.” She held out her hand. “I’d love to join you for dinner. I might even have some salad fixings left in the refrigerator and a can of green beans.”
“Good. I can cook a steak like a master chef, but I never remember to add vegetables to my meals.”
“You really should.” Collette shrugged. “Granted, canned green beans don’t have the best nutritional value, but they’re better than nothing.” She reached around him to the cabinet over his left shoulder and retrieved the can of green beans, noting how few cans there were of anything. She really needed to make a trip to the grocery store or send Hope with a wad of her tip money. Whatever they got wouldn’t be much, and it would have to last until she worked again the next weekend.
Her paychecks weren’t large. They covered most of the monthly rent, but it was her tip money she relied on to pay for groceries, gas and books. Thankfully, her utilities were included in the rent. It was one of the reasons she’d chosen to move her and her daughter out of a decent rent house into this dump of a trailer. It was a set amount, unlike utilities in most places, which could fluctuate with the seasons. Her paycheck plus some money from her savings and her tips had to see them through the year and a half remaining for her to finish her training.
Collette’s stomach knotted. “I’m due a trip to the store. There’s not much room to store things in this little kitchen, which means I have to go buy groceries more often.”
She quickly closed the cabinet door, embarrassed by the lack of food. The last thing she wanted was for this man to feel sorry for her or think she wasn’t providing enough for her child. Her boss at the Salty Dog would let her work extra days if she needed the money. And it looked like she’d have to pick up another shift soon to help fill her refrigerator with enough food for two to make it another week.
John was frowning at the closed cabinet door. “Is that all the pantry staples you have?”
“It is for now. Again, I’m due a trip to the store.”
His eyes narrowed as he stared into her face.
Collette’s shoulders squared, and she lifted her chin, meeting his gaze without flinching. “Look, if you’re planning on feeding me steak out of some sense of charity, you can eat alone. I have food. I’m not starving. And I can contribute a damned can of green beans and a salad to a meal.”
He held up his hands like a shield. “Okay, okay. I was serious. I don’t like to eat alone. You’re the only friendly face I know in the trailer park.” His lips twisted into a crooked smile. “Well, it was the only friendly face.” He pointed at her mouth. “You’re kind of frowning now.”
When Collette realized she was scowling, she forced her face to relax and shook out the stiffness in her arms and shoulders. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be ungrateful.”
“I don’t need gratitude. I need greens.” He winked and patted his flat belly. “Gotta stay healthy for my job.”
She turned to the refrigerator and grabbed out what was left of a head of lettuce, half a tomato and a bottle of salad dressing. Fortunately, the lettuce and tomato still looked good. She tore off a wilted leaf, pulled out her cutting board and made quick work of cutting up a salad. “What do you do that requires you to stay healthy?” she asked over her shoulder.
“Army,” he responded.
The hand holding the knife slipped, and she nicked her fingertip. “Ouch.” She dropped the knife and stuck her finger beneath the water faucet he’d just fixed, running water over the small cut.
“Let me see.” He gripped her shoulders and turned her to face him, taking her hand in his. “Do you have a paper towel or cloth?”
“No paper towels, but I have a dishtowel in the drawer beside you.”
Still holding her hand in his larger one, he opened the drawer with the other hand and pulled out a clean towel, wrapped it around her finger and looked up. “Alcohol and bandages?”
Collette tipped her head toward her right shoulder. “Above the sink to my right.”
He reached past her, his arm brushing her ear, sending waves of awareness through her. He smelled of wet male and the outdoors.
She inhaled, closing her eyes. She didn’t want to admit she was feeling desire for this stranger. Awareness was enough to deal with. Desire equaled distraction. She didn’t have the time or the energy for distraction. She had to get through her nursing course. She needed a good-paying job so that she could help Hope through college.
As he leaned toward the cabinet, their hands were sandwiched between them, his knuckles grazing her breasts, the back of her hand touching his chest.
Breathing became more difficult.
Finally, he came away with a small bottle of alcohol that had only a few drops left and an old box of bandages with cartoon figures decorating them. She was pretty sure they were some she’d purchased when Hope had been learning to walk and run.
He pulled one out, and the paper around it crumbled it was so old. John shook his head. Still holding her hand in his with the cloth wrapped tightly around her injured finger, he started for the door. “Come on. I have a first aid kit in my camper.”
She dug in her heels. “It’s okay. I’m sure the bleeding has already stopped. It’s not like a cut off my finger. It’s just a little cut.”
“You’re coming with me.”
“But the salad—”
“Can wait. Besides, I’m not keen on blood on my lettuce.” He winked. “Seriously, we can come back and get the salad and green beans after we bandage your wound.”
“You’re going to think I’m a lousy neighbor.” Collette let him guide her toward the door. “What with broken faucets and poor cooking skills.”
“I’m not thinking anything like that. I’m thinking I’m hungry enough to eat a side of beef, that my charcoal is getting hot and those steaks aren’t going to cook themselves.” He stopped at her door. “Now, are you going to let me get you to that first aid kit, or are you going to argue some more?”
“Your steak is calling.” She pushed past him and led the way through the door. “Let’s do this.”
His chuckle behind her warmed her insides. He wasn’t mad at her. He was hangry and ready for his dinner. She’d have dinner with him, and that would be the end of it.
She sighed.
Too bad he was in the Army. She’d sworn off military men when Hope’s father had left Fort Hood without saying goodbye or kiss my ass. Three dates, and he hadn’t even called or texted her to let her know he was joining the Army and had a reporting date. He hadn’t cared enough to end whatever had just started. Collette had had to find out from one of his friends that he’d left. A couple months later, she’d called to let him know that she was pregnant with his child, but he hadn’t even answered his phone.
She’d left a message.
No response.
She’d known he’d been taking calls and texts because his friends had still been communicating with him. He just hadn’t wanted anything to do with her or his child.
Pregnant at sixteen, she’d kept it secret from her parents as long as she could. When they’d found out, they’d been livid. They’d allowed her to stay until she’d given birth. Then they’d set her up in apartment, gave her enough money to live on for three months and told her to deal with life.
Alone at seventeen, she’d had to find daycare for her baby, get a job and tough it out on her own.
She hadn’t gone back to her parents for anything. They’d never known their granddaughter, and Hope had never met them. They’d died in a boating accident on Canyon Lake when Hope had been three. Any hope of reconciliation had gone with their passing.
Working at the Salty Dog Saloon, she’d met her share of military men. They had hit on her, propositioned her and asked her out. She’d effectively ignored their advances and refused to go out with them. She could possibly have married one and had a little help raising her daughter. But she’d refused to get into a relationship based on financial need. If she married—and that was a big if—it would be for love. If there really was such a thing.
Her gaze swept over John. Did he believe in love? Collette shook her head. Why even think about it? Love was not an option. Not until she had her RN certification.
“If you think your trailer is small…” John said as he climbed the steps and ducked through the door into his camper, “you’ll think it’s spacious compared to this.”
She followed him up the stairs, holding onto the dishtowel.
Once inside, she laughed. “You weren’t kidding.”
He disappeared into a miniscule bathroom and came back out with a small red and white first aid kit, setting it on the counter that doubled as a sink and a stove top. He pulled out alcohol pads and a bandage. In seconds, he’d cleaned her wound and applied the bandage. He stood back with a smile. “All better?”
She nodded. “Much better.”
He turned to the microwave, punched some numbers onto the control pad and hit start. The inside lit up, displaying two fat baking potatoes. “I was waiting to cook these until the grill was almost ready.”
“And then I interrupted with a spewing geyser,” Collette said.
“It worked out. The coals should be hot and ready for the steaks.”
“So, your meal would’ve been two steaks and two baked potatoes?” Collette frowned. “You sure you want to share?”
“Absolutely. I always cook extra. What I don’t eat makes great leftovers.” When she opened her mouth to protest, he held up a hand. “I’d rather have the company than the leftovers. Our dinner will be ready in less than twenty minutes.” John opened a dorm-sized refrigerator and pulled out a pan full of steaks swimming in an aromatic sauce. “I’ve had them marinating since this morning.”
“What do you use to marinate?” Collette pressed a hand to her loudly rumbling stomach.
He circled around her with the pan. “It’s a secret. But it has beer in it. If you’re allergic to beer, now’s a good time to tell me.” He hesitated with the steaks in hand.
“Not allergic,” she informed him. “Intrigued.”
“Trust me,” he said. “They’re good. My team lets only me grill the steaks when we get together.”
“That says something. Either they don’t want to do the cooking, or your steaks are really that good.”
“Hmm.” John tipped his head to one side. “Maybe they have been feeding my ego while I’ve been feeding them steaks.”
Collette laughed and followed him out of the camper and down the steps. “I’ll let you know after dinner.”
“Can you hold the pan while I stir the coals?” John asked.
“Sure.” She took the pan from him, careful not to spill the contents.
He opened the lid to the small grill and, using a long metal poker, he pushed the charcoal briquets around. When they glowed a bright red, he set the poker down, grabbed a pair of tongs from a nearby hook and laid the steaks over the grill. The juices dropped down on the hot coals and sizzled, sending up a scent that made Collette’s mouth water.
“I have a feeling your guys aren’t just stroking your ego.” Collette leaned over the cooking steaks, closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. “How long did you say it would be?”
“Less than twenty minutes.”
“I’ll be right back with the salad and green beans.”
“Need help?” he asked.
“Despite my recent performance, I’m not always a complete disaster. I’ve managed to live on my own since I was seventeen without killing myself or my daughter. I think I can finish making the salad and warming the green beans.”
He dipped his head. “I’ll be here, minding the steaks and my big mouth.”
Collette left him at the grill and hurried back to her trailer, smiling.
It really was too bad he was in the Army. She liked her big neighbor.
She wondered how long he’d be around. Based on the fact he was living in a camper, probably not long.
With a sigh, she reminded herself that she didn’t have time for men, or even one man. She was on a mission to complete her training. Anything else would have to wait until after she took the exam that would certify her as a registered nurse.
Until then, she had to remain celibate and focused.
As she warmed the beans and finished cutting the salad, she glanced through the window at the man at the grill.
Her resolve would be thoroughly tested by John Sanders.
Chapter 3
John stared at the steaks as they turned brown on the outside, his mind on the woman in the trailer next door. She lived in a tiny trailer with her daughter. Hell, she didn’t even look old enough to have a teenaged daughter. And to live in a trailer park had to mean they were living in hard times. If her pantry was anything to go by, they were existing paycheck to paycheck. Was she even working? The car parked on the pad beside her trailer was old with fading paint, scratches, dents and worn tires.
What had put her in such a precarious situation that she could barely afford to live? Yet, she’d been stubbornly prideful about refusing to be considered a charity case. The fire in her green eyes had been a complete turn-on, hitting him harder than he’d ever expected. She was a stranger, and yet he was attracted to her.
All the red flags were waving in his face. Hadn’t he learned from his past relationship to steer clear of women with children?
He’d been a twenty-year-old corporal, barely out of bootcamp and advanced infantry training when he’d met Linda and her little girl, Mandy. Linda had been four years older than him and had a three-year-old daughter. Six months into their relationship, he’d been head over heels for them. At least, he’d thought he was. He had bonded with little Mandy and he’d been the only father-figure Mandy had known in her young life.
Then he’d been deployed to Afghanistan. At first, Linda had kept in touch via video calls where he’d gotten to talk to her and Mandy. Then the videos had become just voice calls and happened less frequently.
Fourteen months later, when he’d gotten back, Linda and Mandy had been gone. That’s when he’d promised himself that he would never fall for a woman who had children. He’d thrown himself into training, driving himself hard, both physically and mentally. A sergeant in the Delta Force had seen him busting ass on the obstacle course one weekend and had encouraged him to try out for Delta Force.
That had been thirteen years ago. He’d been a Delta ever since. However, soon, his stint in the Army would be coming to an end. In just four more years, he’d retire. He couldn’t believe how quickly the time had passed. He was the old man of the team at thirty-four. It would be time to take a desk or training job to make room for the young guys coming up. At that point, he might not be deployed as often. He might have time to live his life like normal people.
John snorted. After years of living a high-octane life, he was looking forward to a slower lifestyle. One that included sitting on a porch and watching the sun set at the end of the day. Not charging into villages in the night, searching and destroying terrorist strongholds.
He flipped the steaks and glanced across at the trailer, catching a glimpse of Collette through the small window in her kitchen. She was looking back at him. With a lift of his chin, he returned his attention to the steaks that didn’t need his attention but gave him an excuse to look away from the pretty mother.
She wasn’t Linda. Hope wasn’t Mandy. Hope was practically an adult and would be out of the house soon, going to college or work. For a brief moment, John could picture himself sitting in a porch swing with Collette gently swaying back and forth, watching the Texas sun set on the western horizon.
As quickly as the image passed through his mind, he mentally erased it. He wasn’t retired yet and deployment was still a given. He refused to hook up with someone only for her to desert him while he was tasked with a mission that took him away for months at a time. He couldn’t go through that again.
He’d looked up Linda a couple years after she’d left with Mandy. She’d married an insurance salesman and had given Mandy a couple of little brothers to herd. John had watched from a distance as Mandy had gotten off the school bus. She’d grown into a beautiful girl with a permanent frown denting her brow. No longer was she the happy little girl he’d taken to the park and pushed on the swing. For all he knew, she could’ve been having a bad day. His heart hurt for what could have been. She could have been his little girl. Now, at thirty-four, he doubted he’d have children. Wasn’t he getting too old?
Again, his gaze went to trailer next door and the window where Collette had been a moment before. She wasn’t there.
He frowned.
“Hey, you’re burning the steaks.” A voice said beside him.
He spun, his hand holding the tongs out like a weapon.
Collette raised her hands. “Don’t shoot. I come in peace.” And she laughed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to sneak up on you. You must’ve been lost in thought. And it couldn’t have been good thoughts based on the scowl on your face.” She set the items she carried on the camp table he’d set up. “Everything all right?”
He nodded, coming back to the present and the grill. “I’m okay. How do you like your steak?”
“Medium,” she said. “Smells amazing.”
