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“Meaning what?”
“Meaning, if you’re going to get yourself into trouble, I will steer you clear, and I’ll be required to punish you if you get out of line.”
Whoa. What the hell was I supposed to do at this point? Either spend two plus days with Lincoln or obey a gorgeous, rugged man? I’d opt for the latter.
Exhaling, I nodded. Then as he opened the door, I realized I’d just opened Pandora’s Box. I had a terrible feeling my plan would blow up in my face.
* * *
Phoenix
What the hell are you doing?
Not thinking. That’s what I was doing. Why the hell had I agreed to go to some damn wedding? I hated them almost as much as I did wearing a suit. That wasn’t me. My father, on the other hand, flew to Italy to purchase hand-crafted Dolce & Gabbana attire to the tune of twelve thousand a pop.
She had to be at least twelve years younger than me, her perfect face and bright eyes an indication of just how young she was. Hell, it almost felt like robbing the cradle.
I couldn’t seem to get my mind off her for longer than a few seconds during the drive. Her scent lingered on my skin even after taking another shower. She was a feisty little thing, but the fire burning inside of her was almost as bright as the flames I’d just finished fighting.
And spanking her had seemed natural. I wanted to laugh.
I needed to get my head out of the sand.
Women.
Now I knew why I wasn’t good at the dating bullshit. They talked a lot. Too much. But hell, Wren was pretty to look at, and the way she’d felt underneath me, writhing as she moaned had awakened the beast inside. I wasn’t entirely certain I could put him back in the cage at this point.
By the time I pulled into the driveway, I was already second guessing my decision to accept her offer. Hell, I didn’t need the money, although she obviously thought I did. I was playing with the kind of fire that would burn me into ash and somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew better. However, her soliloquy had been endearing, like a deer caught in headlights. Did arranged marriages really exist nowadays?
Old. She’d made me feel old at thirty-five. Sighing, I rubbed my jaw, images of her voluptuous, young body shifting back and forth in my mind. I was a wicked man to be thinking of her with such… hunger.
At least my weekend should prove to be interesting. As long as Mother Nature and the pyrotechnics cooperated, that is. There’d been way too many fires as of late, although most of them were confined to a limited number of acres given the recent wet weather conditions. Still, my gut told me the smokejumping team was in for a doozy of a year, arson on the rise.
I grabbed my bag and jumped out, the front door opening almost immediately. As Justin rushed out without a coat as usual, I knelt down, hoping he’d come and give me a hug for a change. He stopped at the edge of the porch, glaring at me with such hatred in his eyes that it broke my heart every time. I had no business being a father, but neither the kid nor I had any other choice.
“Hiya. Can you give Daddy a hug?”
He never blinked as he stared at me, but finally he stomped down the stairs, which was a huge change from when I’d come home from fighting a fire. When he was within two feet, he wrinkled his brow. “You didn’t come home last night.”
Sometimes, he acted as if he was so grown up, but he had no method of coping after all he’d endured in his five short years on this earth. As Betty walked out on the porch, I glanced in her direction. She’d been a godsend, a woman with the patience of Job. Without her willingness to be flexible in her schedule, I’d never be able to continue being a Zullie.
“Justin. You forgot your coat,” she told him as she held it out.
He didn’t bother looking in her direction or acknowledging her. The poor kid was dealing with such vicious anger issues that his behavior precluded him from joining a kindergarten class. I blamed myself for not taking time off after he’d landed on my doorstep. I’d been in far too much shock over Dahlia appearing after five and a half years, dumping the kid and a single suitcase along with one toy in my lap.
My own fury hadn’t gone away for a two solid weeks.
“You’re right, little man. The snow kept me away.” I balled some in my hand, holding it out, but he stood exactly the same, his stare piercing my soul. When I brushed the snowball against his cheek, he giggled. Only then did he allow himself to throw his arms around me. It was the first time he’d done so. I glanced up at Betty, noticing tears in her eyes. She’d been with me through every struggle, never saying a word when he smashed almost every plate in the house he could get his hands on, using his crayons to write all over the walls.
At least I’d gotten him into a damn good therapy program, but the psychiatrist had told me it would take time, a lot of time.
I picked him up, holding his small body tightly against me. “I drew you a picture,” he whispered.
“You did?” I opened my eyes wide, pulling away so he could see the delight on my face.
He nodded several times as I walked up the stairs, Betty shaking her head. “Let’s get you inside,” I told him before hearing a vehicle pulling up the long gravel driveway. “Go get it for me. Then we’ll have some hot chocolate. Okay?” He nodded, the anger leaving his eyes. After putting him down, I headed back down the stairs. It wasn’t often I had company and I preferred it that way.
As the beat-up old Ford came into view, I took a deep breath. I never knew what to expect from the man. I’d been shocked like the rest of my buddies that he’d returned home alive, his rumored death haunting almost everyone. But he’d changed, just like everyone else who’d served in the military.
