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After a couple of hours, they decide to take a few minutes to get some refreshments. Ruby volunteers to walk down to the coffee shop about three blocks away and bring back some coffee and snacks. Abigail, Elise, Daisy, and Emma offer to go with her to help carry everything, as Charlotte announces that Hawk, her husband, and several of his men will be arriving soon to help as well.
CHAPTERTWO
Tucker James Evans, Tank to his teammates, takes the steps two at a time as he heads to his bedroom to shower and change out of his fatigues and into some street clothes. He’s just returned from base after debriefing on a mission. As a Marine Special Forces operator, he can be called away at any time with very little notice. That is why at thirty-four years of age, he’s still single. He lives in a large house with his best friend and fellow Marine teammate, Robert Ford a.k.a. Straw.
Things have changed in the last few months, and Tank’s not exactly sure how he feels about it. Straw has been Tank’s closest friend for most of his life. Recently Straw found the love of his life, Abigail. It took some time and patience, but Straw’s finally gotten her to move into the house with them. Tank doesn’t mind that’s she’s moved in with Straw. He likes Abigail and her daughter, Ellie. The child is precocious but is adorable. The little girl has Tank wrapped around her little finger, which is fine with Tank. The little girl is funny and smart. She’s a little tom-boy, but also likes to play dress up and have tea parties. He doesn’t begrudge Straw’s happiness, but it’s made him realize just how lonely he feels.
It seems more and more of the men on his team are settling down for the domestic life, a wife, a home, and children. All things Tank has never considered wanting for his own, but now seeing it play out in front of him has him wishing destiny would send a woman his way. He snorts to himself shaking his head at the thought. Who’s he kidding? Destiny wouldn’t do that to a poor female. He’s too messed up in the head when it comes to relationships. He’s never gotten over losing most of his family at a young age. His thoughts drift back in time. He’d just begun preschool at the time, but he still remembers that day…
* * *
“Tucker!”Tank’s mother calls. Tank is in the backyard playing in the fort he built with the help of his older sister, Serena. He’s having a blast, pretending his fort is under attack. He’s been blasting the enemy with shots from his toy rifle, he’d gotten for his last birthday. He’s had to play alone this afternoon. Serena, being a few years older than his four years, is at school. His preschool class is only half a day. He could have stayed inside to play with his baby sister, Jillian, but she’s been very fussy today. She’s teething, so his mom said. She’s been crying off and on ever since he’s returned home from school.
“Coming!” Tank yells, answering his mother, placing his gun on the little shelf beside the door. He hurries across the yard, leaves crunching under his feet as he runs to the glass, sliding door. “What you want Momma?” he asks as he enters.
“You need to wash your face and hands,” his momma states. “Your daddy will be here in a few minutes to pick us up.” Tank doesn’t want to wash his face or hands. He’s been having fun outside. Why does Daddy have to come home this minute?
“Do I have to?” Tank asks. His mother looks over at him with a stern expression on her face.
“Tucker James Evans don’t be difficult.” His mother’s tone brooks no argument. “We are going to pick Serena up from school. Then we are going to Grandma and Grandpa Evans’ house for supper. Now hurry your daddy will be here any minute. You know he doesn’t like to wait.” Tank heads to the bathroom in the hall. His mother right behind him. She helps him get cleaned up and puts a clean set of clothes on him due to some grass stains on the knees of his jeans. A few minutes later, his daddy arrives.
“Daddy!” Tank runs to jump into his dad’s outstretched arms. The man sweeps him up into the air causing his belly to drop. A squeak of laughter escapes him. His father catches him easily then proceeds to tickle his ribs until Tank can hardly catch his breath. His father finally sets him on his feet before he plants a kiss on Tank’s mother’s lips. Tank is a little jealous of his daddy getting his kisses from his momma, so he runs over to them tugging on his mother’s pant leg. The couple breaks apart to look down at him. His mother’s face is flushed. His father has an amused expression on his face.
“Looks like someone is turning green.” His father observes, then pulls his mother in for another kiss. Tank wonders what his father means. He looks around, but doesn’t see anyone that’s green. His mother is laughing when they stop kissing at last.
“Stop teasing Tucker, James,” his mother scolds. “He’s a momma’s boy, and I’m totally fine with it.” Tank’s father snorts.
“You’re going to make him soft,” his father argues. “He’s going to have to toughen up if he’s going to be a Marine like his old man.” Tank wants to be just like his daddy. His daddy is tall and so strong. His daddy picks him up again. “I’ve got this one, Ilene. You get the baby. We’ve got to get over to the school.” They head out to the car and drive across town to pick up Serena.
A couple of hours later, the family is sitting around Tank’s grandparents’ table. Tank’s belly is full. His grandmother has cooked all his favorites and even gave him a large helping of ice cream for dessert. Before long, his mother declares they need to get going. Jillian is crying again, and his momma wants to get her home and in bed.
“I don’t want to go home.” Serena pouts. Her lower lip jutting out. Tank is ready to go home. He’s getting sleepy now that his belly is full.
“Serena, you have school in the morning,” Ilene states firmly. “I don’t want to have to get up early to drive over here and pick you up before school.” Serena begins to cry, which sets off Jillian again. Tank is looking around at the crying females, wishing they were tough like him so they wouldn’t cry about everything. When they cry, it makes his eyes burn, and he wants to cry too, but daddy says boys don’t cry. Tank rubs at his eyes, sniffing, doing his best not to cry along with his sisters.
“Ilene, let her stay.” Tank’s grandmother intercedes. “I’m volunteering at the preschool in the morning anyway. I’ll take her to school. She has a nice outfit she can wear tomorrow. She left it here the last time she and Tucker spent the night.”
“Oh, all right.” Ilene relents. “Let’s go Tucker. Daddy has to be at base early. We need to get home.” The family carries on to their car and heads toward home. Tank doesn’t remember much after that except for hearing his mother’s scream. His father’s curse and bright lights just before the world exploded around him. Glass breaking, metal tearing, and searing pain in his face, arms, and legs.
* * *
Tank pullshimself from his memories of the worst day of his life. Those are the last memories he has of his mother, father, and baby Jillian. He’d been in the hospital for weeks following the accident. He’d missed the funerals due to his injuries. The head on collision had been horrendous, killing his parents and baby sister on impact. Even all these years later, he wonders why he’d been spared when precious little Jillian hadn’t. She hadn’t been in her car seat. She’d been crying so hard she’d thrown up. Their dad had pulled off onto the shoulder of the road so their mom could clean her up. That’s when the drunk driver had hit them. Killing everyone in both vehicles except for Tank.
Over the years since Tank has been careful not to allow himself to care too much for anyone. The pain of loss is just too great. He doesn’t think he can endure losing another person he loves. He’s been lucky that his grandparents have such longevity. They are both in their early eighties but still going strong.
Tank thinks again about finding a woman but knows not only is he reluctant to allow someone close, but his appearance is scary to most men much less women. The accident had left him with not only a reluctance to get close to people but also left him with facial, arm, and leg scars. Add those ugly features to his six foot six, over large frame and what you have is intimidating, especially with all his muscles. His shoulders are nearly as wide as the average door frame. Topping the scales near three hundred pounds, he’s bone and muscle. A beast. There’s no fat on his body. He’s not boasting; it’s just a fact.
In his room, he quickly sheds his clothes, throwing them in the hamper just outside the door to his en suite bathroom. Entering the opulent bathroom, he looks around at the expensive garden tub with the awesome jets, which soothe his aching muscles after some hard training. There’s a huge walk-in shower with multiple shower heads, two that are detachable. The counter with his and hers sinks takes up most of one wall. The room is a place for a couple, not a single man with little hope of finding someone to share his life with. His loneliness tries to rear its ugly head again, but he tamps it down.
Instead he decides to think just how lucky he and Straw have been to get this house. It’d been a foreclosed home, and the bank had been itching to get rid of it. Both men have been very frugal over the years with their money. Tank’s grandfather has a close friend who is a financial advisor. The man has helped Tank and Straw invest their money wisely. The stock market took a turn for the worse a few years ago, and he let them know what money to pull out and where it would be the safest. When this house became available, the man said it was a sound investment, and so they’d bought it planning to remodel and rent rooms out or sell it when the market improved. However, once they began working on it, they decided they’d rather live in it themselves for the time being and decide later what to do with it.
Tank and Straw had worked on it every spare moment they’d had between deployments and training sessions. It took a couple of years, but they’d made it into their dream luxury home. Both men are so invested they can’t stand the thoughts of letting strangers live in the house they’ve invested so much time and effort into. So they’d moved in and made a steadfast rule: no women for sleep overs. They’d decided only once they were in a serious committed relationship would they bring a female into their home.
Neither man had brought a woman into their home until Straw found Abigail. Since she and Ellie are living with Straw, Tank feels like a fifth wheel. His friend, nor Abigail have done anything to make him feel that way, it’s just how he feels seeing them forge a relationship and a family. Tank is more than happy for them, but he just wishes there was someone out there for him, too. Shaking his head to clear his tangled thoughts, he throws up a silent prayer.Let me find her…soon. I know she’s out there.
Stepping into the shower under the hot spray of water, he makes quick work of washing away the dirt and sweat of his day. His muscular body is sore from the intense training session they’d undergone today. Readying for the next deployment, he’s pushed himself harder than usual, and he’s paying for it. He has to admit, he’s not as young as he used to be, and he realizes as the years pass, it’s going to get more and more difficult to bounce back after an injury. He wonders how Hawk had managed to keep deploying well into his forties. It’s something to think about for another time, though. He has places to be.
An hour later, Tank and his teammates arrive at “A Place to Call Home” in a couple of large SUVs. They pull into the parking lot behind the shelter. The men roll out of the vehicles and head toward the shelter. They are a group of large, muscled, intimidating looking men. They’re take-no-prisoners, badass Marine Special Operators a.k.a. ‘Raiders’. If you met them on the street, or worse in a dark alley, you would want to turn and go the other way. They move as a group, falling into a coordinated pattern, constantly scanning their surroundings, hyperaware of any threat that might be lurking it the shadows. Even on American soil, they keep their guard up. Always prepared. Always watching.
