Hero Book 3 - The Battle: Military Romance (14 page)

My jaw dropped. Had he seriously just said that?

“And if Haze doesn't see who you really are, then he's not the man I think he is.”

I opened my mouth to protest that I didn't even know who I was, but then I remembered my idea. I might not know who I was, but I finally had a sense of purpose, and it was one that made me proud. That was, at least, a start.

Chapter 15

Leighton

“If you're worried about the cost of my designs, my family will supply any funds beyond what's already been raised.” I hoped my voice didn't betray the nerves twisting my stomach into knots. “Of course, if you choose to go in another direction, my family will make a generous donation anyway.”

The entire board of trustees for Cedar-Sinai was staring at me. The rehabilitation center wasn't on the grounds and it wasn't technically part of the hospital, but it was linked enough that I had to make my pitch to the board for approval. I didn't really know how all of it worked, but the technicalities didn't matter. Only my designs did.

“You intend to pair with a professional contractor?” one trustee asked, drawing my attention to him.

I met his gaze with a steady one of my own. “Yes, his firm has a long history of working with my family both personally, and for my grandfather's business.”

Looks were exchanged, but I didn't acknowledge them. I knew what they were thinking. To call what my grandfather controlled a 'business' was the ultimate understatement, but I'd been trying very hard to keep the focus on me and not my grandfather's empire.

“You understand our concern at your lack of experience?” a sharp-faced trustee asked. He didn't appear to like me as much as the others did.

I'd known that would be one of their concerns, so I'd already decided on how to handle it. “Yes, I do understand. That's why I plan on presenting my designs to a panel of professionals and top-rated LA designers in order to get feedback.”

I noticed a few approving glances, and while that didn't ease my anxiety, it did give me enough hope to keep my hands steady.

The board president looked through my thin portfolio again, and then leaned back in her chair. “Let me be frank. If we agree, you have to understand that your exposure on the project will have to be limited. We can't risk turning this into a tabloid fodder. You caused quite a stir when you arrived last week,” she said, meeting my eyes. “And that raised a few concerns. But your sincerity and rapport with the patients has made you a valued volunteer.”

My heart was in my throat.

“We reviewed your proposal this morning and voted on it.” She gave me a small smile. “We're very pleased to accept your offer.”

“Thank you!” The words came out in a breathless rush. “Oh, thank you! I won't let you down.” I snapped my mouth shut before I started babbling.

“Thank you, Ms. Machus,” the board president said. “We look forward to seeing the finished product.”

I stood, resisting the urge to hug each and every one of them. I knew the pool for the rehabilitation center was low on their list of priorities, but that’s why I knew I was perfect for the project. It was low profile, so I could focus on what needed to be done and not have to worry about the media.

I felt like I was floating as I walked down the hall. The feeling sustained me during the ride to the center, and kept a goofy smile on my face as I made my way inside.

“They pay you to do that, right?” A voice cut into my cloud, but it wasn't unwelcome.

I slowed down to match my pace to that of the soldier with the walker who was shuffling along to my right. “Pay me to do what?” I asked.

“To smile like that,” he said. “I was almost blinded, but I gotta say, it made me feel good.”

“Shameless flirting, do go on.” It felt good to be able to make someone happy with just my smile. And a real happy, not the fake shit I usually saw with the circle I ran with.

“I've seen you around before, Miss, and I can't help wondering why you're wasting your pretty smiles on us.” The soldier was young, probably close to Ian's age. He had green eyes too, but they were darker green than my brother's.

“Can I confess something?” I asked.

The soldier stopped and leaned close. “Please do.”

As he turned slightly, I saw angry red scars run down the length of his cheek and neck. I had no idea how he'd survived.

I didn't comment on his scars though. “I like it here. I like the people. There aren't any phonies. Is that a terrible reason?” I asked.

He studied me for a moment, and then grinned. “Now I'm going to assume I'm dead, because you have to be an angel.”

I rolled my eyes at him as we started walking again. “You can't be dead, because I need someone to share good news with, and you just happened to be the first person I came across.”

He pushed the walker alongside me and eased forward, his steps shaky. “A pretty smile and a reason to live, if I knew that's what walking the halls would get me, I would've listened to my doctor weeks ago.”

“I'm glad to hear you say that, Billings,” a stocky man in scrubs said as he stepped into the hallway. “Looks like I owe our volunteer a coffee.” He smiled at me. “Please tell me it's not one of the uber-complicated long order drinks with foam on top.”

“You're a doctor and coffee seems complicated?” I grinned back. I'd met Dr. David my first day here. He was one of the Cedar-Sinai doctors who spent a couple days a month at the rehabilitation center, and he was easily my favorite.

Billings laughed out loud and the surprised joy on Dr. David's face warmed my heart. He'd been trying to hide it when he first came into the hallway, but he'd clearly been having a bad day.

“Cream and two sugars it is, Leighton. Just let me walk Billings back to PT.”

“No, don't worry.” I shook my head. “I'm going that way, and Billings has generously offered to listen to me babble about my good news.”

The tired doctor smiled again, and then continued down the hall. I could tell the walk was starting to take it out of Billings, but that didn't stop him from trying to talk to me.

“Alright, lay it on me. I'm ready for the good news.”

“Do you like to swim?” I asked.

Billings looked up, his expression one of confusion before it softened to something wistful. “Yeah, I do. You might not believe it, but I was a state champ swimmer in high school.”

“I believe it,” I said, letting out a low whistle. “Look at those shoulders.”

Billings grinned at me, clearly appreciating my compliment. “Let me guess, the good news is you're going on a cruise, one of those fancy ones where you stop off at islands and get to swim with the dolphins.”

“No,” I said with a laugh. “But that sounds heavenly. Would you do that?”

“I've always wanted to,” Billings said.

I made a mental note to maybe suggest to Grandfather that we start a charity to grant soldiers some of their dreams. “Well, the good news doesn't quite compare to dolphins, but I've been selected to help design the new physical therapy pool.”

“That's great!” Billings said, the warmth on his face genuine as we opened the doors to the main room.

A large work-out space with special equipment and mats, I'd never seen the room not in use. At the moment, four soldiers were spread out, each working on different strength building exercises.

The first time I'd stepped into the room, I'd felt like an intruder. I clearly hadn't belonged, with my high heels and designer clothes. The first soldier I'd met reminded me of Haze though his blond hair had been curly, his eyes a dark blue. It hadn't really been his looks that had made me think of Haze though. It was the way he'd scowled at me until I kicked off my shoes and asked him to show me how the resistance bands worked.

“Back again?”

My favorite curly-haired soldier was sitting in one of the nearby chairs, his prosthetic leg on the floor next to him.

“You know me, Fox. I just can't stay away.” I smiled at him as I walked over.

“You had to bring the shadow again?”

I glanced over my shoulder at my replacement bodyguard. After my kidnapping, Haze had rejected over fifteen candidates before hiring a very surly ex-mixed martial arts champion. He was also the son of one of my grandfather's close colleagues, and his mother was a homicide detective. Haze had drilled the poor man until I'd been sure he'd been ready to break. But he hadn't, and that, I was sure, was the main reason Haze had hired him. I wasn't that fond of him, but I understood the need for him. The soldiers disliked him because they thought they were protection enough. I tended to agree, but my bodyguard gave Grandfather peace of mind.

“Well, I can't leave him in the car. It's too hot out,” I quipped. “Even if I crack the window. It'd be cruel.”

Billings gave me a nod as he headed over to where his physical therapist was waiting. After the first day, I stopped wearing dresses, so even though I was dressed nicely for my meeting, it was easy for me to sit down on the mat at Fox's feet and wait for him to join me.

I stretched with him, but didn't say anything. I knew the physical therapy was painful and, at first, I'd worried that my presence was a hindrance, but the therapists assured me that wasn't the case. The men worked harder with a pretty girl around, they'd said.

As I usually did when I was quiet, I thought about Haze, wondering what he'd been up to over the past few days. Grandfather said Haze was doing some work for him, but I knew they were keeping things from me again. If I hadn't been doing the same thing, it would've bothered me more. As it was, I decided I didn't want anyone to know what I was doing. I didn't want anyone thinking I was doing it to get attention.

I'd sworn my surly replacement bodyguard into secrecy, telling him that he was to keep his reports vague. Both my grandfather and Haze assumed I was back into my old routine of shopping, restaurants, and good times. If Haze found out I was spending my days with veterans, it'd look too much like a desperate ploy to get his attention, when the truth was, what had started out as a coincidence had become much, much more.

I hadn't been lying when I told Billings how much I liked it here. Aside from feeling like I was finally doing something worthwhile, my volunteering with the soldiers made me feel closer to Ian. I missed him so much. It felt good to think I was helping other people's younger brothers. I realized now I'd been horrible and selfish about his re-enlistment. What I was doing now couldn't make up for that, but it could help.

“Leighton?” Dr. Allison, the head physical therapist called my name. “Do you mind walking with Sergeant Tolson? He's got an appointment with prosthetics.”

“Yes, sir.” I got up and winked at Sergeant Tolson.

“She means, you ready to roll with me?” Sergeant Tolson asked as he rolled his wheelchair over. His dark brown eyes were opaque, his smile thin. The pain of what happened to him was written all over his face. Every gesture and word seemed like a preprogramed response, something to make people think he was okay.

“No, no, no,” I said, grinning. “You're not fooling me again. The last time you convinced me to ride on your wheelchair we almost ran over Dr. David. You, sir, roll much too fast for me.”

The other soldiers chuckled and Sergeant Tolson gave the ghost of a real smile. He gestured to the doors and I walked ahead, careful to stop and let him open the door for me. He did it with a set jaw, but I could tell he appreciated that I hadn't opened the door for him.

“Do you know I've never met a Marine before?” I asked.

“Oorah!” Sergeant Tolson said, a bit more life in his voice than before.

We walked along the hallway in silence, and I made mental notes of all the questions I had for Dr. Allison. I needed to know more about the kinds of things the pool would be used for, what I should take into account for my final design.

I was deep in thought about how to improve my volunteering when I stepped around the corner and bounced off a very solid chest. Sergeant Tolson reached out to catch me, his arm going around my waist even as a hand closed on my arm.

“Leighton? What are you doing here?”

Chapter 16

Haze

I
was tired enough that even just the smell of coffee was a welcome boost. Silverlake Java was all white countertops and chrome. Tall windows hinged open to the sidewalk, and every small table was taken by a person with a laptop or two people talking on their phones. The menu was written in thick white marker on a mirror, allowing me to peruse the crowd as I scanned the choices.

The coffee shop was a popular stop for young executives on their way to work, which made me wonder if the person threatening Leighton stuck out or blended right in. The only thing clear in any of this was jealousy, but that wasn't limited to a certain class of people.

The barista definitely stood out, but not because she was extreme. In fact, it was the opposite. Her sleek black hair was twisted into a neat topknot, her white shirt crisp, and her black apron spotless. Instead of dark eyeliner and cat eyes, she only wore a light, glittering smudge of eyeshadow and a bit of mascara. Her dark green eyes were stunning enough on their own, especially against the rich caramel color of her skin.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

I returned her warm smile. “If I say I want a regular coffee, do I get kicked out?”