If Tomorrow Never Comes (Harper Falls Book 2) (23 page)

"What I don't understand is why she would keep the picture? She had to know it existed. She's never struck me as the sentimental type. And then to let it out of the house? She had to know I would show it to Tyler."

Dani suddenly felt sick to her stomach.

"She used me."

"I'm afraid so, baby," Alex agreed. "But you couldn't have known. Tyler is your friend, you had to show her the picture."

"And Regina knew that." Dani wanted to get up and pace. She wanted to throw something.

"Here." Alex held up a pillow. "Use it as a punching bag."

Dani shook her head. "Even if I picture that woman's face, it won't help. I need to call Tyler and tell her, apologize."

"Do you think Tyler will blame you? If the circumstances were reversed, would you blame her?"

"No, and no. But I still need to call."

She picked up her phone but called Rose first. After several minutes of mostly listening, she put the phone back down.

"How's Tyler?"

"She's…," Dani shrugged. "She's Tyler. She's strong—she's had to be. But how much is she supposed to take? It isn't fair, Alex. She deserves to catch a break, but none ever seems to come, not when it involves the Harper family."

Noticing the shadows the sun cast through the window, Dani realized it had to be close to seven o'clock. Where had the afternoon gone? She felt the waning, but subtly pounding tension behind her eyeballs and quickly remembered. Time had been flushed away by nasty revelations and an abundance of alcohol.

"Isn't there someplace you need to be?"

Right, he'd forgotten all about the poker game. Frowning, Alex checked his watch, then shrugged. "It wasn't set in stone. I'll just catch them next month."

"You should go." Seeing he was about to protest, Dani quickly added, "I'm just going to veg out here on the couch, watch something mindless and then go to bed. There's no reason for you to stick around and watch. Go, make friends. All you've done since you got to town is work and well, have some mind-blowing sex with me. As great as that is, I think you need to branch out, expand your horizons."

"I've enjoyed the mind-blowing sex
.
But tonight, in deference to the hangover you won't admit you have, I was hoping to just watch that mindless tv with you."

"And then?"

"Dani…"

"You won't stay the night, I get it. I guess I'm lucky you aren't leaving money on the dresser before you sneak out." Dani pulled out of his arms and moved to open the door. "And yes, that was a reference to you treating me as though I'm one step above a hooker. Now go."

"Are you mad at me? Seriously?" For the life of him, Alex had no idea how the conversation had taken a turn into bizarro land. "And a hooker? Really? I've been with hookers; the way I treat you isn't even close."

Alex grabbed his jacket and stormed out, not giving her a second look.

"I said
one step above
a hooker." Dani liked the comeback, but she was talking to air. She would have slammed the door. It seemed like the logical response. As she was about to let it fly, she stopped.
What was she doing?
It
wasn't
logical; none of this was. She threw the door wide open and ran.

"Alex," Dani called out, looking up and down the street. She'd forgotten that he'd driven her home in her car. He didn't have his bike, so he couldn't have gotten far.

"I'm over here."

She swung around to find him leaning against the side of her building. His jaw was clenched, his eyes dark and narrowed. He looked angry, not something she was used to, but she certainly deserved it.

"You don't have any way to get home."

Way to state the obvious, she silently chided herself.

"I called Jack, he's on his way."

"Then I guess I'll just—"

"What?" Alex barked.

"Apologize."

That took the wind out of his sails, and before she could elaborate, he crossed the distance between them, folding her into his arms.

"Thank you," he said, his mouth taking hers.

Dani just held on, kissing him back with every emotion neither of them was ready to speak. Lord, she was grateful that she had followed her instincts and not let him walk away. She would have called him in the morning, contrite. In the meantime both of them would have spent the night angry, stewing over a stupid argument that never should have even happened.

"Come back inside." Dani didn't let go. She whispered the words as she trailed a path of kisses along his firm jawline.

It was tempting, Alex thought. The light touch of her lips would have shaken the strongest man's resolve, and where Dani was concerned, he had very little self-control. But she had been right. He needed to go to that poker game. Not to make friends, but to find a way out of the mess he was mired in. Walking away from Dani, not being able to hold her in his arms—or wake to her precious face sleeping on the pillow next to him? It was hell. He had to find a way out—for them both.

"Tom
is
expecting me." And
would
understand if Alex canceled. He felt like a heel using the other man as an excuse, but desperate times, and all that. "Promise me you're just going to do what you said, veg out the rest of the night, and I'll go. Who knows, I might even win a few bucks."

Just at that moment, Jack's black SUV pulled up to the curb. Alex gave him a wave before taking Dani's hand and leading her back to her open front door.

"Now, go inside, lock the door, and I'll call you in the morning."

Hesitating for just a moment, Dani's green eyes meet his.

"We're good?'

"We're good," Alex assured her. And hopefully, with some advice and a little time, they would be even better.

"SHE WASN'T INTERESTED in you, you stupid bastard, she was giving
me
the eye. I just let you have her 'cause if I'd had to hear one more time about how long it had been since you'd dipped you wick, I'd have taken out my gun and put us both out of our misery."

The table of men burst out laughing, none louder than Jeff Finnegan, the butt of the joke.

"I couldn't care less who she started out wanting, " Jeff said smugly. "By the end of the night she
and
her sister were crying out my name and thanking God for the honor of polishing my sheleighly."

"Ha," Bryon West, scoffed. "I will never buy that there was a sister. That, my friend, you made up."

"On my sainted mother's grave, I spent the night with Dally and Mally, the O'Roarke twins. They still send me a thank you, saying that was the day I ruined them for any other man. Joined the Church the very next week."

Chuckling, Alex picked up his cards. Nothing but junk. He'd won a few hands, lost a few. But the last couple of hours hadn't been so much about poker, as finding camaraderie with a group of fellow vets. As the evening progressed, the stories became broader and harder to believe, the laughter louder and more raucous. He could remember times just like this when he and his Army buddies got together, good-natured ribbing, the more outrageous, the better.

He threw his cards in, ready for a break. Standing, Alex gave his back a stretch.

"I'm going to hit the head, can I get you guys something on the way back?

He got two calls for beer, one coffee, and a club soda. Like Tom had told him, they played the game back in his office, the space plenty big enough for a table and six or seven grown men. But if you wanted a refill, you had to go out to the bar. Tom had learned the hard way about keeping excess beer around the sometimes volatile bunch. The first time he'd had to clean up the dried, sticky stuff from every corner had been the last time. Now it was one bottle at a time, and whoever took a break, replaced the empties. This time it was Alex's turn, and he was happy to oblige.

"Hey, kid," Byron called out. It had been Alex's designated moniker from the moment Tom had introduced him. He supposed it fit. He was the youngest—the rest of the guys being in their forties, fifties, and sixties. "Bring another plate of sandwiches. The last ones disappeared so fast I was lucky to get a crumb and an edge of cheese."

"Just doing you a favor, old buddy, Tina's doing too good a job at keeping you fed."

Alex left, figuring he wouldn't miss much. The same argument, or ones similar, had been going on all evening. He'd just pick up the string when he got back.

Five minutes later, he was behind the bar filling a tray with drinks and grabbing the food from the cooler. Feeling like something salty, Alex took a bowl and filled with peanuts from a nearby jar.

"So, glad you came?"

Alex popped the top on a long neck and handed it to Tom.

"They're a great bunch," he said, taking a drink from his own bottle.

"I know they tend to jabber on, but feel free to jump in any time." Tom gave him a considering look. "Unless you're the shy type."

Alex shook his head. "Not shy, just feeling my way."

"Fair enough." Tom took the plate of sandwiches and lead the way back to the office. "Just remember, it's all very informal. Joking aside, when somebody needs to bring up something heavier, these guys know how to listen."

Alex wasn't sure. It was his first night, after all. But about an hour later, in between hands, there was a rare lull in the conversation and he found the words tumbling out.

"I have dreams, nightmares."

Tom put down the cards, his nod to the other men almost imperceptible. The signal was clear. It was time to shut up—Alex had the floor.

"My last mission went south, I lost half my men and ended up in the hospital for almost a month. Every time the dream starts, I know I'm going to die, that no matter what I do the men I have left are not going home alive. And every time I fight, I fight in my dream, and I wake up fighting."

"But you didn't die," Jeff pointed out. The observation might have been an obvious one, but it needed saying.

"No." Not always much of a consolation.

"Your men?"

"Alive." That was what had kept him going when he'd woken up in Germany, a hole in his side.

None of them asked the particulars; they understood better than anyone not to dig any deeper. They weren't there as investigative reporters, but sounding boards. The details of their stories might be different, but they all understood the war that a soldier brought home with him—the fight that never completely went away.

"I have a lady."

"Kid, if I looked like you I'd have more than one!" Perc Humbolt exclaimed. Happily married for forty years to the same woman, he still liked to live vicariously through the stories of his single friends.

Alex chuckled along with the rest of the men. Taking out his phone he brought up the picture he'd taken of Dani just as they were leaving the Mariners game. Smiling, eyes sparkling, she was a sight to see. He passed the phone to his left, eliciting a whistle of appreciation from Jeff.

"Dani Wilde, you lucky son of a bitch."

"You all know her?" Alex asked, watching as five grown men grappled for the phone.

"Harper Falls is the definition of a small town," Bryon reminded Alex. He pulled his glasses out of his pocket and sighed. "Besides, all that blonde hair on top of being a looker? It would be surprising if we
didn't
know who she was. Man, her eyes are really, really green."

"Can't pull one over on you, Bry." Tom snatched the phone away, giving it a good look before passing it back to Alex.

"I mean, pure green. Not hazel, or that pale, washed out color you sometimes see. A man could get lost for days in eyes like those."

"And that, my friends, was why he was dubbed the poet laureate of the 65th."

"Fuck you, Finnegan."

"She's even more beautiful on the inside," Alex said, almost to himself. "Funny, sweet, kind, and could take down every single one of you old men with one hand tied behind her back."

"That little thing?" Perc scoffed.

"Black belt in Karate."

All eyes turned to Bryon.

"What? I can read. There was quite an article on her in the
Harper Express
when she won the Pulitzer."

"That's right," Jeff nodded. "I remember."

And that set the rest of them off, talking about knowing her parents, what a babe her mother was. All highly entertaining, but of absolutely no help to Alex. Bemused, he exchanged looks with Tom, whose crooked smile spoke of his own amusement. With a slight nod towards the office door, the older man got up and left the room. Alex waited a moment before joining him, wondering if anyone at the table would notice. The answer was no, or if they did, they couldn't be bothered to interrupt their bantering to comment.

"Join me for a cup of coffee."

Tom poured two cups and led the way to the same booth he'd occupied when Alex had first met him. Alex slid in, taking a sip of the hot liquid and grimacing.

"I guess we're switching to the hard stuff."

"House rules, the last hour is booze free and everyone drinks at least one cup of this sludge. Puts hair on your chest if you didn't have any, melts it off if you did. You can dress up the taste if you need to."

Tom pointed to the packets of sugar and little containers of liquid
cream
that could sit out for years and somehow never go bad, but Alex declined.

"So you're afraid of hurting your lady, even though she can take care of herself. You're words, " Tom reminded him.

"In a fair fight, she could do some damage," Alex admitted. "But I'm trained in martial arts, and I outweigh her by almost a hundred pounds. How does she defend against that when she's asleep and completely vulnerable?"

"You've hurt another woman?"

"I—" Alex sighed. "I stopped myself, but she ran from the room screaming. How can I do that to Dani? How can I be sure that some night, I won't be able to stop?"

"I'm guessing you haven't told her any of this."

"Oh, sure," Alex scoffed. "What woman wouldn't rush full steam into a relationship with the potential of
that
on the table?
Hey, baby, at best, I'll punch you in the face, at worst, they'll be fitting you for a body bag."