Last True Hero (6 page)

T
his beach cottage that Dare splits with Drake may be the cutest thing I've ever seen. I've always lived in large houses. Not mansions, because although my family is well-off, we're still a military family. But houses way bigger than our family of three would ever need.

This little beach cottage is a delicious change of pace, and my idea of perfect bliss in my perfect little town.

My voice is breathy when I say as much to Dare. “It's amazing. It's beautiful. It's
perfect
.”

He turns; he's just gotten me down from the seat of his truck. I will never tell him this, but no one has ever done anything as sexy as physically lift me into the seat of his car before. And then actually buckle me up. When his hands wrapped strongly around my waist, my exposed skin broke out in goose bumps and a hot flush began rising somewhere deep in my belly.

“Yeah? I'm gonna go out on a limb here and guess that this house is nowhere near the size of yours.”

I nod. “That's why it's so perfect.”

He cocks his head to the side, his expression quizzical. “I'm trying my damnedest to figure you out.”

“How's that going for you?”

“Let's just say I'd fail my first exam.”

I pat him on the shoulder and walk past him. “Keep trying, Dare.”

We decide to bypass the interior of the house, although one day I hope I can have a tour, and walk around to the back.

It's plain and pleasant. There's a massive deck with a huge gas grill and some comfy-looking seating. Beyond that, the yard is mostly sand with clusters of sea grass sticking up sporadically. A wooden path leads down to a walking/running trail and just beyond that? The ocean.

I sigh. My entire body relaxes at the sight of it.

“You like it?” Dare's voice is closer than expected, and I start at the sound of it. When I look up, he's right next to me, looking down at my expression. My face heats.

“It's…”

“Perfect?” He finishes with a grin.

I accentuate my accent. “Why, look at you, it's our first date and you're already finishing my sentences.”

He rolls his eyes and groans. “I'm not going to embarrass myself by telling you how crazy that damn accent makes me. Okay?”

My face breaks into a smile. He's…irresistible. All that long, dark hair and those clear green eyes staring right through me. How can a guy be cute and hot at the same time? Shouldn't that be freaking illegal?

“There's some chairs down there, on the sand. Shall we?”

When he holds out his arm like an old-fashioned gentleman, I can't do anything but grin and take it. The gesture is so out of place with his long hair and visible tattoos that I chuckle softly as we walk.

When we're settled on the sand in two lime-green Adirondack chairs, our beers in hand, we're blanketed by the most relaxing sounds on the planet. The ocean begs the shore for admittance, and the sand sends the waves rolling away every time. And beyond that…silence.

Glorious, peaceful silence.

Dare gives me a good ten minutes of it before he breaks it.

“I can't believe I live here.”

I glance at him, startled. His head is resting on the back of his chair, his eyes open and staring at the velvety sky above us.

My reaction to his words is confusing the hell out of me. On the one hand, I thought he was temporary. Visiting his friend, maybe on leave. As tough a time as I'm having fighting the instant attraction I feel for him, I was relieved to think it wasn't going to take me over. I mean, shoot…I can deal with anything for a little while, right?

On the other hand, the thought of him leaving makes me…sad. Already, I like spending time with him. I like seeing his face in my places…the restaurant, my auto shop. I'm picturing what other places he can occupy.

I shake my head of all of these thoughts, because he just said he
lives
here.

“You live here?”

He turns his gaze on me, raising one eyebrow. “You didn't know that? I literally live
here.
In Drake's house. I'm a recent addition to Lone Sands.”

I'm quiet, returning my gaze to the ocean. It's safe to look at the ocean. There are absolutely no surprises there. It always does just what it's supposed to do. Waves roll in, waves roll out.

I have a feeling Dare isn't ever going to do what I expect. And what a scary, scary feeling! Scary slash exhilarating.

“Hey, Berkeley? What are you thinking?”

I pinch a piece of hair between my fingers and twist. “I'm declining to answer that question on account of us barely knowing each other.”

He chuckles and runs one hand absently along the side of his opposite rib cage. “I deny your decline on the basis that I want to
get
to know you.” Then he grasps another strand of my hair in his fingertips and rubs his fingers together, gaze locked on me.

I close my eyes briefly, tamping down on the surge of heat pooling in the center of my body. I also fight the urge to writhe uncomfortably in my Adirondack chair. He makes me feel…hell, I don't know. He just makes me
feel.

My
God.

I notice a silver chain dipping down beneath the collar of his shirt, and I grab hold of the distraction like a lifeline. I reach out, taking the chain gently in my fingertips, and look up at him.

“May I?

He nods slowly, his gaze boring into mine. Out here in the darkness, where the only light comes from the floodlight on the homes behind us and the moon, his eyes are almost iridescent. The effect is mesmerizing, and I falter as I fall into his eyes.

Then I pull his silver dog tags from beneath his shirt. The metal is warm from his skin, hot really. I turn the metal over in my fingers, and I know that I'm touching something that's an extension of his body. I know it, and he knows it, and his eyes are so intent on my hands that I can literally feel them burning my skin.

“‘Dare Conners,'” I read. “Wait a second, Dare is your
real name
?”

He chuckles. “I'm full of surprises for you tonight, aren't I? You thought it was a nickname?”

“Well,
yeah
! I didn't think anyone would actually be named after the action of boldness!”

His laughter turns to a full-fledged roar that rivals the sound of wind rushing in your ears during a run. The sound surrounds me.

“What the hell were your parents thinking?”

His laughter doesn't cut off abruptly, but it trails away, and I'm left wondering what I just said.

“I wouldn't know,” he answers quietly.

He offers nothing more. I stare at him for another second, then replace his tags under his shirt. My fingers linger on the skin at the top of his chest. “I'm sorry.”

He nods. “Don't be.”

We let the silence wash over us once again.

I glance at him out of the corner of my eye after a few minutes. I want to know. I want to know the answers to all of the questions lurking behind those beautiful eyes of his. And so I know it's time for me to go.

“Dare…”

He looks over at me, his hands clasped behind his head. “Berkeley.”

Dammit. Does he somehow know I have trouble continuing to speak when he says my name? Does he
know
?

“Thanks for the beer,” I say, sitting up.

He doesn't. “You're welcome. Are you leaving me so soon?”

No
. “Yep.”

His mouth turns down, and I keep my hands firmly in my lap so that I don't brush a finger across his full bottom lip.

A low rumble of thunder rolls around us, and I glance up at the sky. A storm is obviously on its way. When I look back at Dare, his gaze hasn't moved from mine.

“Dare…”

He begins shaking his head before I've even begun my letting-him-down-easy speech. Does he read my mind, too?

“This has been a really great night…”

His hand on my chin stills me. It stills my thoughts and it stalls my words. I'm helpless with his hand on me.

“Don't do that,” he says softly. “Don't give me your ‘let-him-down-easy' speech. Let's pretend we've moved past that, okay? You don't want to do this again, then tell me the real reason. I don't do bullshit.”

He releases my skin, but there's a burning in the spot now that wasn't there before.

It takes me a moment to find my voice, and Dare waits patiently while another rumble of thunder rolls over our heads.

“I'm…I'm super attracted to you, Dare. But I'm not available to date right now. I'll probably never be available to date. It's…complicated.”

“You have a boyfriend.” He says it like a fact, not a question.

“I do not have a boyfriend.” It would have been the easy way out. I could have just let him believe that, but I find myself unable to lie to this sharp, sexy, honest man.

He stares at me, his expression unreadable. He rubs his rib again, and I allow my eyes to travel to that spot. He notices, and stops rubbing. When he speaks again, his voice hasn't changed. It's still soft, and still like a rough edge of a stone left out in the wind.

“So…you just aren't that into me.”

I wish he'd stop searching for reasons. “Some things just aren't going to work out.”

“I didn't ask you to marry me, Berkeley. I didn't even ask you out on a second date yet.”

I raise my eyebrows, and he quickly regroups. “I was going to. Shit, of course I was going to. But, if you don't want to hang out again, I guess I have to accept that.”

I
so
don't want him to accept it. But I nod my head, just as the sky above us opens, and we leap out of our chairs and sprint for the house.

By the time we reach it, we're soaked. We run around to the driveway, where Dare's truck is parked, and he helps me in and buckles me up while the rain pelts him.

When he finally makes it to the driver's seat, he's laughing. He runs his hands through his sopping wet hair, and I realize mine must look like a wet dog. Groaning, I pull out my hair tie and shake my mess of curls out around my shoulders.

“Shit! I didn't realize it was supposed to rain tonight.” He scrubs his face with his hands, and then turns to face me. “I'm—”

He freezes when he looks at me, and my suspicions are confirmed. I'm definitely the hottest mess he's ever seen. My hair is flopping everywhere, and I'm sure the small amount of makeup I had on my face now looks like I'm starring in
The Walking Dead.

But that doesn't matter. I just told him I couldn't see him again. Who the hell cares what I look like?

The way he's staring at me is causing my new pets, my butterflies, to take furious flight and my heartbeat to speed up at an alarming pace.

Then he reaches out and brushes that stupid strand of hair out of my eyes. The one my mother can't stand.

“I love this,” he says. “I might as well tell you, seeing as how I won't get the chance again.”

His finger follows an invisible trail along my cheek, pausing at the hollow beneath my eye. “And these. I fall into these every single time they're focused on me. It scares the shit out of me. And nothing scares me, Berkeley.”

My breath is gone. I've lost it somewhere between his finger tracing a path on my face and the beautiful words he's speaking. About
me
.

His finger changes trajectory, trailing down until he reaches my lips. Which are probably trembling. “Do you know how long I've been looking at these? All fucking night. All night tonight, and every other time I've been in your vicinity.”

His eyes drop to my lips then, and he uses his thumb to part them. Hot lava flows from my core into my every extremity until I feel like I must be catching fire. He's setting me aflame. His touch, his words, those eyes on me. I can't contain the desire that wells up inside me.

“Dare.” I breathe.

His eyes flicker back up from my lips. “Berkeley.”

“I guess if you're going to kiss me, you'd better do it now. You might not get another chance.”

His hand curls around the nape of my neck, and I shudder. Hadn't I pictured what it would feel like if he touched me like this? And now I know…it's heavenly and sinful all at the same time. It's hot and…

His lips crash against mine and
Oh my God.
Hot lava turns into massive, five-alarm flames, and I moan against his mouth. Shit! I didn't mean to do that.

His tongue finds my bottom lip and traces a line across it, before finding the seam and nudging my mouth open. My lips part for him so easily I'm terrified my legs will do the same if he asks me. His other hand is tangled in my hair, and even though his hands aren't on my body I can feel it tingling and buzzing in response to his lips alone.

When our tongues tangle together for the first time, he makes an appreciative noise in the back of his throat, which sends me spiraling into a sexy haze of want and need. Then he slows down, exploring my mouth for another second before pulling back altogether.

His face is inches from mine, his eyes staring so intently I could melt beneath that gaze.

I sigh, counting to ten exactly like my mother does when she's frustrated. Then I raise one hand and waggle my fingers at him.

“What are you doing?” he says with a smile.

“Putting another spell on you with my evil vixen siren song.”

His chuckle is low, husky. I'm in such big trouble.

“I knew it!”

Then he drives me home, and I squeeze my thighs tightly together in order to release some of the tension this soldier has just created.

Trouble. Capital freaking
T
.

T
he incoming call is from Chase, and I curse when I read his name.

I've been dodging his calls for a week. It's been…difficult to figure out how I can help him out of his latest pile of shit when I can't stop imagining being holed up in my truck, pressed up against a very wet Berkeley.

Groaning, I roll my head back and stare at the ceiling.

The call goes to voice mail, and I glance down at my phone as it buzzes with an incoming text.

“What are all those faces about?” asks Drake.

“My brother is at it again.” I lean back in my chair, glancing up at Drake where he stands, grilling steaks on the deck.

Drake jerks around to look at me. “Chase?”

I nod.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “What'd he do this time?”

I pause, because I don't know exactly what Chase did this time. I haven't called him back yet.

“I only know he needs money. Trouble with some dudes back in Florida.”

Drake curses again. “You need to stop bailing his ass out, Dare.”

“He's my brother. What am I supposed to do? He says it's bad.”

“Of course it's bad. Nobody comes to collect unless you owe them big. Chase is into the worst kind of bullshit, Dare. You gotta cut him loose. He's not gonna learn. He's not gonna change.” Drake has completely abandoned the grill in favor of a stern look in my direction, and wispy, fragrant smoke is billowing into the evening sky.

“I'll figure it out, Drake. I'll figure something out.”

“You got hella cash saved, and it's for you. Your life. Don't blow it on him.”

I nod. “I won't.”

He turns back to the grill. “You seen Berkeley since you two went out?”

There it is. A stab of longing in my gut so sharp, I glance down expecting to see blood. I've managed to go all week without speaking her name, but Drake was about to ruin that.

“Nah.” Even though my answer is neutral, the pang in my chest is anything but.

“She wasn't all she was cracked up to be once you got her alone?” He flips the steaks.

I suck in a breath. I'm pretty damn sure she's
more
than I imagine her to be. Judging from one kiss, she's fucking lethal. A kind of lethal I've never dealt with. Berkeley isn't in my wheelhouse.

I haven't been able to decide what I'm going to do about her. There's no way in hell I'm just going to let her write me off after what happened in my truck when we got drenched. I don't know what she meant by “not available,” but that kiss said it all. I need more of Berkeley. And I'm not going to let her brush me off that easily. Not when I don't even know the real reason.

The E.V.S. Recovery mission begins tomorrow. There's no way in hell I'm letting that evil vixen siren just walk away from me.

When I start awake, golden sunlight is streaming in through my window and my sheets are twisted and sticking to me. I half-crawl, half-slide over to the window to peek through the blinds. The ocean greets me a mere football field away, lapping gently against the shore, and I gape in disbelief. Then my mind begins to clear, and I realize I'm in Lone Sands.

My time in Africa haunts me. But only in my dreams. I've conquered the beast during the daytime, but I can't seem to control my nightmares. I squeeze my eyes shut, willing the memories to fade, and I suck air in through my nose, then push it out through my mouth.

I plant my feet on the floor and let my head fall into my hands. When I feel calm enough to rise, I pad barefoot, only wearing the boxer briefs I sleep in, across the hall to the bathroom where I take a piss and wash my face. My eyes are bloodshot when I glance at my reflection, and I realize that it's going to take more than a rinse to wash away the stink of my demons.

I pull on a pair of workout shorts and head to the garage, where Drake has a gym set up. I tape my hands and pull on a pair of boxing gloves.

Then I proceed to pummel the shit out of a heavy bag, punching it as hard as I can until my breath comes in heavy gasps and sweat pours off my body.

An hour on the bag, thirty minutes lifting free weights, and I'm good to go.

I've never been a trusting person. Growing up in foster care after losing both your parents in a car accident at the age of seven will do that to a kid. But after what happened to me behind enemy lines in a continent where I had no friends, aside from the men I lost and the ones I couldn't make it back to, that almost broke me. It leveled my body and murdered my spirit. I clawed my way out, but only a shell of the Dare I used to be returned from that hellhole.

And the tiny amount of trust I'd built with the army?

Gone.

So I don't know why I've decided to pursue Berkeley, a girl I've met a handful of times and been on one date with. Something about her just soothes my soul. And a soul like mine needs a salve.

Somehow, I know I can't trust her not to reach into my chest, pull out my heart, and crush it in her fists.

But I can't walk away.

An hour later, I push open the door to See Food. Freshly showered but not shaved, I smile at the lady who I've gathered owns the place, and she comes rushing forward.

“Table for one, sweet thing?”

I give her a grin, nodding. “Thanks.”

“I take it you'd like to sit in Berkeley's section?”

Nodding again, I wink at her. “Am I that transparent?”

She tucks a strand of her short, black hair behind her ear and nods. “As a window.”

She seats me and leaves, and I wait while my heart thumps forcefully against my ribs.

I see her before she sees me, coming around the corner from the kitchen, her arms laden with plates for one of her tables. My eyes stay locked on her perfect form as she carefully maneuvers around the restaurant until she's just five tables away. She still hasn't seen me, so I have time to thank God for creating cutoff jean shorts that show me every delicious, curvy inch of Berkeley's legs, and to marvel at the fact that I know what her full, strawberry-colored lips taste like.

She smells like roses, but she
tastes
like tangy, sweet marmalade.

When she finishes delivering her food, she turns to my table, to me, and freezes. Then she straightens, pulls the stunned look from her expression, and walks casually over to my table.

I smile up at her. “Hey, Berkeley. How's the shrimp today?”

Her eyes narrow. “Fancy seeing you here, Dare.”

I thought this would be difficult, but now I can see that it's just gonna be fun. “I'm eating. Isn't this still a restaurant?”

She shifts, calling attention to her legs again, and my eyes betray me as they leave her face to trail over her body.
Fuck
, her See Food shirt today is a ribbed tank with a picture of a crab on the front. The tight fabric accentuates her generous rack, sitting high on her chest as if on display. I swallow.

“Yeah, but why
this
restaurant?”

“Because you're here,” I say simply.

Her lips part, but no words escape, and I turn my attention to my closed menu. “You already know what I want, right?”

I'm aware this statement has two possible meanings, and I wonder which of them she'll answer.

She glances at the door to the kitchen, like she's considering dumping my table onto someone else. But since the only other waitress I see running around is her boss, I doubt it'll happen. Her gaze shifts back to mine, and I hold it, hoping she can read my intentions in my eyes.

I'm here for you, Berkeley. Only you.

She sighs. “Okay. I'll bring you your usual.”

As she turns, I reach out and grab her arm. She stiffens, turning to face me. “No Killian's. It's kinda early. Just bring me a sweet tea.”

She nods and walks away. I smile.

When she returns with my drink, her boss is on her heels. “Break time, Berk.”

She whirls, a glare on her face. “But I just—”

The lady, who has a bouquet of flowers in her future from a grateful ex-Ranger, shakes her head. “Sit. Have lunch with your friend. I got it covered, and Daniella will be here any minute.”

Berkeley glances between her boss, and me and blows the stray piece of hair I've grown to love so much out of her face. “Fine. Have Boozer make me a crab cake. Thanks,
Lenny.
”

Yeah, thanks, Lenny.

She sits down across from me, her mouth set in a stubborn line.

“Lucky turn of events,” I offer.

She holds her angry stare for about another five seconds before it crumbles, and she bursts into laughter. It's infectious, and I'm laughing, too.

“How'd you pull that off?”

I shrug, eyeing the dark shadows beneath her eyes with a frown. She hasn't been sleeping?

“Maybe I've picked up a little of your siren magic.”

She leans forward, placing her elbows on the table, and giving me a clear shot at her cleavage, which I take advantage of. When I meet her eyes again, she's staring at me with a mixture of frustration and curiosity.

“I thought I made it clear last week. I thought you got the message, since I haven't seen you since.”

“You haven't seen me since because I've been strategizing. I didn't get any message, other than when we kiss, the whole fucking world stops moving. So we shouldn't
stop
kissing. We should kiss
more.
”

Her eyes drop to my lips, and I go instantly hard in my jeans.

She does that to me with a
look.

Sexy siren indeed.

“So, what? You're just going to keep coming in here until I kiss you again?”

“If that's what you want.”

She shakes her head, and I change the subject.

“You haven't been sleeping well. Is something stressing you out?”

The bluntness takes Berkeley aback, her eyebrows twitch in surprise. “How did you know—”

I just wait, toying with the straw on my tea while I read her face.

Finally, she sighs. “My parents want me to move out to San Diego. My dad's a pretty powerful guy, and he's making all kinds of arrangements without my consent.”

My chest clenches as my heartbeat kicks up. “Why would he do that?”

She hesitates, averting her eyes. “I told you I'm not available, didn't I? My life is…complicated.”

“If you don't want to go, you just don't go. That's pretty simple.”

“Yeah.” She sighs. “That would be pretty simple, except you don't know my father.”

That's true, I don't know her father. Right now, I'd really like to meet him, though. Because it's really, really crazy, but I
don't want her to go.

It must show on my face, because hers softens. “I'll think of something.”

My lip twitches, and my chest expands.

Suddenly, she reaches for my arm across the table. “I've been dying to read this.”

I glance down, and her fingertips are burning into my tattooed arm. The heat spreads, traveling through the limb and beyond. “Go ahead.”

Her lips move minimally as she reads the cursive script, and I add it to the list of “Berkeley's Adorable Character Traits” that I'm building in my head.

“‘My Country, My Sacrifice, I Protect What's Mine.'” Her eyes are serious when they meet mine again. “That's beautiful.”

I shrug again. “It's true.”

We sit, locked in each other's gazes for about a minute before Lenny brings us heaping plates of food.

“You can't survive on just a crab cake, sweetie,” she chides Berkeley gently.

She's loaded Berkeley's plate with not only two crab cakes, but also hush puppies, succulent-looking asparagus spears, and a baked potato.

Berkeley rolls her eyes but smiles warmly at her boss as she retreats.

“She's nice,” I remark. “Treats you like family.”

Berkeley nods. “She's been a second mom to me ever since I started working here. When I was seventeen, I needed a home away from home. She and Boozer gave me that, and I've loved them ever since.”

I nod, and we eat in comfortable silence. I know how hard it is to achieve comfortable silence with someone, because I've only ever experienced it a couple of times. Drake and I can go hours without talking, while sitting in the same room. Neither of us is bothered by it in the least. And Chase, when we're on good terms. We don't need words to have a conversation.

Berkeley makes these little noises of satisfaction when she eats that are slowly driving me insane. She seems to live so fully, appreciating everything she gets like it's the last time she'll ever get it. I'm having a hard time keeping my eyes off of her.

When she finishes, she pushes her plate a few inches away from her and sits back in the booth. I sigh with relief, because I don't know how much more of her sexy, unabashed eating I was gonna be able to take.

“You have the day off from the garage?”

I nod. “Yep. I have every Sunday and Monday off. Why, are you free?”

She gives me a warning look. “Dare—”

I wave her off. “I know, I know. Unavailable.”

I lay enough money on the table to pay for my meal, and then I stand up.

A shadow crosses her face, and I almost park my happy ass right back in the booth. “You're leaving?”

I nod. “I think I've worn out my welcome for the day. I'll see you tomorrow, Berkeley.”

Her brow furrows. “Tomorrow?”

“Are you working?”

She nods.

“Then I'll be here on my lunch break.”

I check my phone on my way out to my truck. One text message, from Chase.