This Time

This Time

Wounded Warrior Book 2

Kristin Leigh

Published 2013

ISBN: 978-1-62210-066-8

Published by Liquid Silver Books, imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 10509 Sedgegrass Dr, Indianapolis, Indiana 46235. Copyright © Published 2013, Kristin Leigh. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

Manufactured in the United States of America

Liquid Silver Books

http://LSbooks.com

This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

Blurb

Tara Marshall has one love: her daughter, Madelynn. For five years she’s loved and nurtured her child alone, abandoned by the man who helped create her. She wants love, craves it, but fears the pain of finding and losing love all over again. And no other man has lived up to the SEAL she fell in love with so long ago.

Mike Davis made the biggest mistake of his life when he denied his own child and left her mother high and dry. He’s never found a woman like Tara again and knows he never will. But staying away from the woman he fell in love with and the child he fathered is what’s best for them…even if he burns for a second chance.

When Mike is injured in the line of duty, he realizes that he has to take a leap of faith, regardless of potential consequences. But after he contacts Tara, Mike comes to understand the love he’s been harboring for so long isn’t just for their daughter; it’s for Tara too. When they meet again, the passion and fire burn as brightly as they did five years before. But with so much time and pain between them, does Mike stand a chance of redemption? And does Tara have enough forgiveness to welcome Mike back into their lives?

Dedication

For Theresa. I’m proud to be your book dealer.

Acknowledgements

Thanks to my own personal Squid for decoding the Navy for this Groundpounder.

Chapter 1

December, six years ago…

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“What?” Tara turned on the barstool, certain the hottie behind her was talking to the hottie beside her. Men didn’t hit on her often, and never men like this: the kind that were so close to being a ten that it was easier to just round up.

“I asked if I could buy you a drink.”

She blinked at him, unsure how to respond to the Vin Diesel look-alike with the brightest green eyes she’d ever seen. He was at least six feet tall too, so she rationalized that at five-feet-five, she couldn’t make out his features well from a sitting position. No man this good-looking ever gave her a second glance. He had beautiful, dark hair, and those eyes…they had to be contacts. No one had eyes that close to emerald green. A square jaw gave him a tough look, kept him from being pretty. And dear God, he was built like a brick shithouse. Solid and muscular—not too muscular, but just right. His biceps filled out his sleeves, and his pectorals were vaguely outlined by the cut of a shirt fitted perfectly.

“Look, let me buy you a drink, and if you decide you never want to see me again by the time you’re done, I’ll scram.”

On second thought, he probably thought she was friends with the blonde bombshell beside her and was using her to get to who he thought was her hot friend. Tara shrugged. Oh well, at least she’d get a free drink out of it before he found out that she had never seen the woman before.

“Sure. Okay. Cosmo.” She turned back around and indicated the empty barstool on the other side of her. He may be using her to get to a more attractive woman, but for a few minutes he was all hers. “Thanks.”

“Sure.” He waved the bartender over and ordered a Cosmo for her and a whiskey and coke for himself. “I’m Michael. Or just Mike. What’s your name?”

“Tara.” She stuck her hand out awkwardly. “Nice to meet you.” The music was loud in the dance club, and she felt silly yelling, but there was no other way to be heard.

“Tara,” he replied warmly, taking her hand, “It’s a pleasure.” Mike grinned and squeezed her hand. “Tara? Like the movie?”

Tara rolled her eyes. It never failed. “Yeah. My mom was a huge fan of
Gone with the Wind
. She always said she wished she’d named my older sister Tara so she could have named me Scarlett.” Tara shuddered. “Thank God she didn’t.”

He continued to hold her hand and smiled again. Tara melted a little. Okay, a lot. But he had the most
gorgeous
eyes.

“Well it’s a beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”

Tara narrowed her eyes. He was laying it on thick.

Mike released her hand as the bartender set their drinks in front of them. He slid some cash across the bar and swiveled on the barstool until he was facing her. Taking a sip of his drink, Mike said, “So where are you from?”

Tara laughed nervously as she picked up her Cosmo. “Right here. Virginia Beach. My dad retired from the Navy here and we just never left again.” She sipped her drink slowly. Better stretch out her time with Mr. Hotness. “What about you?”

“Originally Indianapolis. Moved to Cincinnati when I was ten, though. I joined the Navy right out of high school. Spent a couple of years overseas, got picked up for SEALs, made it through BUD/S, and then got sent here to finish my training.”

Holy shit, a freaking SEAL! That explained the physique. Mike smiled at her, a devastating smile that made Tara’s stomach knot.

“What about you? College, work, military? What do you do?” Mike kept smiling at her as he sipped his drink.

Tara smiled. This was an area she was comfortable with. “I just finished my bachelor’s in early childhood education.” Sip, sip. “I’m working on getting my teaching certificate. I’d like to teach kindergarten. They’re so sweet at that age, and I think I’ll enjoy it.” Sip again, silence. Mike watched her carefully, a small smile playing about his lips, and she caved in to anxiety and kept talking. ”I should be able to start teaching in the next year. If there’s a position open, that is. I’m willing to move anywhere to do it, even though it would mean leaving home.” Tara gulped her drink in an attempt to stop rambling.

Mike smiled at her for a few seconds before gesturing to her now empty Cosmo glass. “Would you like another one?”

Tara stammered slightly. Wasn’t he going to ask about the blonde? She glanced to her right, only to see the blonde was gone. “Uh, sure. Another one would be nice.”

* * * *

Mike woke to non-stop knocking on his barracks room door. He sat straight up and immediately dropped back to the pillow. His head throbbed in time with the relentless pounding.

“Davis! Yo! Wake up, man!”

Mike groaned and rolled out of bed.
Fucking Miller.
What the hell did he want?

Mike stumbled to the door and flung it open, leaning against the doorframe for support.
How the hell much did I drink?

Miller pushed his way inside and looked around. “Where is she?”

“Who?” Mike whispered and rubbed his head.

“The fat girl, man! The one you spent all night getting drunk.” Miller held up his hands and laughed. “Wait. Don’t tell me you couldn’t get her back here.” He laughed and bent over. “Fuck, man, that’s pathetic! Fat girls are a sure bet!”

Mike tensed and felt his face heat. He hadn’t thought Tara was fat. Sure, she wasn’t anorexic like the women Miller lusted after. But she certainly hadn’t been fat. “I put her and her redheaded friend in a cab and sent them home.”

Miller nodded and said, “That’s cool man. Trying to play the gentleman.” He leaned closer and grinned lewdly.

Mike rolled his eyes and gestured toward the door. “Whatever. Look man, I’m hung over as hell. Go somewhere else and leave me alone.”

Miller strutted to the door and said, “Fine, dude. You coming with us tonight? We’re going to the Landing Strip. Bring some ones.”

Mike shook his head. He had a date tonight with Tara, and whether or not he got laid, it was bound to be better than a sleazy strip club. “Nah, not this time. Got a date tonight.”

Miller slapped him on the back and said, “Whatever. Have fun with your fat chick.” Mike resisted the compulsion to punch him. Miller could be such a dick sometimes.

Mike crawled back into bed and jerked the blankets over his head. He lay there for what felt like hours before flopping over onto his back and kicking off the sheets. If he didn’t get something to drink, he was afraid his tongue was going to shrivel up and fall off. He sat up and groaned at the responding thud in his head.
Fucking tequila.
He was never drinking it again. Of course, he’d said that the first time he drank tequila, two years before on his twenty-first birthday. The shit was toxic. And addictive.

Of course, he’d been largely an inexperienced drinker then, so the tequila wasn’t
entirely
to blame. There had been a few times he’d been drunk as a teenager but not many. He’d been raised by his grandmother, a devout Southern Baptist who moved to Ohio when she married at sixteen. Alcohol had never touched his sainted granny’s lips unless it was communion wine. And even that was really just grape juice.

Mike twisted the cap off of a half-empty bottle of water he found in the back of his refrigerator and downed it in two gulps.
Shit, Granny.
He looked at his watch and tried to remember where he’d put his phone. It was Saturday morning, and if he didn’t call her by noon, she’d blow his damn phone up. As though he’d willed it to happen, his phone buzzed from somewhere near the bed. He tossed the bottle in the trash and darted to the bed to find it.

He finally found it humming happily from beneath his pillow.

“Hello?”

“Good morning, Michael.” Her voice was starchy and dry, a testament to how much she’d aged in the years since his parents’ death.

“Hey, Granny. How are you?” Mike wandered back into the kitchenette to look for more water.

“Oh I’m all right. I went to the doctor yesterday. He scheduled a colonoscopy for me…”

Mike stopped listening. He loved his granny, really. She’d taken him in when his parents were killed in a car accident, despite her already declining health. She’d made him cookies and birthday cakes. She’d done her level best to be at every PTA meeting, make each holiday special, and had been the best parent she was capable of being. But he did not want to know about her colonoscopy.

“Michael? Michael, did you hear me?”

“Uh, no, Granny, I didn’t catch that last part.”

She sighed and said, “I asked if you’re done with your training yet.”

“Oh. No, ma’am. I have a few more weeks before I’m officially through.” He spotted a bottle of water hiding behind a six pack of beer and grabbed it gratefully. He purposefully didn’t mention the six-month deployment that would immediately follow the end of his training. No need to remind her of that and worry her even more.

“Are you making friends?”

He swallowed half of the water before responding, “Yes, ma’am.”

She stayed silent for a moment, and Mike rolled his eyes. He knew what was coming. “Are they better than the ones you had in high school?”

One phone call from the cops. That’s all she’d gotten, and she thought he’d been in danger of becoming a hardened criminal. “Yes, Granny, like all the friends I’ve had in the past five years in the Navy, they’re sailors too.”

“Oh, well I suppose they must be good boys. Are they SEALs too?”

“No, ma’am. I don’t have a team assignment yet. I’m sure I’ll make friends when I know which team I’m on.” He wished she’d stop pestering him about it.

“You have to make friends, Michael. I won’t be around much longer, and I don’t want you to be alone.”

“I know. But you’re gonna be around for years.” Mike brushed away the uncomfortable ache that came from thinking of losing his granny. She’d been mother, father, and grandparent to him for most of his life. He’d already lost his parents. He couldn’t lose her too.

“I’m going to try, Michael.” She paused again, and the silence grew uncomfortable. “I’ll let you go, sweetheart.”

“All right, Granny. I’ll call you in a few days.”

“Please don’t party too much. I worry about you.”

“Don’t worry about me, Granny. I’ll be careful. Love you.”

“I love you too, honey. Bye-bye now.”

Mike hung up and grinned. He was partying just the right amount, not too much. He was twenty-three years old. He was serving his country and pretty soon would be putting his ass on the line in a bigger way than ever before. Six more weeks of training and he’d be done; he could carry the title of SEAL. As long as he didn’t fuck up, he’d be on a team by February and shipped out for his six-month deployment shortly thereafter. He was entitled to party, at least a little. And it wasn’t affecting his performance as long as he kept it to a minimum. If having fun began to affect him, though…he was done. He wouldn’t give up being a SEAL for anything.
Anything.