Marrying Emily (Delta Force Heroes Book 4) Read online

  As she cleaned up and got dressed, Emily giggled, suddenly realizing that Fletch had made love to her still wearing his boxers and socks. There were worse things in life than having a man so in love with you he couldn’t even wait to get all the way undressed before he had to take you.

  An hour later, Emily was laughing with Rayne and Harley as she drank a mixed drink. She had no idea what it was, but the bartender they’d hired for the reception had been given strict orders to make sweet alcoholic drinks for the ladies, and to keep the beer flowing for the men. And so far, he’d been doing an excellent job, even going so far as to make Annie and Akilah virgin versions of the cocktails the adults were drinking.

  Emily’s eyes wandered the backyard, smiling at each group of people she saw. The day had been great, but the evening had been perfect. Seeing all the men and women who were involved in both her and her husband’s lives was amazing.

  Fletch had hired a lawn company to overhaul the yard and make it both presentable and comfortable. They’d mowed the grass, added a firepit with a few benches, and an awning to the porch. It looked professional and neat…it was a perfect setting for their reception as well as the many barbeques they liked to throw.

  Most people were wearing jeans or cargo pants and either T-shirts or polos. Emily was wearing a black pair of slacks and a long-sleeve purple shirt. It was silky and every time Fletch put his hands on her, the material slid along her skin sensually.

  It was a laid-back setting and everyone was smiling and laughing. Emily looked over to where Fletch was sitting and caught him grinning back at her. She lifted her chin at him, and ran her fingers up and down the collar of her shirt, teasing him. His eyes narrowed at her actions and she laughed.

  “Would you quit teasing the poor man,” Rayne said, exasperated.

  “But it’s so much fun,” Emily responded, tearing her eyes away from Fletch with difficulty.

  “Who are the men he’s talking to again?” Harley asked.

  “Those are the SEALs,” a feminine voice cut in from their right. It was Penelope, the firefighter from San Antonio. “They were the men who rescued me from Turkey.”

  “Ah.” Harley nodded.

  “I’m Penelope,” she told Emily and Harley. “We haven’t met yet.”

  The three women all shook hands.

  “It’s really good to officially meet you,” Emily told her. “I’ve heard a lot about you from Fletch and the other guys.”

  Penelope wrinkled her nose, then smiled.

  “All good, promise,” Emily reassured her.

  “The SEALs also paired up with our Delta guys when that shit went down in Egypt,” Rayne chimed in after the introductions were done. “I vaguely remember them from when I was rescued, but honestly, it’s all pretty much a blur. How are you doing?” Rayne asked Penelope gently. They’d gotten together and talked, having being kidnapped in common.

  The smaller woman shrugged. “Some days are better than others.”

  “Who’s the hottie fireman who’s barely left your side since we got here?” Emily asked her with a smile.

  Penelope looked around unconsciously, finding Tucker “Moose” Jacobs across the lawn. He was talking with TJ and looking extremely relaxed. Though he still had on the black slacks he’d been wearing at the ceremony, he now had on a navy-blue T-shirt with a small Station 7 Firestation logo on the left breast. “It’s not like that,” Penelope protested somewhat weakly.

  “Riiiiiiight,” Rayne drawled. “Just as it’s not like that between Mary and Truck…right?” She gestured to the couple sitting off to the side, having what looked like an intense conversation.

  Penelope shrugged, but she had a small smile on her face. “Moose thinks I’m weak and need my hand held all the time. Even though I was a soldier and have been a firefighter forever.”

  “I don’t believe he thinks you’re weak,” Harley noted seriously. “I don’t know you, but from an outsider’s view, it looks to me more like he’s standing by your side just in case you need him. He comes across as watchful as opposed to anything else and lets you do your own thing more often than not. And if I can tell you’re struggling with demons, he can too.”

  No one said anything for a moment, and finally Penelope demurred, “I’m not weak, but I have to admit there are times when my demons overwhelm me. A couple of times it’s happened when he’s been around.” She looked down and played with the condensation on her glass. “He was…helpful.”

  The women nodded, knowing exactly what Penelope was talking about. They’d all been there. “Thank you for coming up,” Emily told the other woman, putting a hand on her arm. “I’ve heard about you from Rayne so it’s great to finally meet you in person.”

  “Your husband is a wonderful man,” Penelope told her. “I’ll never be able to thank any of them enough.”

  “None of them expect thanks,” Rayne said matter-of-factly.

  “I know, but I like to say it nevertheless.”

  All the women nodded in agreement. They’d never be able to repay the Deltas. Ever.

  Truck leaned into Mary and asked, “What did the doctor say?”

  Mary shrugged and refused to meet Truck’s eyes. “Nothing new.”

  “What does that mean?” Truck insisted, putting his large hand on her knee.

  She finally looked at him and did her best not to cry. This was Emily’s wedding. A happy occasion. Not time for her to burst out in tears. “They’re still doing tests, but he’s pretty sure the cancer has returned.”

  “You need to tell Rayne,” Truck said gently.

  Mary shook her head vigorously. “I can’t. I can’t do that to her.”

  “Why not? She’s your best friend. She’d do anything for you.”

  “I know she would, but I don’t want her to. I think my having cancer hurt her more than it did me. She was so devastated and stuck by me every step of the way. She took time off from work that she couldn’t afford to lose because she refused to let me go to any of my appointments by myself. I leaned on her way too much, and I don’t want to be that kind of friend ever again. The type who takes more than she gives.”

  “You give more than anyone I’ve ever known,” Truck told her gently.

  Mary shook her head sadly. “No I don’t. Look how mean I always am to you.”

  “I can take what you dish out, Mary,” Truck said. “I actually find it refreshing that you aren’t scared of my looks or size like most people are.”

  Mary looked across the lawn to where Rayne was standing talking to Emily, Harley, and Penelope. “I’m not scared of you, Truck. There are worse things to be afraid of in this world, but I shouldn’t be such a bitch.”

  Truck took her chin in his hand and turned her face to his. “Can I be honest?”

  Mary eyed the large man in front of her. Her skin tingled where his fingers touched her. Every time he did she felt electrified. She wanted this man more than she’d ever wanted anything in her entire life. But she couldn’t have him. She had no idea if she’d be alive in the next year, so there was no way she could start anything with him. It wouldn’t be fair. “Please. I’d prefer you always be honest with me.”

  “It turns me on.”

  “What?”

  “You being bitchy. Calling me ‘Trucker’ while you sneer at me…it turns me on.”

  Mary narrowed her eyes at him. “There’s no way. That’s insane.”

  Truck let go of her face and sat back, taking a sip of his beer before saying, “Look at me, Mary.” He gestured to his face.

  “I’m looking.”

  “I’m hideous.”

  Mary’s stomach rolled but she shook her head and her lips tightened in irritation. “You are not,” she barked at him.

  “I have a mirror, Little Bit. I know what I look like. My scar is awful.” He ran his finger across the red, jagged skin on his cheek. The blemish ran from under his eye, down his cheek, to the corner of his lips. It pulled his mouth down so it looked like he was perpetually sco
wling. “You’re the only female since it happened to not give a shit about my scar. Well, you and Annie. The first time she met me, she put her little hand on my face and asked me if it hurt. I’d do anything for that little girl. Anyway, you got right up in my face and gave me shit. My cock got so hard I thought for sure you’d take one look and be horrified. But you didn’t even notice. You just kept giving me shit and coming at me because you were worried about Rayne. It was awesome.”

  Mary just stared at Truck. If she was honest with herself, his scar was horrible. It was puckered and painful looking. But after her initial shock of imagining the violence that caused the blemish on his face, she’d stopped noticing it. She’d seen enough breast cancer survivors, burn victims, and other disfigured people during her time in various hospitals that the mark on his face no longer really even registered. And over the last few months, he’d been the person she’d turned to more and more. Rayne was her best friend, and would always be, but Rayne had Ghost now. Mary couldn’t, and wouldn’t, drag her down into her life of medical appointments and cancer scares again.

  She didn’t want to drag anyone down, but Truck didn’t seem to care. He did what he wanted no matter what she said. It had annoyed her at first, but lately she’d come to expect him to simply ignore her when she said she didn’t need his help. Slowly but surely, she’d started to rely on him just as much as she’d once relied on Rayne.

  “I’m more concerned with who you are inside than what you look like on the outside.” Mary told him. “I don’t see your scar when I look at you.”

  “I know you don’t. And it means the world to me. When’s your next appointment?”

  Mary blinked at the abrupt change in subject. She thought he’d ask her what she saw in him. Figured he’d say something to keep her on her toes. “Next week,” she told him. “But I’m not sure I’m going.”

  “What do you mean? You have to go,” Truck said, appalled.

  Mary sighed. “My insurance won’t pay for any more cancer treatments. My company changed our benefits and they’re saying the treatment’s not covered, or something like that. I don’t really understand it all. But it doesn’t really matter. I’m tired, Truck. Tired of fighting.”

  “Don’t you fucking give up.” Truck scowled at her.

  “I can’t afford it,” she told him honestly. “It exhausts me even thinking about how the hell I’ll pay for chemo and radiation without insurance.”

  “I’ll figure something out,” he told her immediately.

  “Truck, this isn’t something you—”

  “You are not giving up. You will get the treatment you need and you will beat this again. Got it?” Truck told her fiercely. He wasn’t touching her, but he was leaning into her, getting into her personal space.

  “Okay,” she agreed. How could she do anything else with him in her face like he was?

  “I’m going with you to your next appointment,” Truck said, sitting back and giving her a little bit of breathing room.

  Mary shook her head automatically. “No.”

  “Yes,” Truck countered. “No matter how this turns out, I’ll be by your side.”

  “Truck, you can’t—”

  “I can,” he interrupted. “And I will.”

  Mary glared at him. If she let him do this, help her through this like Rayne did the last time she’d been sick, he’d get under her skin even more than he already was. She refused to let that happen. The last thing she wanted was to fall in love with the man. If she somehow gained the only thing she’d always wanted, to be loved, only to know she wouldn’t get to fully experience it because she was dead, would suck.

  So she did what she’d always done—she turned on her inner bitch...simply to get Truck to decide she wasn’t worth the trouble. She had to protect her heart no matter what. “I said no, Trucker. I don’t need you to hold my hand like I’m a fucking baby.” She slammed her drink down on the table next to her. “As if I’d want a big freak like you by my side. You’d scare everyone away.”

  Instead of getting pissed as she’d intended, Truck merely smiled. “Good. Because you’re mine. If anyone even thinks about giving you shit, they’ll have to deal with me.”

  Scared about how good his words made her feel, and how much he made her crave having him by her side to lean on if she had to go through another cancer scare, Mary forced herself to roll her eyes and storm away. Fuck, she was in big trouble.

  On the other side of the party, Akilah held her baby sister, Hope, in her arms while their parents swayed back and forth on the makeshift dance floor in the middle of the lawn.

  Tex and Melody had adopted her when she had nowhere else to go, and some days she couldn’t believe how different and wonderful her life was now than when she’d lived in war-torn Iraq.

  She still missed her parents, they’d been killed by an explosive planted by the Taliban in her village, the same explosive that had taken her arm, but life in the United States was bigger, louder, and a hundred times more peaceful than her old life in Iraq was. She was able to go to school freely, wear what she wanted, write what she wanted, and could go anywhere she wanted. She’d never felt so free. While she missed her parents fiercely and there were days she missed her culture, the good things about living in the US heavily outweighed the life she used to have.

  And Tex and Melody were more like friends than parents, encouraging her to explore and learn. Amazingly, they even let her name their daughter, and her half-sister.

  Akilah called her Alam…which meant hope in Arabic.

  “Can I sit here?” a deep voice said from above her.

  Akilah looked up into the man called Fish’s tired, drawn face. She nodded immediately. She’d been immensely curious about him from the first moment she’d seen him…and his prosthetic. She’d met a few people in the hospitals who had prosthetic limbs, but no one who looked as unhappy about it as Fish did.

  Fish sat heavily in the chair and took a long pull of the beer in his hand, but didn’t speak.

  Akilah wanted to talk, but was nervous about her English. She was getting much better at it, but sometimes people still had a hard time understanding her because of her accent and at times she messed up words. But because she was so curious about the man, she decided to give it a shot.

  “You have new arm but do not like,” she stated bluntly.

  Fish turned his head and stared at her for a long moment, before shrugging then saying, “I hate it.”

  Akilah reached her free arm toward him, touching the hook-like prongs with her fingertips. “Why no real hand?”

  “Why don’t I have one of those fancy-ass contraptions that make me look as normal as possible so people won’t stare at me in disgust?” he asked.

  Akilah didn’t understand some of the words he used, but she got the gist of what he was saying, so she nodded.

  He sighed and ran his real hand through his hair. He gazed at the lawn unseeingly, then turned and looked at her own prosthetic. Hope was sleeping peacefully in the crook of her arm and the fake hand was resting under the baby’s legs.

  Fish said softly, “I’m tired, Akilah. Tired of the pain. Of the pitying looks. Of missing my friends and wishing I’d been killed right alongside them.”

  “My parents killed in front of me,” Akilah told him. “Friends shot. Raped. I felt like you. I was scared when I came to US. I could not talk or understand. But Tex and Melody took me. Loved me. They did not care about my arm. You will find this.”

  Fish looked at her and didn’t drop his gaze. The pain and despair in his eyes clear to see. So she continued. “Someday you go where the land feeds your,” she paused, searching for the right word, “inside. When your inside calms, you will find a woman. Someone who doesn’t see what is missing.” She glanced down at his prosthetic, then back into his eyes. “But who sees you.”

  “I miss the mountains,” Fish said, not commenting on the woman thing. “The trees. I’ve found that I don’t like being around people anymore. Even being he
re today is hard.”

  “Then you go.” Akilah shrugged and told him matter-of-factly. “When arm no hurt no more. And you are better. Find the mountains and trees. You heal.”

  Dane Munroe reached over and gently put his hand on the back of Akilah’s neck and pulled her into him, careful not to wake baby Hope, and kissed her forehead, then sat back.

  Looking into her eyes, he said with more feeling than in anything she’d heard him say all day, “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” Akilah said softly, pleased to see some of the despair was gone from the man’s face and the pain in his eyes had lessened.

  Wolf, Abe, Cookie, Mozart, Dude, and Benny stood in a huddle, chatting.

  “You guys hear about that SEAL team we met while in Turkey looking for Tiger?” Wolf asked, sipping his beer.

  “No, what about them?” Cookie asked.

  “Looks like they’re being reassigned to San Diego.”

  “No shit?” Abe asked incredulously.

  “No shit,” Wolf confirmed.

  “All of them?” Benny inquired.

  Wolf nodded. “All but Ho Chi Minh. He was wounded on a mission and retired early. Married his girlfriend and I heard they moved to Belize.”

  “Damn,” Dude breathed. “I’m sorry to hear that. That he was injured, not that he got married and is living in fucking paradise.”

  The guys all grinned, thinking about their own families.

  “Rocco, Gumby, Ace, Bubba, Rex, and the new guy, Phantom, will be in Riverton next week. They’re meeting with Commander Hurt. They only agreed on the move if they could stay together as a team. We probably won’t be going on missions with them, but they were damn good to work with in Turkey. You guys want to set up a meet with them?” Wolf asked his team.

  “Fuck yeah,” Abe responded.

  “Yes!” Benny and Mozart said at the same time.

  “Sure,” Cookie told Wolf.

  “Definitely,” Dude drawled after the others had spoken. “Anyone we can get to help look after our families while we’re on missions is good for me. And of course, if they have women, we’ll do the same for them.”