Protecting Tessa (Special Forces: Operation Alpha) (Brotherhood Alliance #6)

Chapter 6

6

F ord stood at the edge of the crowded bar, arms crossed over his chest, wishing he were anywhere except here. Titus and the gang decided to hit Lucky’s Bar to blow off steam after an exceptionally busy week. He couldn’t complain, though. The alternative was going to a baby shower—which he considered the kiss of death.

The women in their group were throwing the shower for Dani Ward-Barlow, Ryker’s wife.

This would be their first child together. Dani was a widow and had a son, Jack, who Ryker had adopted. Lucky guy. Although marriage and kids weren’t on Ford’s bucket list.

Ryker was sitting in the corner, nursing a beer and laughing. Guess he wasn’t too upset about not going to the shower.

This was Ford’s first time in Lucky’s. The bar was packed. Titus mentioned it was always this busy on a Saturday night. The air was thick with the smell of fried food, spilled beer, and sweat. He ran his fingers over the condensation on the glass in front of him. Wish I was home.

He usually passed on invitations to hang out. However, tonight was the anniversary of his parents’ deaths, and he didn’t want to be sitting alone with his memories in a cabin.

It’d been eight months since their passing, even longer for his friends in the service, and the dull ache never went away. He thought the noise and chaos of the bar would distract him from the memories, but it only made him feel more disconnected.

The table the guys claimed was wedged in a corner. Titus was nearby laughing, and Zach was shouting something over the din.

“Got a table,” exclaimed Zach, gesturing toward the back room where the pool tables were located. “Who’s in?”

“Me,” said Finn Ryder. He turned and narrowed his eyes at Ford. Guess he was in too. Ford nodded and stood.

“What about you, Ryker?” asked Zach.

Ryker shook his head and chuckled as he raised his bottle in salute. “I’m just here for the beer.”

Titus clapped Ford on the back as they made their way through the tables and dancers. “This should be good. Best way to unwind.”

Unwind? Ford preferred to unwind in his cabin in the woods by himself, surrounded by the whisper of wind through the trees, the distant hoot of owls and staring at the night sky.

Peace. Quiet. Alone.

He sighed. Maybe one of these days, he’d feel more comfortable with people. But for one night, he could hold it together.

“Yeah,” he replied.

The guys passed by the long wooden bar where bartenders were making drinks. The clinking of glasses, the twang of a steel guitar piercing the air and the thud of boots as people swirled around the dance floor laughing made him sad. Everyone was moving forward while he was stuck in the past.

The noise lessened as they reached the pool tables. Ford picked up a cue. Focus on the game.

They divided into two teams. He and Titus were on one team against Zach and Finn on the other. The wager was small, but the competition would be fierce. Ford might not have wanted to play, but he also hated losing.

“Rack ’em,” Titus said with a grin. He set the balls in place and lined up his first shot. Ford watched the ball roll across the table. Striped ball in the corner pocket. Then Titus missed.

“Watch and learn, losers,” said Finn with a huge grin. He hit a solid ball into a side pocket and several balls more until he missed.

The game continued with good-natured ribbing until it was Ford’s turn. He rolled his shoulders, took stock of the eight ball and made the last shot. Bull’s-eye!

Finn and Zach groaned.

Titus clapped him on the back, grabbed the pot and divided it, giving half to Ford. He then turned to Finn and Zach. “Thanks, losers. This will just about cover our beer.”

They walked back into the bar. Ford looked longingly at the door.

“You look like you’re ready to bolt,” Titus said.

“Humph.” Ford sighed. “You know me.”

Titus nodded, but his brow furrowed. “Yeah, I do. But it’s good to be with people instead of being consumed by your thoughts.”

Ford hesitated. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to stay awhile.

He ended up staying later than he hoped. The guys ordered another round of drinks and kept things lively, joking with each other with half-serious taunts reminding Ford of days past when he did that with his team. It hurt to think about them, but that was the past. He was in the present with only the future to think about.

Ford genuinely liked and admired this group of men. Although he knew some of their stories, he knew little about Zach, who was still living in a cabin near his on the Brotherhood Alliance campus. He was sure Zach suffered from PTSD, and he also knew that the man was sweet on Melissa Doherty, who ran the Paws for Caring program.

Ford laughed more than he had in a long time. Although more was a misnomer. He laughed and joked a little.

Finally, the band gathered its instruments, and the crowd dispersed.

The guys stood. “Will we see you tomorrow?” Ryker asked Ford.

Ford nodded. Ryker asked the guys to help with an addition of two bedrooms to his house. Ford warmly welcomed the chance to work, hoping it would distract him from other matters.

The group parted as Ford stepped into the crisp night air. He exhaled slowly, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding in.

The sadness in his chest hadn’t quite disappeared. But for tonight, that was enough.

The shrill buzz of the alarm ripped Ford from a sound sleep. He groaned, rubbed a hand over his face, and squinted at his phone.

Damn. It was only 7a.m. How long had he slept?

It seemed like his head had just hit the pillow. As the fuzziness cleared, he realized he had just gone to bed. The guys left after 2a.m. when the bar shut down.

He stretched and got up. Ryker expected them at the house by eight, and if he didn’t get his ass going, he’d never make in time. He hated being the last one anywhere.

First up—a little hair of the dog.

Ford chuckled darkly.

Why had he remembered that particular phrase? He thought for a minute.

Oh yeah. Pete had said it the week before he’d been killed. They had celebrated another team member’s birthday and got absolutely shit-faced. The next morning, in a half-drunk stupor, they had thrown together whiskey, honey and cream. It didn’t help, but it didn’t make things worse.

Ford looked in his fridge and grimaced. No cream. No milk either. He checked the cupboard. There was no honey to be found. With a huge sigh, he cracked an egg into a shot glass of whiskey, added a dash of Tabasco—added another dash for good measure—and downed it. His stomach protested, and he almost gagged. Not doing that again . It was disgusting.

The shower was quick. The water was barely lukewarm when he turned it off. He threw on his clothes. His truck rumbled to life as he pulled away from the campus. Ryker lived just outside town. Ford drove through familiar streets.

The neighborhood looked like a middle-class working neighborhood filled with small ranch houses and tidy yards. He knew Finn and Dexter Drum lived next door.

Several trucks had already parked on the street. He pulled up to the curb and got out.

Damn. Was he the last one to arrive?

Voices carried from the back of the house in the cool, crisp air. Fall in Florida was subtle, not much different from any other seasons, unlike where he came from, where the leaves were just starting to turn blood-red and canary-yellow, with pops of orange painting a kaleidoscope of color. He missed the vibrant colors.

Ford walked around back and noticed a fort, swing set and slide. There was also a large structure where Ryker worked in his spare time. He was a master woodworker.

“Hey, man,” Ryker called out, waving him over. “Grab a cup of coffee and pastry. Titus asked Emelia to bake something for us. We’ll get started as soon as the truck arrives with the rest of the wood.”

Well, he was in for a treat. Everything she made was delicious. Ford’s stomach growled in anticipation. Emilia Wells didn’t have her bakery in town anymore. She planned to teach baking and cooking from a barn on their property, but she frequently gave Titus baked goods to share.

He filled a mug with coffee, then selected a muffin bursting with apples that was still warm and sat in one of the chairs.

The guys ate in comfortable silence while Ford took a moment to survey what Ryker had already framed out.

“Dad!”

Ford looked over at the small boy bounding out the back door wearing a tool belt almost as big as him, followed by a heavily pregnant Dani balancing a pot of coffee.

“Hey, guys, I brought more coffee,” said Dani.

Ryker rushed over, his brow furrowed in concern. “Let me take that, sweetheart. You shouldn’t be carrying heavy things.”

“Really?” Dani raised a brow. “How will little ol’ me ever hold a baby or make a meal?”

The guys burst into laughter.

Before Ryker could answer, the little boy tugged on Ryker’s shirt. “Can I help?”

“Hey, Jackster,” called out Finn from across the yard. “We were waiting for you.”

“Yay!” The little boy’s eyes lit up as he raced over to help him.

Ryker gave Finn a mock glare. “Next time, let me handle this.”

“What?” Finn shrugged. “It’s not like he didn’t help you build the fort or swing set.”

“True.”

Ford smiled to himself, remembering helping his dad as a kid. It made him sad that his parents would never have the joy of seeing a grandchild. Then he almost got teary thinking about how lonely his life had become. Sometimes it was hard surrounded by the laughter and camaraderie of his friends.

“Hey, bud, you okay?” Zach slapped him on the back, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” Damn. It wouldn’t be the first time he lied about that.

Thankfully, the rumble of a delivery truck announced the supplies had arrived and saved him from further conversation.

Ford threw himself into the work, losing track of time as the next few hours went by fast. The steady rhythm of hammers and the thwack and hiss of nail guns were interrupted only by the occasional joke or muttering when something didn’t go right. The addition began to take shape.

They took a break around noon. Ford wiped the sweat from his forehead.

Dani laid out a selection of sandwiches and drinks by herself, much to Ryker’s dismay. He’d offered to help, but she had just smiled and carried on.

Ford grabbed a ham and cheese sandwich and a soft drink. He sank into one of the lawn chairs with a sigh and stared at the open field behind Ryker’s house. The scent of fresh timber hung in the air. The sky was a cloudless blue, and for a minute Ford forgot everything and enjoyed the company and work.

After the break, they spent the afternoon putting in sheetrock and windows. By late afternoon he was beat, and thankfully Ryker called an end to the day.

Jack had gone inside a couple of hours ago to help his mom and most likely take a nap. Something Ford wished he could do.

They grabbed beers and sat around, admiring their work.

“Will this be finished in time for the baby?” Ford asked, taking a long swig of beer.

Ryker looked at the addition and nodded. “A couple more Saturdays and … yeah.”

Ford heard car doors slamming and women’s voices shattering the peaceful moment. Dani came back outside carrying a bowl of pasta salad and set it down on the long picnic table.

Isabelle, Felicia, Naomi, and Emelia walked in carrying goodies.

Ford hadn’t seen Isabelle Zander, who was engaged to Will Blake, or her best friend and soon-to-be sister-in-law Felicia Montgomery, who was engaged to Isabelle’s brother, in a while. Colt and Will rushed over to help them set the food on the table.

Ford watched the men interact with their women.

This was a tight-knit group, very comfortable with one another, and not for the first time, he felt a pang of envy. When had he become the odd man out?

Not that any one person made him feel like that, but sometimes it hurt, even if he did prefer his own company.

He had no wife, no kids, no parents, no one to come home to at the end of a long day.

Ford actually enjoyed himself today, but the gnawing sense of loneliness never left. He wasn’t sure it ever would.