Chapter 2 Blast From the Past
Chapter two
Blast From the Past
Jenna Hodge was damn near the last person Jon had expected to run into in Misty Glades.
The girl he remembered had longed to put their small town behind her every bit as much as he had, though in a very different way.
That was how he knew her support of his military aspirations had been genuine, despite what it’d meant for them. So, what was she doing there?
A thought he’d long refused to let himself dwell on finally found voice in his mind. She probably wasn’t a Hodge anymore. No way in hell.
He ripped his gaze away before the pain he had no right to, and no real words for, could show on his face.
Even when she’d been his, they’d both known what they’d had would end.
It had never been his intention to tie anyone down to the miserable life of being bound to a man who wasn’t home and might well not return above ground.
Still, fuck, the bright-eyed girl he’d known in high school had grown all the way up.
She had a full, plump figure he could easily imagine sinking his fingers—and his cock—into.
That hair he remembered tangling his hands in as a boy still learning how to touch a woman was barely contained on her head, spilling out of her loosened bun like an unraveling ball of golden yarn.
He couldn’t help but wonder how long it might be.
He hoped the lucky bastard in her life appreciated her properly.
The burglar still pinned under his grip attempted to lurch forward, like he thought the lock-hold on his neck was a bluff.
Jon spun the asshole’s gun around in his other hand and slammed the butt of it into the fucker’s temple, rendering him unconscious.
He highly doubted Misty Glades had grown enough to develop its own law enforcement, and he didn’t feel like kneeling on asphalt for an hour.
He let the shithead drop, popped the clip from the pistol, and cleared the chamber for good measure before rocking back to his feet.
Lance was going to follow his lead, as much because it was his hometown as because Lance was used to following his lead, and that meant Jon couldn’t avoid her. He couldn’t pretend to focus on the task at hand and get swallowed up.
It was a good thing the Marines had taught him control.
Jon glanced quickly over the parking lot, just to be sure the area remained clear, and passed the disassembled weapon off to Lance as he stepped around the guy he’d knocked out. Then he turned his attention back to the woman who’d moved about a foot beyond the video-store-turned-bakery.
It was fitting, he supposed. She’d been his first everything else. She might as well be his first reunion, too.
Jon allowed himself a moment to drink her in again under the guise of assessment, though he already knew no shots had been fired.
She looked a little tired and there were some drying water spots on her top, as if she’d washed something that had splashed back at her.
None of that detracted from her beauty. Better still, he saw no signs of bruising or bleeding.
Beyond her, the older man hovered in the shop’s doorway, still clutching his paper bag. He looked a bit pale and the faintest bit familiar, but Jon couldn’t immediately place him. They probably needed to get him off his feet and check his vitals, though.
No one else was coming forward—no one identifying themselves as the on-duty manager, if bakeries had those—so Jon shifted his focus back to Jenna.
Who still looked like she was about to fucking cry.
“Someone should call the sheriff and report these assholes,” he said.
“They’ll be conscious again before authorities get here.
” He glanced again past her and raised his voice for good measure.
“Is anyone hurt? Might be a good idea to have the operator send an ambulance, too.”
A younger male moved into view from behind the older one.
He wore an apron with the store’s brightly colored name across the top, so Jon figured he’d probably been the one furthest back, behind the counter.
He raised a smartphone to shoulder height.
“I can call. My cousin works dispatch; she’ll send us someone. ”
Jon inclined his head. “Make sure they know they’ve got two perps to take back.”
Jenna finally stepped forward as the boy made a sound of acknowledgment. Even as Jon’s focus snapped back to her, she was sucking in an audible breath, the first of her tears breaking free. “J-Jon…?”
He frowned. Yeah, it had been a damn long time, and he imagined she hadn’t expected to see him again any more than he had her.
Still, her reaction felt … off. Mismatched.
Shock he could have understood, but that was too tame a word and possibly not the right direction of description at all, for the expression on her face.
She licked her lips and tried again. “You’re here? You’re … alive?”
His eyebrows shot up his forehead before he could contain the reaction.
“Of course I’m alive.” Oddly not the first time he’d had to verify that, but he had definitely been more prepared for it before.
His feet carried him closer, until he could lower his voice and had to fight the urge to wipe the tears from her cheeks. “Why the hell wouldn’t I be?”
Her brow pinched and she dropped the side of one loosely curled fist against his chest. For just a moment, her voice jumped higher in response to her emotions.
“What do you mean why wouldn’t you be? I heard”—a gasp shuddered through her and any semblance of fight left her tone—“he told everyone you were dead!”
Jon scowled, his heart constricting, and raised his hands to cup her face. The motion was automatic. His thumbs were stroking across her cheeks, pulling the tears from her skin, before he could think to stop himself. But she was too pretty to leave covered in unnecessary tearstains. “Who, Jen?”
She stared into his eyes, the blue sparkling behind another layer of unshed tears. “Your father.”
Old, familiar anger surged inside him. What the fuck?
Lance let out a whistle. “Sounds like Daddy’s got some ‘splaining to do.”
Jenna startled, and Jon forced himself to drop his hands from her soft skin before he could forget his place. She eased back at the same time as the older man shuffled forward.
“Jon? Jon Johnson?”
Get your shit together, Marine. Jon shifted his gaze appropriately, but he was still processing the notion that his fucking father had spread the lie around town that he was dead. So, anyone he had known before was going to look at him like he was a goddamn ghost.
Jenna motioned to the man. “You remember Principal Neville?”
Jon blinked. That explained the familiarity.
It wasn’t like he’d spent an egregious amount of time in the Principal’s Office …
nor had he never been sent there. He offered the man a flash of a smile.
“It’s been a while. You okay? How about we find you somewhere to sit for a few minutes and catch your breath. ”
Neville brushed him off with a shaky arm. “I’m not that old, son. I just….” He trailed, looked Jon over, and smiled. “It’s good to see you, Jon.” He pulled his paper bag close. “I should really get going. That paperwork won’t do itself.”
“Are you sure you wouldn’t like a cup of water to-go, at least? Or a tea?” Jenna asked.
Jon studied the older man as Neville shook his head and angled toward the older-model Toyota. It was one of two vehicles in the lot, and not the one Jon and Lance had pegged as belonging to the burglars. At least they’d read that right.
Lance moved up to Neville in quick strides. “Let me help you to your car, sir.”
Jon dipped his chin. Lance would notice if Neville was trying to hide symptoms of something problematic.
In the meantime, they needed to more thoroughly secure the crooks, and he needed to learn what the hell had been said about him.
Jenna probably wasn’t who he should be asking that from.
He didn’t know if he could trust himself not to question why there was no ring on her left hand, or anything else that wasn’t his damn place.
Jenna was eyeing the slumped figure who’d previously pointed a gun at her when Jon shifted his attention her way once more, her brow still furrowed.
She still scrunched her nose when she was thinking upsetting thoughts. He’d forgotten entirely about that.
“What do we do with them until the deputies get here?” She rested her hands on her hips. “Should we take off their masks, at least, in case they get away?”
In case they get away. Jon chuckled. “They’re not getting away, Jen.
I’ve got this.” He almost reached out to touch her again, stopping himself halfway and turning the motion into a lame gesture toward the open storefront.
“Think you could go inside and see if they’ve got something we can bind their wrists with?
Zip ties or rope would be preferable, but we’re good at improvising. ”
Jenna looked up at him again, the adorable crinkle over her nose disappearing, and rolled her lips between her teeth for a heartbeat. “I’m really … glad your dad is an asshole.” She let out a wet, choked-off laugh. “Which I never thought I’d say.”
He felt his expression soften. “I’ll talk to him. But for what it’s worth, I had no idea anyone was spreading that kind of shit.” Let alone that she might have been around to hear it. He wanted so badly to ask. But he was already pushing too close to the line.