Chapter 15
CHAPTER 15
In record time, they unloaded the trucks and set up the furniture. I watched as a beer cooler was carried out to the deck and then we all moved outside. The beer was passed around. These men were huge. They all were so easy going, but they had the same intensity as Jackson. There was a vibe that pulsed beneath the surface of this group that indicated a tight camaraderie. Even though things were weird between Jackson and myself, I still gravitated to his side.
“Dude, you gonna give us a proper introduction?” Chris asked.
Jackson and I faced the other five men who had gathered in a half circle in front of us. These huge men openly studied me. All of them had that direct, fierce energy that I associated with Jackson.
Jackson lifted his beer can and went around the circle. “Chris, Alfie, Guinness, Forbes, and Typhoon. Don’t ask me what their real names are because besides Chris, I have no idea.”
They all laughed.
He looked down at me. Green eyes held my gaze. “This is my wife, Emily.”
My face burned hot under his careful inspection. Jackson called me his wife. I felt like a two-bit actress on some set. None of this seemed real. I was waiting for someone to step on the scene and yell “cut.”
“Well,” Chris raised his beer to me. “Although I never thought I would see this punk ever get married, I must say that this is a welcomed surprise. On behalf of the guys here, we’d like to welcome you to the family.”
The rest of the men lifted their beers and in unison said, “Hooyah.”
I blushed even harder as they all drank to that toast and then they were pulling Jackson into their group. They slapped his shoulders and did the half-man hug that men seemed to do. I squeaked when Chris came over and picked me up in a huge bear hug.
“Jesus, you're a tiny little thing aren’t you,” he set me back down on my feet. “You need to eat a few more pieces of pizza.”
The doorbell rang, and Chris and I went inside to get the door. It was the pizza guy. Chris gave me the look of death when I tried to get my purse. “Don’t even think about it, little lady.”
We ate pizza together. They ribbed Forbes and me endlessly about our pineapple pizza. They took turns chasing Chloe around the backyard until she panted with desperate joy. And they drank beer like frat boys.
These men were different. I can’t explain it, but I knew they all held themselves to the same impossible standards that Jackson held himself to. I instinctively knew that they all had the same integrity, discipline and mental toughness that Jackson had. There was a bond between them. They were one of the tightest knit group of men I had ever met. They would die for each other. That I knew.
I loved watching them interact with Jackson. It almost felt like I was getting a glimpse into his secret world. They joked around. Razzed each other. Mocked each other. And enjoyed each other.
I had been the mistaken one. This entire time I had worried that Jackson didn’t have a real family, but the truth of the matter was I was the one without a family. Jackson, on the other hand, had five of the greatest brothers a guy could ask for.
I thought Jackson was the most observant man in the world, but 15 seconds after I discretely yawned, without saying a word, they picked up their empties, put the leftover pizza in the fridge and made their way out with a casual slap on Jackson’s shoulders and a wink in my direction. Then they were gone.
I sat on the steps of the deck and watched as the fireflies came out to play in the dark. Chloe lay on the grass. Jackson walked over and came and sat down beside me.
“You ready for this?”
I took a deep breath. “I think so.”
We sat in silence as we looked out over the huge backyard.
“What do you think of the house?”
“It’s nice. I love the backyard.”
“How come?”
“I had a backyard when I was a kid. I loved my backyard. My dad built a swing set for me.”
“You think Alien might want his own swing set?”
I felt a ping of hope in my heart thinking of Jackson building a swing set for our child. “Maybe.”
“How did you like your baptism by fire with the guys?” his voice was casual.
“I was nervous at first, but they all seem nice.”
“What happened with Alfie and Chris before I arrived?”
I froze for a heartbeat and then recovered. “Not much.”
“What happened?”
I shrugged, not wanting to talk about it.
“Tell me. ”
“Well, at first they seemed to think that you married someone by the name of Harper.”
Radio silence crackled between us.
“Did they tell you who she is?”
My heart pounded in my throat. I didn’t want to know who Harper was, but Jackson wanted to tell me. This I knew. “Why don’t you?”
“She’s an ex-girlfriend.”
I had figured that one out.
“How long did you date?”
“Just over three years.”
Whisky Tango Foxtrot. Jackson had dated someone for three freaking years? Was this some kind of joke?
“You dated Harper for three years?” My voice scratched with emotion.
“Yeah.”
More radio silence while I digested that fact. My mind raced. He had dated someone for three years. What had gone wrong?
“So, when did you and Harper break up?”
“The night before I came to New York.”
What. The. Fucking. Fuck.
My mind reeled with this news. Jackson had been in a three-year relationship that had ended a day before I had met him.
“Why did you break up?” I stared unseeing at the backyard. This almost felt like a break-up conversation. When you find out something terrible about your partner, and you know that nothing is ever going to be the same again.
“I had just gotten back stateside after a bad tour, and I was pretty fucked up.”
“And now?” My voice was barely a whisper.
“Now I’m less fucked up.”
“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
“Would you have married me if I had?”
“Probably not. ”
“There’s your answer.”
That wasn’t an answer. That made no sense to me. My mind flailed as I tried to wrap it around this conversation.
No wonder he had resisted marrying me. It was one thing to think that a guy didn’t want a commitment for the sake of not wanting commitment, but it was an entirely different ballgame when you realize that he just didn’t want to commit to you.
“Is she a civilian?”
“She works logistics out of our base command center.”
“So…she works with you.”
“Sometimes.”
This conversation just kept getting better and better. I felt faint. Dizzy.
“Have you talked to her since you got back?”
“Not yet. I got back and immediately left for training. I just got back this afternoon.”
I couldn't wrap my head around this news. Three years. He had been committed to another woman for three entire years. He had been someone’s partner, a boyfriend. A lover.
“What happened?” Maybe this would save me. Perhaps she had cheated on him. Perhaps he realized that he didn’t love her. This was the one answer that could right everything that had just been made wrong.
He looked over the backyard. “I had a really bad tour. Two of my buddies were killed.”
“I’m sorry,” I floundered, my words sounding inadequate.
“Due to the traumatic nature of my tour, it was decided before I could pursue active duty again, I needed to partake in mandatory counseling. It was part of my re-engagement proceedings to get back to work.” A bitter note traced his voice.
I blinked. My mind raced, trying to put the pieces together. “Your outpatient treatment was therapy?”
“It was complete bullshit.” His green eyes glanced at my face. “ The only reason why I participated is that it was the only way they would let me fight again.”
It started to make sense. His secrecy around his outpatient program. His unwillingness to tell anyone what he was getting treatment for. He had been in therapy.
“But why did you and Harper break up?” My voice caught awkwardly on her name. I didn’t want to know more about her, but I needed the truth.
“The night before I left for New York, Harper came to talk to me.”
My eyes were wide. I stared unseeing out into the now dark backyard. I could see the outline of Chloe lying on the grass, her white fur reflecting in the dark.
He cleared his throat. “Harper was trying to support me. I didn’t want her support. We fought that night. We had a huge fight.”
I lifted my head to look at his face. He looked tortured.
“I was awful to her. And I said some pretty intense shit to her face before I got on that plane. I ended things with her. The next morning, I was in New York, in your loft.”