Chapter 10 Cole
Chapter ten
Cole
I’d been chasing my tail all day.
Spending a lazy morning in bed, in the shower, and in the kitchen with Grace mightn’t have been the most productive way to start a day, but it was certainly the most fun.
It wasn’t until I was racing through the paddocks on the back of the ATV with a smile on my face that I realized it’d been too long since I’d felt this good.
And it wasn’t just the sex either. At least, I didn’t think it was.
We’d laughed. We’d talked. We’d fallen asleep curled together, and even though we’d spent the night spooning on the couch, it was the best night’s sleep I’d had in a long time.
I raced through my chores trying to catch up, knowing I never would, but I couldn’t find it in myself to regret a second. In fact, if I thought for a minute I could convince Grace to spend the whole day with me, I would’ve blown off all my commitments.
The sun was already starting to set by the time I dragged my ass up the steps and across the porch. Rocket bounced around in circles, barking at me as I tugged my boots off.
“Are you hungry, boy?” I asked, bending down and scratching him behind the ears.
In response, he just barked again.
I set my boots aside and yanked open the screen door, letting Rocket into the house.
Half an hour later, Rocket was fed, and I was showered, changed and sitting on the rocking chair on the porch with a beer in my hand, waiting for Grace.
I chuckled to myself. I was sitting in a rocking chair waiting for a girl. I was such an old man.
When a set of headlights bounced down the road, I found myself sitting up a little straighter and setting down my beer.
I dug my phone from my pocket and checked the time.
It was a little after seven and a lot earlier than I’d been expecting her, but I wasn’t about to complain.
The earlier she was, the more hours I got with her.
I heard the strain of the engine as it got closer, and my excitement faded. Grace’s car didn’t sound like that and if it did, she wouldn’t be driving it again until a mechanic had gone over it with a fine-tooth comb. This sounded like a wounded animal in pain. Squeaking, scratching, and straining.
I stood up and lifted my hand to block the glare of the headlights. The battered old truck had certainly seen better days. I couldn’t see the paint job through the thick coat of mud and whoever was behind the wheel must have been deaf because I could hear the music blasting from the porch.
I moved to the edge of the porch as the truck came to a halt. I tried to place whoever had decided to show up unannounced but had nothing. I held my breath. I didn’t like people at the best of times and unwelcome visitors were my least favorite.
The music fell silent, and the door was shoved open. “Hey, asshole,” a voice boomed.
Now I was really pissed.
First, they showed up uninvited with their crappy music blaring, interrupting my peace and quiet, then calling me an asshole. Well, they could go fuck themselves. I had a shotgun inside and I wasn’t afraid to run some entitled prick off my land.
I watched on, my blood boiling as the driver rounded the hood of the car and came to a stop.
The moment I saw him, my anger vanished, and tears blurred my vision.
“Zane?” I choked out, barely able to believe my eyes.
As he strode toward the porch, I saw the man before me. He looked older than the last time I’d seen him, but he was standing in front of me and that was more than enough.
“Tell me you’ve got a cold beer in there with my name on it,” he offered in greeting.
Ignoring his question, I raced down the steps, closing the distance between us before wrapping him in a huge hug.
I didn’t care if it made me look like a pussy.
Zane had quite literally saved my life, and I owed him everything.
For him to be standing here now meant he’d survived, too, and we both knew, all too well, that not everyone did.
He hugged me back and when we broke apart, I was almost overcome.
“Oh, anyone would think you missed me,” Zane teased.
“Why would I miss an asshole like you?” I tossed back playfully, burying my emotions.
I could barely believe it. Zane was here. He was home and he was safe. I couldn’t wish for anything more.
“Want a beer?”
“Thought you’d never ask.”
I led Zane inside and watched as he toed off his heavy combat boots, leaving them by the door.
He was still dressed head to toe in his army fatigues and I was under no illusions that he’d come straight here.
Whether it was for a visit or longer, I had no idea.
But after everything we’d been through, I knew I wasn’t kicking him out.
After I reheated him some leftovers, we were back out on the porch shooting the shit.
He told me stories from after I’d left, but we were steering well clear of all the serious topics surrounding us.
If Zane didn’t want to talk about it, then I wasn’t going to push.
I’d been where he was right now, and it wasn’t easy.
Readjusting to life out in the real world wasn’t seamless, and even now, there were days I struggled.
“Whoever thought Staff Sargeant Cole Flanigan would become farmer Cole.”
“I know I certainly didn’t,” I admitted, not at all ashamed.
I was proud of what I’d done. I’d done my duty to my country but now I wanted a quiet life. I needed it. I’d earned it.
“It seems to suit you,” he commented.
“It does. I love it out here. I spend most of my time outside in the wide-open spaces …”
“Without anyone in your face,” Zane finished for me.
“Exactly.”
“You did good, Cole. You really did,” he commented, rocking back in the chair and closing his eyes.
I looked around and realized he was right. Night was falling, the sun had faded, and stars stretched above us as far as the eye could see.
I thought he’d fallen asleep when he asked, “You ever think about going back?” catching me off-guard.
“Not really. I mean, it wasn’t easy at first, and I missed my family, but now, I’m where I should be,” I confirmed, knowing in my heart how true my statement was.
“I think you’re right,” Zane mumbled.
I swallowed down my nerves. I knew I had to ask but wasn’t sure if I was ready to hear the answer.
“What are your plans?” I dared to ask.
Zane’s eyes sprang open, and he looked over at me.
I could see the guy I knew like he was my own flesh and blood staring back at me, but he was buried under the tough exterior of a man who’d seen too much.
His eyes were tired and deep, dark bags sat under them.
The scruff on his jaw had turned salt and pepper, and he desperately needed a haircut.
“Not a fucking clue,” he answered honestly with a sigh.
I didn’t hesitate. “Stay as long as you want,” I offered.
“You sure?”
I hated that he looked at me with surprise. Even if I had to give up my own bed, I wouldn’t kick him out. Zane was welcome to stay as long as he wanted.
“Absolutely.”
It was the easiest decision I’d ever made.
“Thanks, man. I just need a couple of days …” he started to justify, and I understood without him explaining.
Getting out was hard. Harder than getting in.
When you go into military life you have all these dreams and beliefs of what you’re signing up for.
Then you pass the exams, ace the medical and somehow find yourself as property of the United States Army.
Then for years, you follow orders. They tell you when to eat, when to sleep, and where to go.
It becomes as easy as breathing. Then the end sneaks up on you.
Sometimes, it’s unexpected, and you're medically discharged and other times, even though you see it coming, even though you know it’s your time, the reality is when it gets here, you're not ready. You’re never ready.
“Take as long as you want,” I assured him.
“Mind if I grab a shower?”
“Not at all. Let me find you a towel,” I offered, collecting the empty bottles and heading inside while Zane went to grab his duffle bag.
While Zane showered, I cleaned up. My mind was racing.
I couldn’t believe he was actually here.
I still mightn’t know why or for how long, but it didn’t matter.
Zane had made it home. And while I wasn’t dumb enough to believe he didn’t have scars that no amount of time could ever heal, he was standing and he was home.
I was just emptying the trash when another set of headlights came down the drive, but this time it was a car I recognized. Grace had made it. I hoped she would, and she said she would, but part of me worried she’d change her mind or regret everything we’d done last night and this morning.
I needed to be worried.
She jumped out of the car looking like all my wet dreams come true. She wore a man’s button-down shirt with a wide leather belt wrapped around her waist and a pair of the sexiest cowboy boots I’d ever seen, provoking my inner caveman.
Forgetting about my lack of shoes, I ran down the steps and took her into my arms.
“That shirt better not belong to some other guy,” I growled against her neck, breathing in her coconut scent that made me giddy.
Grace leaned back and met my eye. “And what are you going to do about it if it is?” she challenged, her eyes alight with mischief.
“Oh, baby girl, you’re playing with fire,” I warned her as I scooped her up and tossed her over my shoulder before bringing my palm down on her butt.