Justifying Jack (The Wounded Warriors Book 2) by Simone Beaudelaire, J.M. Northup

'daddy', but the pleasure touched him irrevocably.
If only I were, honey… if only I were.
    “Could you hear me singing?” Elena, so full of energy now, was jumping up and down, unable to contain herself.
    “I sure did,” Jack told her as he knelt to her level. “I heard your beautiful voice above all the others.” Elena was delighted and giggled as she clapped her hands happily.
    “I love you, Jack!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms around him, hugging him in almost a choke hold.
    “I love you too, honey,” Jack told her and he meant it
. There's nothing I won't do for you, Andres, or… your mother.

Chapter 8
    “Jack, this is the fifth house we've looked at today,” Mike complained.
    “So?” Jack shook his head at his friend, not seeing the problem.
    “So, are you ever going to pick one, man?” Mike laughed.
    “Yeah, eventually,” Jack promised. “I just want it to be -”
    “Perfect,” Mike finished. “Yeah, I know. It's just, nothing's perfect, Jack.”
    “I know.”
    “Do you?” Mike challenged. “I mean, you've found the smallest of things to disqualify every place you've looked at. Dude, I thought you were anxious to get out of your folks' house. What's going on here?”
    Jack sighed and shrugged. “Mike, I just… Look, can you keep this in confidence?”
Yeah, I know you can. It was stupid to even ask.
    “Yeah, of course,” Mike assured him, a look of concern washing over him.
    “Mike, I, ah… I've met a woman and I… I've fallen in love”
    Mike couldn't hide his joy for his friend. “Dude, that's great!”
    “No, man, it's not.”
Ugh, how do I tell him? What's he going to think of me?
    Mike was clearly confused. “It's not?”
    “Mike,” Jack was hesitant, but he knew he needed to talk to someone.
If you can trust anyone, it's Mike. He's always been there for you and you know he always will be.
“It's Marithé.”
    “What's Marithé?”
    “Come on, man. This is hard enough,” Jack groaned. “The woman… I fell in love with Marithé.”
    Jack watched as confusion transitioned to understanding. “Jorge's Marithé – Marithé?”
    He just nodded.
Oh, God, please don't let Mike hate me. He's the closest thing I have to a real brother.
    “Oh, Jack,” Mike said in an almost inaudible voice.
    “I know,” Jack looked away. “And it's worse than just that.”
    “What do you mean?” Mike asked in alarm.
    Jack met his friend's eyes. “I don't just love Marithé, but I love whole package. I love Elena and Andres. I keep looking at houses and I imagine us living in them - together. I need a house with bedrooms for the kids and a yard big enough for them to play in. Marithé's favorite tree is a crepe myrtle… you know, the really vibrant pink ones. I'm hoping to find a house with at least one for her to look out the window at.”
    Mike shook his head, not in a negative way, but in a sad one. “Wow, you've really got it bad, huh?”
    “Yeah, but Jorge,” Jack sighed.
How do I say it? If I say anymore, it's going to sound like I'm glad my friend died and there's nothing further from the truth.
    “What about Jorge?” Mike questioned.
    “Well… Marithé… Jorge,” Jack struggled.
God, please give me the words.
    Mike grasped Jack's shoulder. “Jorge wouldn't want his family to be left alone. He'd want a good man, a man like you – someone who really loves all three of them – to be there since he can't anymore.”
    Jack's eyes burned. He blinked hard and locked his jaw, teeth grinding. “I don't want to dishonor him.”
    “How is taking care of his family dishonoring him, Jack?” Mike asked patiently, kindly.
    “I don't know, I just think…”
    “And that's your problem,” Mike pointed out. “Stop thinking so much. Sometimes you gotta just… trust your heart, you know?”
    “Yeah, man, I know.” Jack patted Mike on the shoulder and then Mike drew him into an embrace, retaining his masculinity by adding a manly thump on the back. “Thanks, Mike.”
    They