Serial Love: Saints Protection & Investigation by Maryann Jordan Page B

frustration, she said nothing.
    “Thought so,” he chuckled. Then he sobered, looking at her directly. “We sat right here and talked on this porch, Bethany. I’m telling you straight up, I felt something. Wanted something. And I know you wanted it too.”
    She opened her mouth to protest but shut it quickly. He’s right. I did want it. But then he turned on a dime, walked away, and I didn’t see him for weeks. “We didn’t talk, Jack. I did. I talked. I gave you who I was and you gave me nothing of yourself. I let you in, but you just walked away.”
    “Yeah, I can see it in your eyes, doll. But I live a life that doesn’t offer white picket fences and decided right here on this porch that I needed to leave.” He leaned back in his chair, taking another drink from his beer.
    Her eyes watched the muscles in his neck as he tipped his head back and drank. His beard was neatly trimmed and she fought the desire to reach over to touch it. Run her fingers through it as she ran her tongue along its edges. He set the bottle down and grinned, jerking her back to reality as she knew she had been caught ogling. Again.
    “So you decided to invade my privacy?” she asked, warring between wanting to tell him to get off her property and desperately wanting to know why he was here, on her porch, explaining his life to her.
    “Yep,” came his reply.
    Once again, they fell into silence. By now the families were settled and with the fishermen gone, the grounds were very quiet. She remembered the events of the afternoon. The anger…and fear…she felt at the drunken brawl right at her feet. What would have happened if Jack hadn’t shown up? Could I have stopped them? Would they have stopped? Would the fight have gotten more out of hand and someone gotten seriously hurt? Gram? Would the other guests have checked out in fear?
    “None of that shit happened, babe, so you can get it out of your mind,” he said quietly.
    Jerking her incredulous gaze back to him once more, she cried, “How do you know what I’m thinking all the time?”
    Chuckling, he said, “Girl, your face gives you away. Your thoughts and feelings are written all over it.”
    “Well, you must be an expert at reading faces because I don’t think I’m that easy to read,” she retorted.
    He said nothing for a moment and she thought he was not going to reply until finally he quietly agreed, “I am.”
    Not understanding, she waited, already knowing he would speak when he wanted.
    “I grew up on a farm in southwest Virginia. Good parents. Worked hard, but knew the farming life wasn’t for me. Pop wanted me to go to college, but I wanted to join the military. So we compromised. Did two years, got my associates degree and then joined. Made it all the way to the Special Forces. Worked hard there and ended up on an elite squad. Best goddamn team a man could ever want to work with.”
    He became quiet again, so she asked, “You want another beer?”
    “Wouldn’t turn one down,” he answered. He watched as she rose from her chair and walked inside. Haven’t told anyone these stories other than the men I work with. The realization of what he was doing hit him, but never a man to back away from a challenge…he was ready.
    She returned carrying another cold bottle, handing it to him. He dragged his fingers across hers before taking the beer, noting the spark between them and the pleasure of seeing that she noticed it also. As she settled back into her seat he took a drink before he began again.
    “The squad’s leader, Tony Alvarez, left the Army and within a few months, some of the others did as well. They had served several tours and were ready for the civilian life. He started a security business in Richland and has three or four of my brothers-in-arms working with him.”
    “You didn’t get out then?” she asked, wondering why he did not do the same.
    He shook his head. “I was offered a chance to do another mission. A different kind of operation. Worked