Mending Hearts (The American Soldier Collection 11)

“Well, I could have handled that. It’s all I’m saying,” she told him, and he released her wrist and hand and gently glided a finger along her jaw.

“He was out of line and three times your size. At least he’ll reconsider being disrespectful to you the next time,” Gator told her and then leaned back onto the stool.

“If there is a next time, I get to throw him out on his ass,” Geno said and chuckled, and then Jeb did too, lightening up the confrontation she had with Gator.

He sure was a big man. He displayed intimidation well.

* * * *

Gator was furious. He couldn’t believe how pissed off he got hearing Sawyer talk to Alana like that. She was a classy young woman who deserved respect. Even in the black V-neck T-shirt with the Casper’s logo on it and her tight blue jeans, she looked amazing. As she turned away and went toward another group of guys to take their drink orders, he watched her ass and the way she filled out those blue jeans. He caught the eyes of the other men roaming over her abundant breasts and then to her gorgeous face. It fueled his anger, and he realized he was fucking jealous.

He took a deep breath and cursed as he turned away. He couldn’t look. He couldn’t watch more men undress her with their eyes and hear their flirty comments.

“This is going to be a long fucking night,” Jeb stated with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

Geno took a sip from his beer and kept his eyes on Alana. His expression was calm. How the fuck could he be so calm?

“Just relax. We’re here and keeping an eye on things. Men are going to flirt with her. Look at her. She's fucking hot, and she smells incredible,” Geno whispered, his eyes never leaving Alana’s body.

“Are Jaxon and Gabe coming here too? Maybe it’s not such a good idea,” Jeb told Gator.

“Hell if I know. Gabe was in a shit-ass mood. Jaxon talked with him, or at least tried to, and got nowhere. Gabe won’t discuss his relationship with Alana and why he doesn’t even want to talk with her,” Gator told Jeb.

“It’s all part of his recovery process. The life, the things he did and had before the war don’t exist. They were another time, another place, when he was a different man,” Geno told them, and Gator turned around to face him.

“What?”

“Don’t look at me like you don’t get it. We’ve all been where Gabe is. Maybe not to the extent because the rest of us haven’t sustained any permanent physical injuries, just psychological. Gabe’s got a chuck of flesh out of his leg, remnants of the shrapnel imbedded in his body, and he can’t walk without the cane. Any of you think that maybe he feels less of a man?”

Gator ran his hand over his mouth.

“Fuck, no. Gabe’s always been such a gung ho hard-ass fuck. He never gave up, always had the drive, the determination to overcome obstacles and not be defeated. Hell, he was top of our training group on Special Teams. I watched him complete some of those crazy obstacle courses. Hell, I watched him locate and destroy potential terrorist operatives before they could strike and kill unknowing US soldiers. The man was meant to be a soldier, a Marine.”

“Exactly,” Geno said then glanced back down toward the end of the bar.

“Look who’s talking to Alana now,” Jeb interrupted as he slid off his seat and moved closer to the bar.

Gator turned to look and nearly bit the inside of his cheek.

“Haslow Walker and his three buddies. Special Forces and so damn arrogant since they claimed the title of best team marksmen in the fall shooting competition,” Gator whispered.

“We could take them. Easily,” Geno replied.

“But we wouldn’t enter without Gabe. It wouldn’t be right,” Jeb added.

Gator clenched his teeth as Haslow leaned over the bar to whisper to Alana. The place was getting louder, and it was obvious she couldn’t hear him as she leaned closer and closed her eyes. Gator watched her eyes pop open, and her face turned a nice shade of red. She shook her head and laughed.

“I don’t think we’re serving that here,” she told him, and he chuckled and continued to try and talk with her. She listened as his buddies joined in. Jake, Vincent, and even Tito flirted with her.

She walked away after making their drinks and headed back toward Gator and his friends. Gator locked gazes with Haslow as his and his team’s eyes watched Alana’s ass.

As soon as Haslow’s eyes landed on Gator’s, his expression changed. He lifted his mug of beer and gave a smirk. Gator disliked that asshole. So did the others.

“Need some refills, gentlemen?” Alana asked, and before he could reply Geno was curling his finger toward Alana, asking her to come closer.

She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth as she leaned forward, her body language different than when Haslow was close to her and whispering into her ear.

Geno reached up and tugged on her hair, letting his hand move along the back of her neck under her hair. He said something to her, and her face instantly reddened. Then she turned slightly and locked gazes with Gator. Gator was still angry over Haslow’s flirtatious moves that he didn’t break his expression, and before he thought to give Alana a nicer expression, she began to move back.