Serving Trouble (Second Shot 1)

But it had almost been worse seeing it directed at Noah.

Fifteen minutes later, Noah walked down the porch steps and headed over to her. “Let’s go. You’re driving so I can sleep. Consider it part of the assistant manager job.”

“So I get the promotion?” She followed him to her red Mini and opened the driver’s side door. “And a raise?”

“Don’t say a word about Caroline, and yeah, I’ll bump up your hourly.” He opened the passenger side door and settled all six-­foot plus of his muscular body into her compact car. Thank goodness she’d unloaded most of her belongings at her dad’s place.

“I won’t tell a soul.” She buckled her seat belt. “I mean if word got out about how you helped Caroline no one would ever buy your I’m-­a-­surly-­jerk routine again.”

“You heard a helluva lot,” he muttered.

“Enough.” She slid the key into the ignition.

“Look,” he said, turning his head to face her. “A lot of ­people wouldn’t agree with what I did. Testifying against my commanding officer. The marines are like a band of brothers. And I broke that bond. But if I hadn’t said something, it would have been her word against Dustin’s and he claimed he never touched her. My testimony proved otherwise and he changed his story to an affair, pretending she’d consented to sleep with him. And after all that, they expected her to go back and finish her term of ser­vice alongside some of the other guys who’d harassed her.”

“What?” she said. Seeing Caroline now, it was hard to believe anyone would march up to her and demand the she continue to serve. She wasn’t sure Caroline should be allowed to have a weapon, never mind defend their country. “How could they?”

“The men we served with haven’t done anything wrong. I watched her fight alongside these guys, driving them around and getting shot at, only to return to the base and become the butt of their jokes. In the beginning, she played along, trying to be one of the group. And I did too, laughing at some things that were pretty damn inappropriate. But over time, it crossed a line and turned into harassment.”

“She couldn’t do anything?” She felt a large dose of outrage on behalf of the woman who’d pulled a gun on her earlier.

“Against a few good soldiers? That defense still holds a lot of weight, especially when you’re talking about what looks like a grey area. Hell, the only way Caroline got anywhere with her rape case against our commanding officer was because I testified. And even then, Dustin was acquitted for rape. He received a dishonorable discharge for adultery. He was married at the time, and not to Caroline.”

“That’s awful.”

“Yeah.” He turned his head and stared straight out the window. “But that’s how it is. Being a marine doesn’t make a man a hero. I served with plenty of good men and women who deserved the label for their actions. Take away the label—­soldier, sailor, Special Forces, whatever—­and put them in those same situations and they’d still be heroes.”

“You are too,” she said firmly.

“No, I just did my job, which sucked half the time because it turns out I like shooting at paper targets, not ­people. And I took a lot of shit for who I chose to defend.” He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “Planning to start this car anytime soon?”

She turned the key. The car sputtered and made a clicking noise. And then nothing. “Shoot.”

He opened one eye. “Is this toy going to get us there?”

“It’s temperamental.” She turned the key and this time it worked. “See? Fine now.”

“Uh-­huh,” he murmured. “To be clear, I don’t know how to fix this thing if it breaks down between here and Portland.”

“I do. As long as we don’t need a new part. Dominic taught me. But nothing is going to happen today.” She glance

d over at Noah as she reached the top of the drive. He’d already drifted off to sleep. The facial muscles he tried to force into a scowl instead of his breathtaking smile appeared relaxed.

He’s so damn sexy when he sleeps.

“You’re a good man,” she whispered as she turned out of his drive. “I know you are, Noah.”

NOAH COULD HAVE slept for a week. But they reached the brewery in a little over an hour. The owner and brewmaster had started the meeting with a solid “never,” as in Big Buck’s would not sell the West Coast’s hottest beer in this lifetime. But after talking to Josie and hearing her spout numbers as if she’d memorized his books for the last month, the owner had warmed to her suggestions.

Hell, maybe she had memorized the books and analyzed the numbers in her spare time. Back in high school, she’d earned a full ride to college. Noah knew they didn’t hand those out lightly. He’d led his football team to state, but he’d never come close to four free years at a top-­tier university.

Part of him hated the fact that her education was derailed. She could have done a helluva lot more than win over the head of Oregon’s trendiest brewery. But Noah wasn’t about to complain. He’d spent years fighting to keep Big Buck’s afloat. And Josie had turned the brewmaster’s “never” into a one big “yes.” They wanted the new IPA all the college students drove over an hour to purchase because no one carried it in their area? Done. The pale ale too? Not a problem.

An hour later, he followed a triumphant Josie back to her Mini.

“You did a great job,” he said, climbing into her clown car. “Earned that assistant manager position and the right to work with any of the other local breweries directly from here on out.”

“Thank you,” she said. “I enjoy serving drinks, but taking meetings and negotiating? It feels great to go in there and win.”