Serving Trouble (Second Shot 1)

“Dom, I need you to come home and kick my ass for laying a hand on your sister,” he murmured to the picture on the bedside table. He stood in the center holding up a trophy. “I need something to keep me away from her.”

Because it feels a helluva lot like she is the only one I want and need.

He stripped off his pants, tossed them on the unmade bed, and headed for the attached bath. Running his hand over his chin, he turned to the mirror. He should probably shave too, but he was too damn tired.

Where the hell had Dustin disappeared to? He turned on the shower and stepped under the cool stream without waiting for the water to warm. He hadn’t seen any signs of a campsite, or even footprints in the wet ground from the light rain a few nights back.

He suspected their former CO was trying to terrorize Caroline. Back on the base in Afghanistan, the scumbag had laughed when he’d run into Noah escorting Caroline to the bathroom in the middle of the night. He teased her for needing a chaperone to take a piss. It had taken a helluva lot of restraint to keep from punching the higher-­ranking marine. But Noah had held back knowing Caroline deserved her day in court.

And all the bastard got was a slap on the wrist for adultery. I should have knocked him out when I had the chance.

This time, he would land a hit or two. While he’d taken Caroline’s gun, he planned to keep one locked in his truck.

“Noah!” He heard a pounding on his bedroom door as Caroline called out a second time. “Noah!”

“In the shower,” he said, doubting she heard him over the water. He leaned his head back, rinsing the shampoo out.

“There’s a . . .”

He couldn’t make out the rest. He turned the water off, stepped out, and reached for a towel.

“Did you hear me?” The panic was rising in her voice and she screamed through the door. “There’s a patrol car out front!”

Noah secured the towel at his waist and headed for the door, leaving a trail of water on the linoleum bathroom floor and then the carpeted bedroom.

“Did an officer get out of the car?” he demanded, opening the door.

A pale-­faced Caroline shook her head.

“Might be Josie’s dad,” he reassured her. Without bothering to take the time to pull on clothes, he headed for the stairs. If they were here for Caroline, if someone had tipped them off, he couldn’t let her meet them alone.

He reached the kitchen and spotted the car sitting in the gravel parking area that separated the house from the barn. The side read “Forever Police Department.” And he breathed a sigh of relief. Not the state troopers. He knew every cop working under Josie’s dad. Hell, maybe his neighbor had reported him for snooping around his property by the chicken coop at dawn.

But the door to the police car didn’t open. Noah pushed through the door to his house and scanned the front seat of the car. The person in the driver’s seat had long, dark hair.

/>

Josie?

“What the hell?” With the faded blue towel keeping his private parts out of view, he walked out onto the porch. “Stay here,” he called to Caroline.

“Shoes would have been a good idea,” he muttered as he crossed the gravel to the car. He headed for the driver’s side window and knocked.

Josie turned to look up at him. Her fingers maintained a white-­knuckled grip on the steering wheel. And her eyes . . . red and overflowing with tears. Her cheeks were wet. Even though her hands maintained a tight hold on the wheel, her arms trembled as sobs shook her body.

“Josie!” He pulled opened the driver’s side door and took a knee right there in the gravel. He didn’t care if the rocks tore his skin to pieces because one look at her face, a mask of pain and anguish covering her go-­to defiant expression, and he knew. Someone had died.

Dominic.

He reached up and placed his hand on her cheek. He didn’t trust himself to pull her from the car. Even kneeling on the ground, his legs felt like Jell-­O. As soon as she said the words—­the ones that he fucking knew were coming—­then he would need to turn away from the truck and throw up.

Gently, he turned her face toward his. “What is it, Josie?” he whispered.

“Dad got a call early this morning.” She hiccupped as the tears trickled faster and faster, rushing over her cheeks and his hand. “Dominic was injured.”

“Injured. Not dead?”

She nodded and he placed his free hand on her leg to keep from falling forward with relief.