Worth Fighting For (Warrior Fight Club 2.50)

He nodded and watched her head deeper into the now emptier bar. The knee-high brown boots over a pair of form-fitting jeans that did all kinds of justice to her curves were a killer combination. Not to mention the sway of all those soft waves that tumbled nearly to her waist. Damn, this woman appealed to him on so many levels. Which made him wonder when that next time might be.

It made him hopeful that DC was going to provide the clean slate he really needed it to be. New place, new job, new…friend. New chance to build a life and a career where he didn’t let people down. All the fucking time.

His cell buzzed in his pocket, and he retrieved it to find a text from his mom. Hi Jesse – just wanted to let you know I shared your new number with Willa and everyone so don’t be surprised if you get some calls or messages. Let me know how your first day goes tomorrow. Love you, Mom

Disparate reactions flooded through him. The comfort of being in touch with his mother. The discomfort of just how distant his relationships with his mother and sister were—his fault, of course. And just one more way he’d messed up.

Footsteps from his right alerted him to Tara’s return, and he looked up from checking his phone to see her coming his way. With curves for days and a soft, sexy smile just for him.

That was when he noticed it. A deep slash of a scar that ran diagonally down the right side of her throat. Jesus, he couldn’t begin to imagine what had caused something that pronounced. He’d seen enough injuries to know she’d survived something major—and she’d tried to say she wasn’t interesting.

“Hey,” he said.

She gave his face an appraising glance, one that told him she’d noticed what had caught his attention. “Hey. Oh, let me not forget this.” She pocketed her credit card and signed the receipt.

Then they were sliding on coats and making for the door.

Outside, the air was crisply cold, and he relished the invigorating feeling of it in his lungs. A thin layer of snow crunched underfoot. An occasional car passed by, but mostly it was quiet, peaceful. Tara turned toward him, and all Jesse knew was that, despite needing to be up at oh dark hundred tomorrow for his new job, he wasn’t ready to go back to his hotel. And, truth be told, he wasn’t ready to p

art from her either.

She smiled. “So…”

“Any chance you feel like walking for a while?” he asked, just as the wind gusted, swirling the long ends of her hair around her shoulders. “I get it if it’s too late or too cold.”

Glancing down, she crushed a ball of snow under her boot. Jesse was sure she was going to turn him down. “No, actually, I’d like that. Walk off some of those nachos.”

“And the wings.”

“And the ice cream.”

He grinned. “Have a preferred direction?”

She pointed to the left down M Street. “That way takes us past the Naval Yard, or”—she pointed toward the right—“that way would take us down to the waterfront and The Wharf.”

The last thing he wanted to do tonight was to think about the navy. He’d retired the day he’d gotten his twenty, so it’d been his choice to get out. His choice, also, to parlay a lifetime devoted to combat diving and EOD into a new career in commercial diving. Except there was a little voice in his head that said he’d had no choice at all—not when he’d failed to bring home all his techs. Not when he’d lost eight during the twenty-six-month period before he’d called it quits.

He had to clear the emotion from his throat. “How about to the waterfront?”

“Waterfront it is.”

“You lead and I’ll follow,” he said, enjoying the small smile she gave him. And that she’d agreed to the walk. It made him wonder why she hadn’t been able to sleep, and whether she hadn’t wanted to go home either. It was strange in a good way to think she might understand how he felt.

Then again, he could be overthinking the whole thing.

They walked side by side down the wide sidewalk, passing mostly dark restaurants and coffee shops, or bars closing up just like Murphy’s had been. For more than a block, they didn’t talk, but Jesse didn’t think the quiet felt awkward.

“How long have you been in DC?” she finally asked.

“Not quite a week.”

Her eyes went wide. “So do you have an apartment yet?”

He shook his head. “No, I’m in a Courtyard Marriott for a few weeks until I find a place to stay.”

“Oh, the one by Murphy’s?” she asked, and he nodded. “I think you’re like a block away from me then.”

That was good to know. “Yeah?”