The Summer He Came Home (Bad Boys of Crystal Lake 1)

She stepped back and arched a brow. “You planning on spending the night?”

“Excuse me?” Jake answered carefully, not understanding her angle.

Raine licked her lips, the heightened color in her cheeks a healthy pink in an otherwise pale face. She pointed toward his bag. “Did you pack extra boxers and your toothbrush?”

“No.” Jake shook his head. “This is just…”

She turned before he could finish and indicated that he follow her inside as she strolled down the hall, the puppy still in her arms, hips swaying gently. He couldn’t help himself. His eyes roved her figure hungrily, taking in every inch from the top of her head to the bottom of her bare feet. His mouth tightened, a frown settling across his brow because he sure as hell didn’t like what he saw. She was too thin. Too pale.

Too much like the ghosts he saw wand

ering the base in Fort Hood. War widows and widowers, distraught families, and friends. All of them had that look. Christ he saw it every day he looked in the mirror, but Raine…damn, he wanted more for her.

Then maybe I should have done something about it. He winced at the thought, mostly because it was the truth.

The house was brightly lit, the sun that shone in through the windows creating warmth against the rich, oak floors. For a second Jake faltered as the heaviness of the moment slipped over him. So many memories he’d tried to forget. He’d helped his brother restore the entire main floor the last time they’d been home on leave nearly two years ago. It was the last time all three of them had been together.

A male voice interrupted his train of thought and for a moment the hot flush of something fierce washed through him. He jerked his head, hackles up and stared at her in silence, hands fisted tightly at his sides.

Raine paused in the doorway that led to the living room/dining area and glanced over her shoulder—eyes still questioning, mouth still tight.

“Look what I found on the porch,” she announced and walked into the living room. Jake took a moment and then followed suit, halting just inside the room.

“Son of a bitch!” Mackenzie Draper, one of his oldest buddies, set his beer onto the low slung table in front of the sofa and rose, a smile splitting his face wide open. “You didn’t say anything about coming home for the holidays.”

Jake grinned. “It wasn’t in the plans last time I saw you.”

“Wait a minute,” Raine interrupted. “When did you see Jake?” Her gaze focused on Mac, who shifted uncomfortably.

“I had business in Texas a few months back and we got together for a drink.”

“Texas,” Raine muttered. “Right.”

She turned stormy eyes his way and Jake flinched at the hurt and accusation that colored them a darker hue. He felt even more like a shit.

“Nice that you have time for some of your friends, Jake.”

“It wasn’t,” Mackenzie began, “planned really. I had a couple of extra days and we got together.”

Raine set the puppy down. “That’s a hell of a lot more than I ever got.” She didn’t bother to hide the bitterness in her words.

Jake ignored the taunt and remained silent, his eyes locked onto Mackenzie’s. His friend was dressed in an expensive suit, tailored to fit his tall frame, the charcoal gray a nice choice against the plum shirt. Though his collar was loose and a thin black tie lay on the table in front of him, Mac always looked GQ ready. With his thick, dirty blond hair and vibrant green eyes, he’d been labeled a pretty boy his entire life.

It was good to see him. “You home for the holidays too?” Jake asked.

Mackenzie shook his head. “Nah, I don’t think Ben would appreciate it if I crashed his long weekend. I had business in Detroit and thought I’d squeeze in a visit with my mother.”

He glanced at his watch. “I gotta hit the road.” He arched a brow. “It’s a good ten hours until I hit New York.”

Mackenzie paused a few inches from Jake, his eyes intense as he studied Jake in silence. “You look like shit, soldier.”

“I’m not a soldier anymore.”

“No, I suppose you’re not.” The two men stared at each other for several moments and then Mackenzie lowered his voice. “I miss him too.”

The band of pain that sat around Jake’s chest tightened and he nodded, a lump in his throat. “Yeah,” he muttered.

They shook hands, but when Jake would have pulled away Mackenzie held on for a quick hug. “Don’t be such a douche bag and stay in touch.” Mackenzie stepped back and cocked his head to the side. “Give your Dad my best. He’s a tough son of a bitch, so I wouldn’t worry too much.”