Last Call: A Camden Ranch Novel Page 9

  Dec flung the door open wearing nothing but flannel pajama pants and a frustrated scowl. He brought his mug of tea to his lips. “Holly’s in the shower. You okay?”

  Relieved she hadn’t interrupted anything, Natalie nodded. “Sorry, I know it’s early. I have a question I need you to answer.”

  “Come on in. I’m heading to the clinic in a few minutes.”

  “You’re secretly praying Holly doesn’t use up all the hot water, aren’t you?”

  “Everyone who lives on this ranch always has that prayer, don’t we?”

  “Yeah, but I used to live with her. I know what it’s like never to get a hot shower.”

  Dec smirked. Natalie held up her hand. “Don’t say what you’re thinking. I don’t want to hear about you two showering together.”

  “A man has to do what he has to do.” Dec laughed. “Want some tea?”

  “Do you have any coffee?”

  “I’m shit at making the stuff. Holly won’t let me touch the maker anymore.”

  “It’s fine. I had some at home.”

  “How long have you been up?”

  “I already brought in all of the horses and fed them.”

  “That’s early even for a cowgirl.”

  “I was up anyway.”

  “Something wrong?”

  “No. I was up because I’m excited.” Dammit, how did Declan always manage to get her to confess things she didn’t intend to? Had to be some kind of psychologist superpower or something.

  “Excited about Aaron?”

  “Yeah, and he’s who I wanted to ask you about.”

  “Sit.” Dec pointed to a chair at the kitchen table.

  “Last night Aaron told me he has trouble sleeping. He wouldn’t elaborate much. I know that you know why he can’t sleep and I want you to tell me.”

  Setting down his mug, Dec’s head fell into his hands. “Jesus H. Christ, I’m going to end up losing my license over you two.”

  “Why?”

  With an audible sigh, he shook his head. “I cannot discuss anything that goes on in my practice or with one of my patients with anyone else. It’s against the law.”

  “But I’m family.”

  “That doesn’t mean there aren’t laws.”

  “I’ll ask Holly.”

  “She won’t tell you either.”

  “Ha!” Her familiar stubbornness held the line. It was the one thing in her life she could always count on. Marching up the stairs in her sister’s house she flung open the master bathroom door. “It’s me.”

  Dec followed her into the steamy bathroom.

  Holly poked her wet head around the shower curtain. “One of you hand me that hair conditioning mask I left on the counter.”

  Natalie grabbed the jar and handed it over.

  “Is it not at all strange to you that your sister is in our bathroom?” Dec asked.

  “Nah.” Holly ducked back around the curtain. “This mask has to sit for ten minutes but then I’ll be out to make coffee.”

  “I don’t need coffee. I need to know why Aaron has trouble sleeping at night,” Natalie shouted over the sound of rapidly falling water.

  “He has PTSD.”

  “Holly!” Dec scolded.

  “What?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, HIPPA.”

  “He’s not technically my patient. I’m also not technically a doctor yet and she’s my sister.”

  “Dear God.”

  “Told you.” Natalie laughed in Dec’s face. “What is PTSD?”

  “I’m going back downstairs to pretend I do not hear any of this.”

  “Hang on. I’ll get out and tell you then get back in and rinse this out. The things I do for you.” The incessant fall of water halted abruptly. Holly stepped out with her hair up in a plastic cap. She wrapped a towel around her. “PTSD stands for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. It’s awful. A lot of patients have night terrors from it. They can also have flashbacks that are also usually worse at night. That’s probably why he can’t sleep.”

  “Holly, for the love of God,” Dec bellowed from the bottom of the stairs.

  “All right fine. There’s probably tons of info on the internet. I don’t know any of Aaron’s specifics but I told you he’d understand some of the stuff you don’t like to talk about.”

  So that was why Holly had given in so quickly. She wanted Natalie to talk to Aaron about what had happened to her. Too bad. Maybe whatever kept Aaron from sleeping had to do with the guy in the picture with him. She couldn’t ask him. Not yet.

  Maybe she could figure some of it out when she met his friends that night. “Would you mind checking on my calves? I need to do some research.”

  “Yeah, okay, but you owe me big time. Never ever tell Aaron I said anything. Dec really could get in trouble.”

  “I swear I won’t.”

  Holly held up her wet pinky finger. Grinning at her little sister, Natalie linked their hands. “Pinky swear.”

  She raced back down the stairs. “I’ll never say anything to Aaron. I pinky swore to it.”

  “Oh, good. That’s sure to hold up in my state disciplinary medical board hearing,” Dec huffed.

  “You have to love me because you married my baby sister.”

  “Yes, well, she’s been nothing but trouble since the very beginning.”

  “She’s worth it.”

  “She’s more than worth it, and you can quote me on that.”

  “I’ll be sure to tell the disciplinary board.” Natalie raced out of the house.

  Aaron had told Natalie a few stories about crap the Sevens had gotten into back in the day, but he’d kept it to quick, insignificant tales. He didn’t want to describe them to her. He didn’t want to reduce them to their scars. He couldn’t. They were so much more than remnants of the worst day of all of their lives.

  “I used to go to the Hi-Way Diner when I would come out here to visit Holly while she was at UN. I love their fries.”

  “They do have killer fries. We like it because it’s quiet and even when there are dozens of people in there you can hear yourself think.”

  “Not like Saddlebacks.”

  “Saddlebacks isn’t as bad as some bars I’ve been in. Ever been to Europe?”

  Natalie shook her head. She also wound her fingers around his right hand as he drove with his left. Perfection. “I’ve never been any further than Vegas. We used to go to Cheyenne every summer but you can’t really vacation when you run a ranch. The animals are rather fond of eating.”

  “True. I was just thinking about how obnoxiously loud every fucking bar in Amsterdam was. Drove me nuts.”

  “Sounds like Vegas.”

  “Yeah, probably. Never been there. Have no desire to go.”

  “I hated it. I went to see Austin compete for the PBR title. Good thing he won or I would’ve been pissed I went to watch him lose.” She laughed.

  “People still come into the bar talking about his title. Must’ve been one hell of a ride.”

  “It was, but I was ready to come back home. I like quiet, too. It’s soothing.”

  Aaron took his eyes off the expanse of road in front of them long enough to smile at her. He brought her hand to his mouth and brushed a kiss on her knuckles, wishing it was her mouth instead. “Can I ask you something, baby?”

  “Sure.” She shrugged.

  “Why’d your brother like getting his ass thrown off of bulls? Sounds like he had a death wish. Your dad should be worried about him being a masochist not me.”

  “No joke. I never understood it and I used to help him practice. Well, after he was sixteen I kind of understood it, but before that we were all worried he had some kind of brain injury from birth or something.”

  “What happened when he was sixteen?”

  “His best friend was killed in a car accident. Austin was driving.”

  “Damn.” A sudden chill lifted every hair on Aaron’s arms. He signaled and changed lanes just to have something to do. He knew all about
losing your best friend. He knew about it being your fault. He sure as hell understood the desire to make sense of it or to kill yourself trying.

  “It was awful. He went on for years refusing to believe it wasn’t his fault.”

  “Yeah, I get that.”

  Natalie kept staring at him. Almost studying him. He wondered what she saw. Unlike his friends, his scars were almost always covered, as long as he was clothed. Without granting himself permission first, he pressed his tongue to the inside of his right cheek. The long gash was concealed by his beard.

  Two hours later, Aaron pulled into the parking lot of the Hi-Way Diner. Griff’s brand new, jet-black Silverado and was parked in the lot right beside Smith’s Acadia Denali. He’d never regretted sending his army pension to his foster parents, but he wished he had a little money to spoil Natalie with. Opening her door for her, he wrapped his arm around her and guided her inside.

  The crack in the sidewalk just outside the door and the low hum of the patrons in the Hi-Way were drenched with familiarity. Aaron pulled Natalie closer. The rhythmic click of her boots washed away as they stepped from the tile to the carpeted floor. He found himself missing the sound. For a guy who preferred silence, it was an odd sensation.

  “All right, try not to drool or make her wish I’d never brought her here,” Aaron commanded as they approached the table in the back corner, the Sevens customary spot. Despite his warning, Smith and T-Byrd let out low wolf-whistles when Natalie offered them a sweet grin.

  She tucked back into Aaron and he glared at the men he’d walked through hell with. “Don’t embarrass her either.” He popped T-Byrd on the back of the head. “I can still beat the shit out of all you at the same time.”

  Griff at least looked amused.

  “Natalie, this is T-Byrd, Griff, Voodoo, and Echo or Thomas, Griffin, Vincent, and Smith if you’d prefer. Idiots at large, this is Natalie Camden. For the love of God act like you have some kind of human DNA.”

  “He talk to you like he talks to us, sweet thang?” Voodoo tipped his cowboy hat to her. “I’ve got cuffs in my truck and I can shove a napkin in his mouth to keep him quiet if you want.”

  “He’s a lot nicer to me.” Natalie wrinkled her adorable nose.

  “He better be.” T-Byrd stood and offered his hand. Natalie pretended she didn’t notice the jagged, thinned skin that ran the length of his hand and disappeared under his rolled up sleeves, but Aaron knew she’d seen them. “Triple A is all about getting people out of trouble, honey. But I can get you into all kinds of trouble if you’d like to trade in one snake eater for another.”

  “Snake eater?”

  “It’s a stupid name for Army Operatives. Ignore him.” Aaron pulled out a chair for Natalie and shot another predatory glare to his friends.

  “Operatives like Special Ops?” Great. Now she was curious.

  “Yeah, want me to order you some fries?”

  “Sure. And I take it you’re Triple A?” She elbowed him.

  “Something like that.”

  Natalie turned her questions to the Sevens. “Do I get to know how he got his nickname? I’m sure he won’t tell me.”

  Aaron snorted. “Because you’re so forthcoming with info, babe.”

  She stuck her tongue out at him and his friends erupted in laughter.

  “Oh, I like you.” Smith chuckled. “You should come with Triple A every month.”

  “Well, maybe I will if you tell me why you call him that.”

  “A negotiator. Now I know why he fell for you.”

  “Shut it,” Aaron ordered.

  “Geez, get him a beer. He got the nickname partly because he’s Aaron Alexander Weber but mostly because he got us out of trouble more than a few times,” T-Byrd supplied.

  Natalie gave him one of those full force smiles that took his breath away. “That sounds like him. Why are you T-Byrd?” She wasn’t going to let this go, and T looked far too thrilled for Aaron’s liking.

  “’Cause I’m in and out hard and fast, baby, as many times as you like.”

  Her brow furrowed. She didn’t understand the joke. Jesus help him. “T,” he growled.

  “Sorry.” A half-second glance Aaron shared with T told him everything he needed to know. She was that naive. She needed to be protected. Whatever had happened to her had affected the rest of her life. “Uh, my name is Thomas Thursten Byrd because clearly my parents hate me. Nickname went with my job as a HALO jumper. I can get in, find who or what we need, and get out.”

  “What’s a HALO jumper?” She was loving this. Aaron wondered if he could make up some reason they needed to leave. He didn’t want to go there. Not tonight. Never again.

  “Stands for High Altitude Low Open jumps. T was the best at them,” Aaron forced an explanation.

  “Like parachute jumps? You jumped out of planes?” The entire restaurant had to have heard her.

  “On occasion. Could we just order?” Aaron pointed to the waitress standing by their table.

  “Sorry.” Her teeth sank into her bottom lip and Aaron hated himself all the more.

  Fuck, he was being an ass for no good reason. She was always curious. That was one of the things he adored about her. “We were a Special Ops team back in the day. Team Seven. That’s why we call ourselves the Sevens. We were airborne, specialized in search and rescue and intelligence acquisitions but that was a long time ago.”

  “Wow, I had no idea. That’s amazing. I can’t believe you jumped out of planes.”

  “Used to love it.” Aaron tried desperately to give her something other than the ragged remnants of his soul. The red and yellow glow of the neon diner lights leached from his sight. The grayness he fought constantly crept slowly across his skin.

  “Tell us how you and Triple A met.” Griff came to his rescue, he always did.

  “I’m from Pleasant Glen, where he works. It’s pretty rare that anyone new moves in. We started talking one night at the bar. We’ve been friends for a while. He’s one of my favorite people, actually.” She squeezed his thigh.

  Breath expanded in Aaron’s lungs. His pulse steadied. Life itself jolted through him. How the hell could that be true? He was nothing. He was broken beyond repair. But he swore any fragment he had left he’d give to her if he could just keep being one of her favorite people.

  “Yeah, we’re pretty fond of him, too, even when he is being an ass,” Smith taunted.

  “What’s it like to jump out of a plane?” She asked T.

  “Well, I could show you sometime if you want.”

  “You still do it?”

  “No rush like air hitting you in the face at 120 miles per hour.”

  “I’m way too much of a coward to ever do that.”

  “No, you’re not,” Aaron’s voice returned to him. “You’re one of the bravest people I know and that includes all of these yahoos.”

  Natalie’s scoff said she didn’t believe him. He added that to his mission specs. Prove to her how strong and brave she was.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “So, we get down to this tiny bumblefuck town in Georgia the day before we start Airborne school.” T launched into yet another tale.

  “Don’t tell that story,” Aaron groaned. Truthfully, he didn’t mind. Once he’d gotten over himself, he was actually enjoying watching Natalie absorb everything his army issued brothers discussed. Having her there somehow made every story better. He inhaled her fascination like a drug. It eased the pain of the times no one told stories about.

  “Aww come on, this one’s on me anyway. That was the first time you bailed my ass out of a sling,” T-Byrd vowed.

  “I want to hear it,” Natalie urged.

  “We go into this bar that’s supposed to have cheap beer and ladies with a thing for men in uniform.”

  Aaron shook his head, laughing at what was to come. “I feel the need to tell you that I went back to the barracks alone. T did not.”

  “That’s the truth,” T confirmed. “Anyway, I got nice and cozy with t
his redhead in the bar and decided that no one would ever know if I snuck her back in with me for a little while.”

  “I take it that didn’t go as well as you thought it would.” Natalie giggled.

  “That would be a very safe bet, sweetheart,” Aaron assured her.

  “I got her on base just fine. It’s just that I’d had enough beers to drown a sailor so I passed out as soon as I blew my wad.”

  “T! You kiss your mama with that mouth?” Aaron admonished.

  Natalie shook her head at them. “It’s okay. Keep going. I have lots of brothers.”

  “We were supposed to be in formation at 0430 the next morning,” Aaron picked up the story. “T’s nowhere to be found. I know he’s gonna get his ass chewed up and spit out and might even get sent back, idiot that he is.”

  “Yeah, so, Triple A tells the C.O. that I’m taking a—uh, that I was in the head. Would’ve worked too, except right about the time I made it to formation Red comes stumbling out of my room.”

  Natalie cringed.

  “That’s not the worst part,” Aaron assured her. “Tell her about SF training.”

  “Yeah, so I find out many weeks later that her daddy is the head of weapon’s instruction for all of Special Forces training. Someone from jump school gave him a call when they saw her coming out of my room that morning. He had a grudge to pick. As soon as my boots touched the ground, he was on my ass. Until Triple A figures out that the guy is a huge University of Alabama fan. A is a fucking brilliant bastard if you haven’t figured that out yet. He tells Instructor Asshat all about how his daughter had too much to drink and that I was worried about her going home with some other guys she was hanging out with that night. Then he casually lets it slip that the guys she’d been hanging with went to Auburn. Triple A tells him that I’d actually stayed in his room that night. That I’d just bought her back to the base so I’d know she was safe while she slept off the booze.”

  “In the South football is like a religion. I knew it would work,” Aaron explained.

  “Like it isn’t here?” Natalie reminded him.

  “Right, so from then on I was a hero. A’s saved my life too fucking many times to count but that will always be the one I appreciate the most, I think. All the others it would’ve been over much faster anyway.”