Born on the 4th of July Read online

  “Told you,” Jacob said to Austin. He looked at Cord. “Okay, we’re not asking. Pack your stubborn ass up and let’s go.”

  Austin, the middle brother, the peacemaker, knew better. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Jacob, when has that ever worked?”

  Jacob wouldn’t care. They were brothers, they fought more than not, but the bottom line was that they took care of each other. Always had. Cord knew that Jacob didn’t see anything wrong with using strong-arm tactics to get his way.

  But he wasn’t going.

  “There’s no reason for you to be alone,” Jacob tried in the low, reasonable tone that made him such a good cop. “We can—”

  “I want to be alone.”

  They just looked at Cord, silently considering the best way to muscle him through this. And into that tense silence, Lexi sauntered back through the front door, swinging a six-pack, wearing her sweet, sexy grin.

  So sexy. Cord wondered how he’d never noticed just how much until she’d come for him.

  Or how long her legs were until she’d wrapped them around his hips.

  Or how her eyes promised that they’d only just gotten started…

  “Hi,” she said, and sent his brothers a little wave. “You two joining us for pizza and beer?”

  “No,” Jacob said. “We’re dragging his sorry ass back with us.”

  “No,” Cord told her. “They’re not.”

  “Cord,” Austin said. “We don’t want you to be alone.”

  “He’s not.” Though Lexi kept her smile in place, her eyes were on Cord, quiet and assessing. “Alone, that is. I’m here.”

  “Lexi,” Jacob said, just as quiet and assessing. “I know you’re a good friend, but knowing my knuckle-headed brother, he’s underplayed his injuries. He needs daily PT, around-the-clock care, and—”

  “Yes,” Lexi said, nodding, her eyes still on Cord’s, holding his gaze prisoner. “I understand. But it’s going to be fine. He wants to be home, and I’m here.”

  Austin turned to Cord, shaking his head. “It’s your choice, man. But—”

  “I’m staying,” Cord said, looking at Lexi, who nodded. “And, like she said, it’s going to be fine.”

  “Better than fine,” she said firmly. “I plan to make sure of it.”

  “She’ll make sure of it,” Cord repeated to his brothers, wishing that could involve seeing her naked again. Because that had done more for his body than anything had in weeks.

  But he had to make sure it didn’t happen. He had no business leading her on.

  Jacob narrowed his eyes, dividing a look between Cord and Lexi. “Is something happening between you two?”

  “Do we need to go over curfew time, Dad?” Cord asked drily.

  As always, Austin stepped in. “I know you mean well, Lexi, but it’s a huge responsibility to lay on you.”

  “It’s what friends are for,” Lexi murmured.

  Right.

  Friends.

  They were just friends, and no matter what happened, or how many times she dropped her towel—and, how he’d loved that—they were just friends.

  Unless…unless they changed their minds. No one had said they couldn’t change their minds. Thing was, he didn’t see her doing that. She played it cool and she played it tough. She protected herself always, and he knew she wouldn’t easily let down that guard for anyone.

  And he didn’t know if he could let down his own guard enough to even want her to.

  4

  JACOB AND Austin stayed for the pizza and beer. They all watched a DVD, a comedy, and though Cord’s brothers tried to talk to him about what had happened overseas, both the injuries he’d suffered and the fact that life as he’d known it was over, he remained stubbornly mute.

  Lexi understood that his brothers meant well, but she also understood that Cord needed time.

  Time and space.

  Something she was perfectly willing to give him—to a point. Actually, she was willing to give him whatever he needed, she just happened to disagree with him on what that was. To that end, she came up with a plan. Operation Bring Cord Back to Life. She would go about it as methodically as she’d go about any task, the goal being to remind him of what he was missing out on.

  ON CORD’S second day home, she brought him his mail. He looked at her and asked, “Need my showerhead again?”

  I need you again, she almost said. And maybe her eyes had said it because he slowly shook his head. “Bad idea, Lexi.”

  Right. Bad idea.

  But why was it that bad ideas always sounded so damn good?

  “I need to be alone,” he said.

  “You can be alone after I’m gone.”

  He stood there glowering, but she set her hands lightly on his abs—Lord, those abs!—and gently pushed him aside, letting herself in.

  He sighed and followed her to the couch. They watched a 24 repeat on TV and when an explosion rocked Jack Bauer’s world, Cord turned off the TV and tossed the remote aside. Silence.

  She took his hand, and he let her. “You’re alive,” she said loudly into the quiet afternoon, and squeezed his fingers. “You can recover from anything if you’re alive.”

  He absorbed that a moment, running his thumb over her palm. “Question is, where do I go from here?”

  “You spend the time recovering before deciding that.” But looking into his face, seeing the frustration and the vulnerability she was quite certain he didn’t mean to project, her heart squeezed. “You’ll find something else to do that will fulfill you the same way saving the world did.”

  He closed his eyes.

  Apparently he was done talking.

  Time and space, she reminded herself. And her plan, with its goal.

  With that goal in mind, Lexi brought Cord lunch and his mail every day after her shift at work, pretty much bullying her way into his life, getting him to his appointments, driving him to the store, being a general pain in his ass, but at least getting him up and out.

  Every single time she appeared, he was no friendlier than he’d been the time before, but she was wearing him down, she could tell.

  Actually, more accurately, he probably allowed her in because she wasn’t taking no for an answer. She was a bulldog.

  Everyone else he knew was treading gently and treating him like a cracked egg. She knew this because she was around him enough to hear all his high-decibel phone conversations.

  At night, his brothers came over with dinner, and usually stayed past Lexi’s bedtime. Not difficult, since she went to bed early to get up before the crack of dawn for work. Which meant that there’d been no more chances for additional naked incidents. Darn it.

  On Cord’s third day back, Lexi had brought him the usual—his mail and lunch, plus two Popsicles. Cord watched as she sat next to him on the couch where he’d been on his laptop. He took a Popsicle and almost smiled. “Grape?”

  “Yep.”

  “What are we, five?”

  She sucked her Popsicle into her mouth and his eyes darkened. He had no more comments.

  They sucked in silence awhile, and then Lexi asked him what was wrong. Besides the obvious.

  “I’m so fucking bored all the time.”

  “Means you’re healing.”

  He shook his head. “I thought of you this morning at the crack of dawn and I almost waited by your car to beg you to take me with you to work. And I don’t know a daisy from a lily.” He let out a breath. “I don’t know what to do with myself.”

  “You do whatever you want, Cord. What do you want?”

  His eyes followed the path of her tongue as it circled her Popsicle, and suddenly she could barely breathe. Oh, boy, what she hoped he wanted… “Jacob works for the P.D.,” she said. “Maybe you could, too.”

  He arched a surprised brow.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Every damn person I know wants me to sit on my ass for the rest of my life and be safe, my brothers included. And yet you suggest another dan
gerous job.” He smiled. And good Lord, it was a beauty. “You’re different, Lexi.”

  “Different bad or different good?”

  He just looked at her some more, those eyes smoldering. “I can’t answer, on the grounds it might incriminate me.”

  He was flirting with her…

  She was afraid to point that out, afraid to scare him off, but something deep inside her tightened. If he could flirt, he really was feeling better.

  The next afternoon she brought him a stack of games and made him play. They started with Pictionary, and she actually made him laugh at her stick drawings. A full-bellied laugh that stopped her heart and filled it with warmth. “How was physical therapy?” she asked.

  He shrugged, the same answer she’d gotten in the car earlier when she’d dropped him off at home. She knew his physical therapist had him working on losing the crutches and graduating to a cane. “You putting weight on the leg?”

  “Yeah. With a fucking cane.”

  “That’s great!”

  “Old guys use a cane, Lexi.”

  “Hey, a cane can be sexy. It’s all in how you wield it.”

  He gave her a long look. “You think a cane is sexy.”

  No, she thought he was sexy. In anything. “Can we be done talking about your cane woes now? I have a real dilemma. Brownies or cookies for dessert?”

  A WEEK LATER, Lexi found him alone in his yard, a big, bad, hurting ex-special ops soldier lying inclined on a lounge, brooding off into the distance. The scent of the sea air brushed over her and she watched as it ruffled Cord’s short dark hair and flirted with the T-shirt stretched tautly across his chest.

  He was staring at the ocean, unnaturally still, and she worried that his PT had pushed him too hard again. Because, God knew, Cord was so stubborn he’d work until he was dead if it meant healing faster. With a deep breath, she moved across the grass and came to a stand in front of him.

  He didn’t budge.

  “Cord,” she said softly, and put her other hand to his arm.

  He launched out of the chair, his hand on her wrist in a death grip tight enough that he could have snapped it like a twig if he’d tried.

  It took him less than a second to register who she was and let go of her as if she was a hot potato. Staggering backward, off balance since his cane was on the ground, he sank to the lounge. “Did I hurt you?”

  “I’m tougher than you might think.” She smiled, but he didn’t.

  He turned away, clearly pissed, but she knew that his anger was directed at himself, not her. Which left her in a quandary. She stared at his broad back, wanting to hug the hell out of him and never let go. She wanted to hug away his suffering, his pain and the horrific memories, but he’d hate that.

  So she went in another direction. First she moved to where he could see her, then handed him an ice cream sandwich. Silently, he took it. “Where’s yours?”

  “I already ate it.”

  He almost smiled at that, she could tell. He took a bite, then offered her one, as well. Putting her hand over his, she bent in close and took a lick at the vanilla ice cream squeezing out through the chocolate biscuits.

  His eyes went black.

  Liking the change in him from bad tension to a sexual one, she licked again.

  His eyes carefully followed the movement, shooting flames now. “Lexi.”

  His voice was that low sexy rasp that always made her nipples hard. “Yes?” she managed.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Distracting you. Is it working?”

  He looked at her halter top, at the way her nipples were poking against the fabric. “Little bit.”

  Holy smokes. “So. Is this today’s plan?” she asked casually, telling herself not to notice how he looked in his threadbare jeans, but, oh, God help her, those jeans! “Sleeping away the day?”

  He said nothing.

  “I thought maybe that would be getting old by now.” More nothing.

  “Because I came over here to see if you wanted to go to the beach and bodysurf, but hey, if you’re going to be lazy…”

  He looked at her in silent disbelief. “Bodysurfing,” he repeated slowly, and she couldn’t blame him. But she refused to let him give up. So he couldn’t be a badass special ops guy anymore. There were other things.

  “I can barely stand,” he pointed out. “I think it’s safe to say bodysurfing isn’t in my near future.”

  “How about just floating in the water, out past the waves?” They’d done that together before, plenty of times. He swam like a fish. He also looked damn good in his board shorts, which was a sight she’d like to see again. “Have you tried it? Come on,” she said, and stood, hands on hips. “Get up.”

  “Lexi.”

  She clucked like a chicken and he stared at her in shock. “You think I’m afraid?”

  Alpha men and their fear of admitting fear. “Are you?” she challenged.

  “Jesus.” He scrubbed a hand down his face. But he reached for his cane, made his painful way to his feet and glared at her. “You used to be nice.”

  She smiled. “Still am. Nice and sweet.”

  “I’ll give you the nice, since you’ve been feeding me all week. But sweet …” He looked her over from her freshly manicured red toenails peeking out of her sandals to her little board shorts and halter top, all chosen with him in mind today. Not that she wanted him to notice her as a woman.

  Okay, she wanted him to notice her as a woman.

  But mostly she just wanted to help him feel good. She wanted him to relax and enjoy himself.

  She wanted to see him smile, hear him laugh.

  “I don’t know about sweet,” he said, a new quality to his voice now, a husky, lower tone that brought to mind hot-summer-night sex.

  Setting a hand on his chest, she smiled. “I am very sweet.”

  He wrapped his fingers around her hand and brought it up to his mouth, kissing the inside of the wrist he’d inadvertently squeezed only a moment ago.

  Her breath caught at the feel of his warm lips on her skin.

  Eyes still on hers, he then kissed her palm and touched his tongue to the spot.

  Holy mother of God. She had to lock her knees. “Wh-what are you doing?”

  “Tasting you.” He spoke against her flesh. “You’re right. You are sweet, Lexi. So damn sweet.”

  She found herself staring at his mouth, and then somehow it was on hers, and they were kissing madly, fiercely, trying to crawl into each other’s skin. The sound of his cane clattering to the patio startled them apart.

  Breathing unsteadily, she stared at him, only slightly gratified to see he wasn’t breathing so lightly either. She rubbed up against his impressive erection. “Are you having a difference of opinion with your favorite body part again?”

  “Lexi,” he said, sounding tortured.

  “Right.” She nodded. “We’re not going there.”

  He didn’t say anything on the walk to the beach, and Lexi let him have his silence. As she’d hoped, he’d changed into his board shorts. They were sky-blue and rested low enough on his hips to reveal every inch of his incredible eight-pack stomach, and more than a hint of what lay beneath.

  Using his cane, he limped at her side from the condo building through the field of wild grass, then stopped, eyeing the strip of sand pensively, body tense.

  She’d called his PT; she knew that maneuvering through the sand would be a bitch, but that it’d be a great exercise for him. This time she waited for him to look at her before setting a hand on his arm.

  One corner of his mouth quirked, as if ruefully acknowledging that she’d at least learned to give him warning before touching him. “I’m not losing it,” he said. “I’m not going postal.”

  “Of course you’re not.”

  “I just want to be left alone.”

  “Pretend you’re alone. I’ll try to be quiet.”

  His mouth quirked again. “That would be an impossible feat.”

  “Ha.
Come on, Cord. Let’s see what you’re made of.” She was carrying both their body boards. She watched him struggle through the sand. Her throat tightened and her heart ached because God, it was hard, so damn hard, to watch him, to see the flash of pain pinch his features when he put his weight down wrong. But, as determined as he, she kept a smile on her face and matched her pace to his as they made their way to the water.

  5

  CORD STOOD at the water’s edge and watched Lexi corral her wild hair into a ponytail. Then she pulled off her halter top and shorts, leaving her in an itsy-bitsy teeny-tiny bright-red bikini that nearly had him swallowing his tongue.

  “Cord?”

  He realized she was smiling at him, the witch, clearly pleased with his reaction.

  “You coming?” she asked.

  They were alone on the beach. He moved closer, so that the water lapped over his feet, then met her gaze, which was pretty much eating him up from top to bottom. “Lexi,” he heard himself rumble warningly in a rough voice.

  Slowly she ran a finger over his pec. “I’m your friend,” she murmured. “But I’m not dead.”

  He stared at her as she used his own words against him, and hell if he didn’t end up smiling. She flashed him one in return, then pivoted, grabbed the two boards and strode into the water.

  He followed, eyes on her sweet ass as the water splashed up to her thighs and beyond. His life might be shit, but the view wasn’t so shabby. He eyed the waves. Barely swells today, maybe two feet. Which was good, considering even two feet could easily kick his butt.

  But hell if he was going to back down, not with Lexi already in the water, holding the boards. He dropped his cane and limped in, taking one of the boards from her.

  Lexi splashed in a little farther. Water droplets dotted her red bikini, darkening it in spots.

  When she turned back to check on his progress, he could see her nipples were hard. “Coming?”

  He’d like to be coming… He’d like her to be coming, too, screaming his name. He put his chest to the board and dove into the next wave to clear his head and to get his weight off his leg. He came up and shook the water out of his face, and felt himself smile.