Homecoming Hero. Renee Ryan
He opened his mouth, probably to protest, but she raised her hand to stop him from interrupting her. “No. Wait. Don’t say anything yet. I want to make a deal with you first.”
His eyes narrowed. “What sort of deal?”
“If you promise to listen to the Mulligans’ story without judgment, then I’ll promise to listen to your arguments with the same mind-set.”
He looked at her for an endless moment. As each second passed, frustration filled his gaze. But then he shook his head at her and said, “You’re not going to listen to another word I say unless I agree to this, are you?”
“Nope.”
“You are one hardheaded woman, Hailey O’Brien.” His tone held a hint of admiration.
“So I’ve been told, Captain Wolfson.”
A moment of solidarity passed between them. And something else. Something pleasant, but not altogether comfortable. “So you’ll come with me today?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Not if you want me to listen to the rest of your arguments.”
He smiled at her then, with the kind of stomach-twisting grin that turned his blue, blue eyes to a deep midnight. He no longer reminded her of Clay. In fact, the man was far too handsome for his own good. Hailey had to remind herself why he was here. He wanted to stop her from going to the Middle East.
“All right. You win this round, Hailey. For the next, let’s say, two hours.” He glanced at his watch. “I’m all yours.”
I’m all yours. Hailey’s heart kicked hard against her ribs. I’m. All. Yours.
Three simple words, spoken in such a matter-of-fact tone. But Hailey knew the battle was far from over.
Captain Wolfson had made a promise to her dying brother. He didn’t seem like a man who would relent easily.
Of course, what he didn’t know was that she’d made her own promise. To the Lord.
Chapter Two
Hailey stepped onto the front porch ahead of Captain Wolfson. Although she could feel his intense gaze on her, she managed to click the lock in place on the first try.
Gathering her composure, she turned to face him directly.
Their gazes locked, held. And held some more.
Her pulse did a little cha-cha before settling into a heavy, thick thump…thump…thump.
Something deep inside her, the part she’d ignored since Clay’s death, recognized this man as a kindred spirit. Was it solidarity from a mutual loss? Or something more disturbing?
Either way, it wasn’t supposed to be like this. She wasn’t supposed to be emotionally involved with a man after only a half-hour acquaintance.
Yet, here she stood, blinking at him without a word coming to mind. As the silence lengthened, the cold, wet air encircled them, creating an illusion that they were the only two people left in the world.
She wasn’t attracted to the man. Was she? No. He wasn’t her type. She preferred artistic intellectuals who wore wire-framed glasses. Not big, strong, elemental warriors.
“Where are you parked?” she asked, pleased at her even tone. If her mother was still alive she’d be proud of Hailey. After all, O’Brien women always kept control of a situation, no matter how unusual, unexpected or emotionally charged.
“I’m three blocks that way.” He angled his head to her left.
She lifted her eyebrows, fully aware that the city’s layout didn’t afford adequate parking. “You actually found an open spot on the street?”
“Yeah. Total cakewalk.” He gave her a wry grin. “If you consider three passes down eight different streets easy.”
Hailey heard a trace of humor underneath the frustration in his voice. He didn’t seem angry about the inconvenience of finding a parking space, only mildly annoyed. That said a lot about his character.
Her brother’s friend was a patient man, even when he was clearly exhausted.
She found herself intrigued by him all over again.
Hailey, no. Not your type. Remember why he sought you out today. “Captain Wolfson—”
“Ty.” One side of his mouth kicked up. “My name is Ty.”
Oh, why, why did he have to turn appealing now, when she was working so hard to put him in the role of opponent?
A breathy sigh slipped out of her before she could stop it. “Ty, I—”
“Or…you can call me Wolf.”
Wolf. Right. That’s what Clay had called him. She could see why, too. His eyes were just like a wolf’s. Stark, emotionless, guarded. Maybe even a little scary.
“Who’s afraid of the Big, Bad Wolf?”
He sighed, looking slightly disappointed in her. Clearly, he’d heard that one before.
Why had she said it, anyway? Maybe it was because his grin had made her feel like Little Red Riding Hood skipping unwittingly into the beast’s trap.
She’d been wrong in her earlier assessment of the man. He wasn’t elemental.
He was dangerous.
And when it came to men, Hailey O’Brien did not do dangerous. Ever.
It was important she remember that little factoid about herself. “All jokes aside, I think Wolf suits you best.”
He lifted a shoulder. “Call me whatever you like.”
“Well then, Wolf, do you want to ride with me?”
“No.” He looked over his shoulder in the direction he’d indicated earlier. “I have my own wheels.”
His answer was quick. A little too quick. “How can I be sure you’ll show?”
“Because I said I would.”
She recognized her mistake at once. Even without Clay’s e-mails to attest to his character, the rough honesty and deep code of ethics Wolf lived by were obvious in his direct gaze and straightforward manner.
“I’m sorry.” She broke eye contact, resisting an urge to dig her toe in the knothole at her foot. “I didn’t mean to insult you.”
“Apology accepted.”
Before he could speak again, she rattled off the address for Faith Community Church.
He nodded. “I know the one.”
Again, he surprised her. “You do?”
He didn’t reply at first, merely stared at her. A battle seemed to wage behind his eyes before he said, “Hailey, this isn’t my first trip to Savannah. I was at Fort Stewart six months before I was deployed to Iraq this last time.”
“But Clay’s e-mails said you two met in Iraq.”
“We did. We became friends—” He stopped, shut his mouth, swallowed hard and then started again. “We became friends when I got transferred to his platoon twelve months ago.”
She reached out to touch his arm but he shifted away and then started down the front steps ahead of her. Without turning around, he waited for her to join him.
Play it safe, use your head and never, never make a decision out of emotion. Those had been the rules the old Hailey had lived by before Clay died. The new Hailey was a full-grown, twenty-six-year-old woman who lived by a different set of standards. She took risks. Lots of them. Well, not yet. But she would soon. When she boarded a plane to Iraq. Or Afghanistan. Or wherever the mission board sent her.
Deciding