Finn Page 2

  “That’s not fair! I really do want to keep updated on your life.”

  “You could have called.”

  “Fine! I need your advice. You’re the only one I trust with this. Come with me.” She throws away the trash, then reaches for my hand.

  I allow her to lead me across the grass to the outfield where the dogs are playing. We stop at the edge, and she links her arm through mine.

  “Aren’t they awesome?” she says softly.

  “The dogs?”

  “Yes.”

  “I guess.” I take a closer look and notice for the first time, they’re all wearing the same bandana around their necks and their owners are in identical shirts.

  “I want one,” she claims.

  “So, get one.”

  “I didn’t phrase that correctly. I want to get one for Robbie. These are K9 for Warrior dogs.”

  Immediately, I stiffen, knowing a little about the program. Robbie’s previous PTSD fills my mind. She feels me tense and turns to face me.

  “Is Robbie okay?” I ask, swallowing the fear that his condition has returned.

  “Oh, gosh, yes. His nightmares are practically gone. Since your trip last year to visit the graves of the guys who died, he’s been one-hundred percent fine. Sometimes, his leg still stiffens, but he’s got that under control, too.”

  “I guess I’m confused. Why a Warrior dog?”

  “I’m not sure I’ll even qualify. I’m looking into the application process now, but these are mostly rescue dogs. The program is new to Nashville. I’ve been researching, and I think Robbie deserves a Warrior dog.”

  There’s so much love and respect in the statement with only her tone. I may have been confused, but I’m not surprised. Her love is so deep for my friend, and she wants my approval. She knows that I’m the only one who can relate to our accident, and she trusts me to tell her if this is a good idea.

  Another reason he’s a lucky fucker.

  “I think it’s a terrific idea.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I spot a red Frisbee flying straight at Ember’s head. On instinct, I yank her to me and twist so it hits my back. A dog comes barreling toward us but stops before pouncing and lies down at my feet.

  Ember steps away and starts to crouch, but I stop her, cautious of its reaction.

  “Oh my gosh! I am so sorry!” A woman runs up, apologizing profusely.

  The second she stops in front of us, my heart skips a beat. She continues to apologize in a winded rasp, and I find myself searching for my own breath.

  My eyes rake up and down her quickly, taking her in. Wisps of light brown hair fly loose from her ponytail and frame her face with curls. She’s wearing cut-off shorts that showcase her long legs and a pink K9 t-shirt with the picture of a dog on the front. When my eyes find hers, I literally have to slap my chest to force my lungs to inhale.

  Her eyes are magnetic; not quite green, not quite blue, and not quite brown, but a combination of the three. They are the most unique blend of hazel I’ve ever seen. She meets my gaze for a quick second then leans down to the dog, petting its head.

  I can’t stop staring, not comprehending what she’s saying until Ember pinches my arm.

  “What?” I shake my head, trying to clear the fog.

  “She was saying the dog took a silent command from you.”

  “What?” I repeat stupidly and move my eyes between the two women.

  “I hate to be intrusive, but are you military?” The stranger’s feathery voice floats through the air.

  “Yes.” I nod, not able to find more words.

  “He knew. That’s why he’s at your feet. He felt it.”

  “That’s incredible,” Ember gushes.

  “Your husband has an air about him.”

  “Oh, gosh! This isn’t my husband!” Ember giggles. “But, you’re right. My husband does have an air about him. I’m Ember, and this is Finn.”

  Something flares across this incredibly beautiful woman’s face, but she bites her lip and goes back to focusing on Ember.

  “I’m Presley Chambers. Nice to meet you.” My heart hammers as her cheeks turn a light shade of pink. She steals one more look at me and gives a shy smile. I stand mute as they talk a few more minutes, Ember explaining the reason we’re here.

  With each word Presley speaks, my pulse quickens. Beads of sweat roll down my back as I try to conceal my reaction.

  “I’ll help you adopt in any way I can. I’m only a volunteer, but the trainer would be a good person to talk to. Since it’s a new program, we’re currently finding our footing. Just leave me a message at the office, or come back next Tuesday. We’ll be here getting our exercise.” She reaches for Ember’s hand.

  “Absolutely.”

  Ember nudges me when it’s my turn to shake Presley’s hand. The second our skin touches, there’s a small tremble from her. She gives me a blinding smile that sends my heart racing again.

  Jesus, what’s wrong with me?

  “Nice to meet you,” I force out, regretting the second her hand leaves mine.

  “Like I said, Blade is my assigned dog until he’s placed, and we’ll be here next Tuesday. If you’re still interested.” Presley steps back, and the dog instantly stands, nudging her knee. Then he strains to lick Ember’s outreached palm.

  There’s a small whimper, and it’s directed at me. Ember places my palm on his head, and he leans into my touch. Both women giggle, and even Presley’s giggle sends an electric heat up my spine.

  She and the dog walk away, and I steal a quick glance at her swaying ass.

  “What do you think?” Ember links her arm through mine again.

  “I think you may have found a dog.”

  “Maybe.” She guides us back to the parking lot. “But I think maybe we both found something today.”

  Chapter 2

  Finn

  “What’s on the agenda tonight?” Tripp asks me from the couch, flipping through the channels.

  “Dinner with Robbie and Ember. Thought you were coming.”

  “I meant after. We hitting a bar?”

  “What’d you have in mind?”

  “Bar, booze, maybe a hottie or two.”

  “I’m in for two of the three. Let’s play some pool.”

  “Man, what’s your deal? Did you take a celibacy vow I don’t know about?”

  “Nope.” I shove my wallet and phone in my pocket, feeling his questioning glare.

  Tripp is a part of my group of friends who have been close since grade school. All together, there are six of us. In the last two years, things have changed.

  Two of them are married, and one is engaged.

  Tripp, Max, and I are still single. We’re also twenty-eight years old.

  Max is still an active Marine.

  Tripp and I are roommates.

  “You okay?” Tripp squints an eye at me, getting up.

  “Yes, but picking up a cheap thrill at a bar isn’t my style anymore. I’d like to get more than a blow job with a clingy bitch.” My mind replays the nasty scene last month that helped solidify my decision that I’ve outgrown bar hook-ups. The sex was fine until the girl mentioned brunch the next day with her friends.

  The alcohol-induced sexual haze lifted, and I stopped mid-thrust. Even in the dimly lit room I could see her eyes glazing over, so I forced myself to finish her off then reached for my phone and punched in my emergency code. She was too far gone to notice until the shrill ring sounded through the room. I cussed out loud and pretended to be irritated with the interruption. I answered in my best angry tone and listened to the prerecorded message, then got off the bed, dressing quickly. I almost felt guilty when she became concerned about my ‘emergency’ at work.

  Earlier in the evening, I explained with little detail that I worked in a form of law enforcement. She assumed I was a cop, and I let her. Dickhead move, but it wasn’t like I lied to her; I just didn’t correct her inac
curate assumption. I was out the door in less than three minutes with an apology and a personal vow… that was the last time.

  Tripp is staring at me intently as I shake off the memory. He surprises the shit out of me when he states, “I agree.”

  “You do?”

  “Yeah, man, loose pussy is getting old to me, too.”

  My hand braces on the wall, not believing my ‘committed to non-commitments’ friend is agreeing with me.

  “Ten seconds ago, you were talking about hooking up. Now, you’ve changed your tune?”

  “I’m not sure what’s happening either. But, I can promise you it’s not the ‘disease’.” He uses the term we labeled the guys who fell in love hard and fast.

  We drive to Robbie and Ember’s, discussing his latest project at work and the intern he’s being assigned to next week.

  It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him about meeting Ember on Tuesday, but I promised to keep my mouth shut about the search for a dog.

  When we pull up to Robbie’s house, I groan at the sight of Ember’s cousin, Cruz, waving his hands at us wildly.

  We’re barely stopped when he tugs the truck door open and starts rambling about nonsense. His partner, Alex, walks up and puts his hand over his mouth long enough for us to get out and make it to the top stair.

  Somewhere, I understood what he was saying… Harley…buying one.

  “Cruz,” I turn and lay a hand on his shoulder, “you want a Harley, go talk to the sales manager and order one. Each of us has already picked out our model. They’ll be delivered soon.”

  He relaxes and smiles back at Alex before sliding past me into the house.

  Ember’s in the dining room, looking very much like a glowing wife. She’s setting the table and flashes her usual bright smile. Her Aunt Chloe comes out of the kitchen and waves at us in greeting. Robbie gives us a one-handed gesture then jerks his head, letting us know to come out to the back porch.

  Ember’s dad, Thad, is sitting in a lounger, drinking a beer. I’m not surprised to see Ember’s whole family here. She had a terrible childhood, which even resulted in Thad doing jail time for assault on a minor. She never had the security of a traditional family. So now, she uses every excuse she can to get them together. And Robbie will do anything in his power to make her happy, so he agrees.

  We get our own beer and sit down. Robbie works the grill quietly, and my instincts kick in. Something is not right.

  “Robbie, you want to let Thad take the steaks a minute and come look at a problem on my truck?” I make a move to get up, knowing he’ll catch my hint.

  “Fuck no, you’re not fooling me. I’d like to know what’s on Robbie’s mind, too.” Thad pushes, reading his mood.

  Robbie sighs, his shoulders slumping. I’ve seen this look before. My gut twists, and I grab my phone, scrolling through, and see two missed calls from Max. I automatically know what’s on Robbie’s mind.

  “Do you remember Simon Chambers? He was in infantry with us and lived on base when we did.”

  I nod, picturing his goofy grin and remembering the classless jokes this guy would tell endlessly— some funny, some vulgar, some downright juvenile. But, he helped keep the spirits up. From what I remember, he was also a practical joker.

  “He’s dead. Max got word today. He was killed in action.”

  I hang my head, mind racing. “Son of a bitch.”

  “Motherfucker,” Tripp hisses.

  “I’ve got this, son,” Thad takes the tongs and hands Robbie another beer. “Have a seat.”

  “Tell me.” I rub my temples.

  “Remember he was from around here? The service is scheduled in a week, and his family is having it in East Nashville. I’m thinking of going. Max is coming home.”

  “I’m in.” I don’t hesitate. “Didn’t he have a kid, too?”

  “Yeah, a daughter I think.”

  “We’re all in,” Thad says, shaking Robbie’s shoulder gently in support.

  “Hell yeah.” Tripp takes a long tug of his beer then looks straight at me. “You guys okay?” he asks with the same concern of all our family and friends when a serviceman is killed.

  There’s no stopping the images that flood my mind of the day of our accident—the dead bodies, the smoke, the burning flesh all around. I fight the sting in my gut, remembering the urgency to find Robbie and fearing he was dead.

  “Yeah.” I run a hand over my face. “It just fucking sucks.”

  “You want to talk about it?” Thad eyes me wearily.

  “After dinner,” Robbie says. “Ember’s been looking forward to this for almost a week. I won’t ruin her night.”

  We all agree, because Ember is the girl you agree to anything for.

  An hour later, after dinner, Robbie and I replay our time with Simon and the memories we have. Ember makes me sit next to her and Robbie on the sofa, continuously squeezing my hand. Somehow, we start discussing the roadside bomb and the friends we lost.

  Thad sucks down his drink and focuses on me. “I get it now. He’s Hero.”

  “Shit,” I mutter under my breath. I’m not a hero.

  “Cruz, can you take my shift at the shop? I’m going to the funeral,” Ember asks.

  “Of course.” He narrows his eyes in irritation. “Anytime, you know this.”

  “Baby, you don’t need to,” Robbie pulls her into his lap and talks into her ear. She folds into him, like usual, and laces their hands together.

  “I’m with you. This family needs to know how much we respect them. Tell Max he’s welcome to stay here. As a matter of fact, anyone who wants can stay here. We need each other.”

  Her implication is clear. She wants us here together.

  “Little Star,” Cruz reaches over from the floor and grips her calf, “you take care of these boys and I’ll have the shop covered.”

  He gets up to clear the coffee table of bottles, and Alex kisses her head. She gives a small smile, and Robbie cradles her as close as possible.

  I sink into the couch and, for once, envy my friend. There’s no doubt the death of Simon is on his mind. We’re replaying the same images in our head. But Ember will be by his side to help ease the pain and sense of loss. He’ll fall asleep with her in his arms, beating back the demons. I’ll go to bed and think about another brother lost, alone.

  The parking lot is overflowing with cars, and a policeman guides our SUV to the back. We step out, one by one, in our Dress Blues. Max first, Robbie, then me. Ember, Tripp, and Thad give us each an encouraging look then go to the front to join the line entering the church.

  The three of us walk to the area where the hearse holds the casket, a few fellow Marines and civilians ready to take it inside. We stand in salute as it’s moved and stay back, waiting. Once everyone, including the family, is inside, we take our place on the side of the pews, choosing to stand in respect.

  I never see the family, but move my eyes once to see Ember, Thad, and Tripp. Seated next to them are Robbie’s parents, Jenna and James.

  Ember is bawling silently, comforted by her father, her tender heart no doubt breaking for the family.

  We stand for the whole ceremony, listening to the sermon and knowing one of our own has gone down. I force my mind to stay in the present and silently thank God for Robbie’s and my survival.

  There’s a rustle in the front pew, and I tilt slightly to see a woman and man holding hands get up and walk to the front of the church. The woman stops to run her hands over the head of the casket, then she follows the man up the few steps, and they both take seats. He wheels a keyboard in front of his body, while she reaches for a violin.

  The minute she straightens, my whole body goes on alert. It’s Presley. She looks different with her hair falling freely in soft waves and dressed in a simple black suit. Her face is pale and gaunt, those incredible hazel eyes now rimmed in red. I follow her focus and see a little girl in the front row holding an older man. She reaches out he
r small hand to Presley, who in turn blows her a kiss.

  The man on the keyboard clears his throat and leans into a microphone, his voice breaking my trance.

  “We want to thank you all for being here today for Simon. He’d be honored at the love and devotion in this room right now.” He takes a deep breath and looks at Presley. She lays a hand on his, giving him support, urging him to go on.

  “My name is Johnny, and Simon was my older brother. There was always an understanding that if anything happened to any of us… Simon… my sister, Presley… or myself, we’d do this. Presley and I have been working on something that means a lot to our family.” He focuses on the casket and hits his chest over his heart. “Brother, we’ll miss you like no other. You were the best.”

  My heart lurches in my throat, and I fight the impulse to look at Robbie. His words hit hard.

  There’s a collective gasp in the room when Johnny starts the chords to See you Again, by Wiz Khalifia. No words, only the sound of music flows through the church. When Presley starts playing her violin, my heartbeat doubles, and I suck in a deep breath. She’s incredible. Her focus is now completely on her instrument, not looking at anyone, but squeezing her eyes and pouring herself into the music. It’s the most serene and gripping thing I’ve ever seen. Her cheek leans in to rest on the polished wood, and a single tear strays from her eye. My thumb twitches and rubs my palm, aching to brush that tear and the pain away.

  The pallbearers lift the casket and start the process of taking Simon to the graveside. The whole time, Johnny and Presley play, giving a tribute to their brother. When the last chords are done, both walk to their family and follow the body.

  The little girl from earlier jumps into Presley’s arms and buries her face into her neck. This is obviously Simon’s daughter; she’s a spitting image. The way Presley holds her close then grabs the older man from earlier tells me this is their Dad. He pulls her close, tucking her and the child under his arm, and ushers them out.

  We follow to the gravesite, and I have to remind myself…Focus. Direct. Respect.

  Once the preacher gives his last prayers and steps back for the family to approach the casket, what I witness next almost brings me to the ground.