Hometown Hero: Humble, Honorable and Horny, Book 2: Man of Action, #2

By Maggie C. Brynnon

Soldier. Mercurial. Restless. Married.

Dalton still suffers through most nights with nightmares and flashbacks from the war. After Liv invites a new salesman into her life, and he begins to get the wrong ideas about her, the dark side of Dalton bubbles out all over again.

Businesswoman. Vulnerable. Confused. Married.

After marrying the man of her dreams, Liv assumed that her life was going to be smooth sailing from there on out - a life of happiness all the time and days filled with nothing but love.

She assumed wrong!

After a few weeks of spending all day, every day, in Dalton’s house way back in the woods, she figures out that maybe country living is not for her.

Can their marriage last? Will her new husband get help for his PTSD or is he too bullheaded to admit that he can’t do it alone?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Maggie C. Brynnon
• Release date: May 2, 2016
• ISBN: 9781533709769

Book preview

Chapter 1

OLIVE RAISED HER LEFT hand and examined it in the mirror of her bathroom. A gold band on her bronzed ring finger shone dully in the florescent light. Even now she smiled as she looked at the ring, a smile of pure happiness.

I can’t believe you’re married, Olive Reynolds... no... She shook her head and let out a giggle. I'm not Olive Reynolds anymore... I'm Olive Graham now.

She had gotten married to Lieutenant Dalton Graham two days earlier, but she still couldn’t believe it. The ceremony hadn’t been anything large, just herself, Dalton, a judge to marry them, and Turbo, of course, Dalton’s dog that he had trained and fought beside in Afghanistan.

After he had married them the judge said something that she would never forget as long as she lived. He looked them over and smiled a knowing smile. I’ve married a lot of people in my time. He had run a hand through his snow-white hair as if to emphasize the fact. But I’ve never seen a couple that was as in love as you two are. If I was to have to bet on which marriage would last... out of all of them I have performed... I would pick you two. There is something about the way you two look at each other that gladdens the heart. Never lose that and you’ll know happiness the rest of your lives.

She smiled at herself in the mirror, shaking her head as her ebony tresses danced on her shoulders. The judge’s words had given her hope that she wasn’t just out of her mind by marrying the first man who had been nice to her in years. Her wedding ring flashed again on her ring finger drawing her attention.

I do love him, she said with a smile as she touched the ring again just to make sure it was real.

Are you coming to bed Olive, or are you camping out in there for the weekend? The voice was that of Dalton, her new husband, and it came from the bedroom of the small apartment that she lived in above the store that her Grandmother had willed to her. She liked the store well enough, but it was a little dull after the hustle and bustle of the city. Not that she wanted to move back to Chicago, but some nights she lay awake in the quiet and wondered how different her life would have been if she never left there.

I’m coming. Just brushing my teeth, she called back.

She quickly brushed her teeth and put away her tooth brush. As she stepped out of the bathroom, her eyes studied the room she called the bedroom, even if it was the only other room in the apartment besides the bathroom, with another little side room that she used as a storage closet.

The room consisted of little more than a small sofa with a coffee table in front of it and a wardrobe against the back wall. A small flat screen television sat on the coffee table. A dresser with a big oval mirror on top stood against the left wall. The dresser was more of a desk and she used it like one. The swivel chair in front of it was proof enough of that. Opposite the dresser was the queen bed that she now shared with her new husband.

The only decor on the walls was a crucifix on the wall beside the window that overlooked the street. It looked like gold, but she was almost sure it wasn’t. Whether it was or not, the thing was huge. Three feet tall, at least, and half as wide - it looked like it weighed a ton. Jesus had a perpetual look of sadness and understanding on his face that made her feel a bit sad. The look on his face spoke of emotions much deeper than any human had ever felt. Whoever had made the crucifix had been an exceptional artist with an eye for detail. She had examined it closely and found that she could make out each and every wound on the small Jesus’ body. Even the spear-wound on his side.

The only other piece of art on the wall was a huge picture on the wall opposite the crucifix. It was much taller than her. She thought that it might top out at more than six and a half feet tall and it was wider than she would reach with her arms outstretched. In the painting a woman in a white dress lay on her side in a grassy field with her right hand propping her up. Her left arm was outstretched toward an old gray house in the distance. Dark clouds built in the sky behind the house with the promise of storms to come.

She was sure that the painting had some deep meaning about going home or finding yourself, but to Olive, there was a deep sadness to it. To her the house spoke of a death, either for the woman or someone she knew. She hadn’t been sure that she was going to keep it at first, but then she had found her Grandmother’s safe behind it. That hadn’t been what had made her keep the painting though. Something about the sadness of it, the finality and frailty of human life grew on her and she had decided to keep it.

Dalton motioned for her to sit down on the bed beside him. His shoulder length hair was black as night. Stubble covered his face because he had started to grow a beard. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that yet. He was tall, but not overly so, white, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. His chest was only covered with hair on the right side. The left side was a patchwork of scars that he had received in the war. His blue eyes were pools of arctic ice