The Hot Sergeant: Hargrave Brother Romance Series, #2

By Alexa Davis

War changes you. This a universal truth that George knows far too well. When he first enlisted, he expected to see death and destruction, but he didn't understand just how much it would haunt him. He came to realize just how nightmarish war could be when he returned from his first tour.

He awoke in the night, unable to understand where he was. He grabbed a knife and tried to take down the enemy. But it wasn't the enemy. It was Callie.

Horrified and ashamed, George broke things off with Callie. And while he was gone for another tour, neither of them moved on. 

Now, he is back in town, injured and starting his life over again. And it is his hope that Callie will be a part of it. But can they overcome their past and his demons to be together?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Alexa Davis
• Release date: Dec 16, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386693130

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Chapter One

George

As I slung my pack into my lap and looked around at the milling tourists and travelers around me, I was glad I hadn’t told my family I was finally coming home from Afghanistan after two tours.

It wasn’t that I wasn’t thrilled to see them – I missed them so bad it hurt. But my homecoming was never supposed to be like that. I didn’t want a party, and I sure as hell didn’t want their pity. I adjusted the duffle bag on my thighs and pushed myself forward, thrusting with both hands against the wheels of my rented wheelchair.

No, I thought to myself, it is definitely better that no one saw me this way. I wheeled myself toward the tall, glass doors that stood between me and the arid ninety degrees of June in Austin.

I waved to Sgt. Simmons, already in the arms of his pretty wife, Lisa, with a pair of matching blonde girls wrapped around his calves. It was a lot of tears to process, but I was happy for him. Lisa looked over her shoulder at me and her face registered every reason why the Hargrave middle child had no one greeting him at the airport.

I could see the pity, horror, and the sick realization that, but for a bit of luck, it could be her husband in a wheelchair instead of standing strong with one arm in a sling. I turned away as she grabbed her husband and kissed him hard. In that moment, I would’ve given anything to be back at Bagram Airbase, where I’d been stationed before a claymore off the road had torn up my platoon.

The leg I’d nearly lost wasn’t the worst I’d suffered, though. I’d lost my best friend and lieutenant in the first rig in the convoy. No one in the front transport had survived.

I shook myself and wheeled over to the customer service window to pay for the shuttle ride into my namesake, Georgetown, where my brother Tucker lived. Tuck had said I could bunk there anytime, but that had been months before. I only hoped he wasn’t living with someone who would be bothered by an unannounced houseguest with a gimpy leg.

I paid for the shuttle and refused to let the valet push my wheelchair, but followed him out to the curb to await the disabled access van. My shoulders and arms ached from my new mode of transportation, and it was new enough still that when I was forced to use the chair instead of the crutches, my lower visual perspective made my head swim. I backed the chair onto the ramp of the van and scowled as the driver, a pale, soft man named Dave, raised the ramp and locked my chair in place.

I sat quietly for the ride, looking out the window and refusing to respond to Dave’s small talk. He gave up after a couple of attempts and we made the trip in relative silence, the soft hum of country music weaving around us as Dave sang along. I wouldn’t admit it to him, but I thought he did a pretty good job harmonizing with George Strait, even if he slipped off the melody a few times.

At Tucker’s condo, Dave lowered me and unlocked the wheels. He clapped me on the shoulder and gently set the duffel bag back in my lap. I glanced up at him and Dave winked. He rolled up his sleeve to bare a long, pink slash of shiny scar that meandered from his wrist to elbow.

One way or another, nobody comes back whole, Sarg. Good luck. Glad you have somebody to stay with. I nodded and shook the driver’s proffered hand.

Thanks, man. I appreciate it. Dave tipped his trucker cap and walked away without offering to take me to the door, while I watched him go.

I pivoted in the wheelchair and looked at the stairs leading to the front doors of the gray stone building. Thankfully, I noticed a ramp to the left of the doors and pushed off with both hands on the wheels. My hands burned from the friction as I coaxed the chair up the ramp, which I gave a difficulty rating of who the hell thought this was a good idea? By the time I reached the vaguely disinterested doorman, I was ready to shove my hands in an ice bath up to my armpits. My shirt stuck to my chest, the gray darker in the depressions between my muscles.

The doorman blinked long and slow and sucked in his cheeks as he looked at me. With a huff, he turned his back toward the nuisance on his doorstep, while I contemplated the consequences for driving straight at the backs of his knees. I counted slowly and dug my cell out of my duffel bag. As I was punching a curt text to Tucker to get me in the door, I heard my name being called and glanced up to see Alistair James grinning at me like I’d just won tickets to the Super Bowl. He took the stairs two at a time while my face crimsoned and then he panted, holding up a finger to me while he caught his breath.

Goddamn, George, how long you been home, son? Alistair huffed. I was at the perfect level to watch his gut, born of years of dive bar beer drinking and a desk job, bounce and jiggle until I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep a straight face.

Uh, yeah, Al, I, well...I just flew in and was going to crash at Tuck’s. I was about to text him to untwist the doorman’s panties when you walked up. I scratched my head. Honestly, I guess I didn’t think this far ahead. I just wanted to get settled before my mom found out I was back.

Shit, son, are you kidding me? You better come in and get cleaned up then, because I don’t wanna be on the wrong end of your mom’s temper when she finds out the war hero has returned without the requisite party. Alistair emphasized the words war hero and practically stared holes into the doorman’s back. He must have gotten the hint, though, because he was all smiles and welcome as he held the double door open using a switch on the wall. Al rolled his eyes and led the way into the posh foyer of the condominium.

Should I remember that guy? I almost whispered as we waited for the elevator doors to part. Al looked back over his shoulder.

Well, yeah, that’s ‘Dickwad’ Drumfeld, the quarterback for Cooper High School. I bet he recognized you the second he saw you. Man, the number of times you creamed him back in the day.

I laughed out loud. Of course, I remembered. The Cooper Claws, worst high school football team in the state. Maybe ever. No wonder he was such a jerk. I figured it was true, that people never changed.

The elevator dinged its arrival, and I backed up to let potential passengers off before maneuvering myself into the creaking, shiny metal box. I wiped off the sweat that beaded on my lip and silently counted backwards from one hundred. Al was on the ninth floor, and I stopped counting at seventy-three, when the car bounced to a stop and the doors whooshed open.

My heart was still fluttering like a bird with a broken wing when we stopped in front of his door. I heard the lock give like the bolt action of my rifle. If I’d had my legs, they would’ve been wet noodles. Al didn’t seem to notice my borderline panic as he welcomed me inside. Once the door shut, the walls stopped bending in my periphery and my heart gradually resumed its regular beat.

I pulled myself out of the chair and slowly made my way to the sofa in the living room, using the wall and available pieces of furniture to hold me up. My left foot twisted to the side and dragged a little, but my right was getting stronger by the day, and though my knee was shaking by the time I sat down, I had made it over twenty feet without assistance, which was an improvement over the VA hospital in Kentucky, where I’d just spent the last two weeks recuperating stateside after a month in the Bagram field hospital.

You know, Tucker is just one floor up; why don’t I text him to come down, and you can surprise him? Alistair had his phone in his hand and a wicked grin split his face. I chuckled and met his grin with one of my own.

Well, that depends. If you’ve got the beer to calm him down afterwards, I’m all for it. I can’t wait to see his face. The fool would have known I was on my way home if he’d ever check his goddamn email. I wouldn’t be surprised if mom pretends to be a client when she calls, just so he answers. I accepted the beer Al held out to me, and he laughed out loud as he typed one handed on his phone.

Done and sent, Alistair reported. I can’t wait to see it, either. It should be something worth a little recorded footage. He wiggled his phone in his hand. And, don’t you worry. I’ll make sure I get something good and embarrassing for you to blackmail him with later.

I tipped back my beer and let the cold liquid flow down, cooling my parched throat. It had been a long flight, and even if my brothers didn’t know I was – yet – it was sure nice to be home.

Chapter Two

Callie

The sunlight pouring through the window had been my first clue that I was about to have a long, rough day.

Normally, I would’ve loved sleeping in on a Saturday, but not on a Saturday when the Austin chapter of the Humane Society was throwing an adoption fair of epic proportions, and especially not when I had promised Shaylen I’d be there extra early to bathe and groom animals to help them get adopted.

I had grabbed a sweatshirt and ran out the door while still looping my long hair into a messy bun and trying not to spill hot coffee on myself before I could even get to the pet and feed store I owned, Greener Pastures Animal Haven. By noon, I had bathed and, at least lightly, groomed eighteen dogs. My arms ached, and I scowled as I stretched to loosen joints cramping from hours on my feet of scrubbing and grooming dogs. Fortunately, some of those pound pups were better behaved than the pampered ones I dealt with on a regular basis.

Shaylen set a tall cup of Starbucks in front of my nose, which I noticed happily hinted at something frothy and delicious inside. I inhaled the sweet caramel and milk and reveled in the sting of the hot cup against the palms of my hands, as my friend scoffed at me.

You do know that it’s, like, ninety degrees outside, right? I sipped the scalding liquid carefully and grinned at her.

It could be a hundred and fifty out there; I would still be freezing my ass off in this air conditioning. If it was up to me, it would be almost ninety in here. I leaned down and scratched a sweet retriever behind the ears. I couldn’t ever get warm at work and was notorious for wearing sweaters even in the hottest weather. But better for me to wear a sweater than my furry charges be uncomfortable.

It’s over seventy degrees in here. I think you just need to find a miracle weight-gain pill. You’re so thin I would worry about you if I hadn’t known you since high school.

I pulled my sweater a little tighter and started putting my tools away without responding. I had always felt self-conscious about my too-skinny legs and ribs that stuck out too far. No matter how much I ate or worked out, I just never got any curves. The teasing in school from boys, who had just discovered tits and ass and thought there was nothing else to the world, had been merciless. Except for one.

I pushed the thought out of my head before his name could form or his face be conjured. It had been two years since I’d heard from him, and I had too much to do today to let his memory turn me into a puddle of self-pity, which it usually did.

I’d been quiet too long, and Shaylen knew that meant she’d hit a sore spot. She put her arms around me and apologized without speaking. The familiar smell of Irish Springs soap and expensive perfume hit my nose, and I buried my face in her shoulder. How pathetic was I, to be so gone on a man who didn’t even want me, that I could still remember his smell after years of being apart? I blinked back tears and tried to reassure Shaylen that I was all right, but she was staring at something behind me and gaping like a trout stranded on the dock. Just as I began to turn, she caught my eye and grabbed my arm.

Maybe now would be a good time for you to take a break. I’ll watch the floor for you. Andy and Karen have the registers covered. Just go hide in your office for a few minutes and enjoy your coffee. She swallowed hard, and I glanced back over my shoulder to see what had her so spooked.

My knees buckled when I saw him, and I felt Shaylen grab me under the elbow to keep me on my feet. I wanted to hate him the way I had sworn to everyone I did in the days after he left, but all I felt was the steady, dull ache of need that hadn’t dissipated one ounce in the two years we’d been apart. Seeing him sitting in a wheelchair, his muscled arms flexing under the tattoos that had spread from his shoulders to half sleeves while he’d been away, made my stomach clench in desire and anxiety. He was about a week and a half into a beard, and his hair was long enough to brush the collar of his shirt as he looked up at his older brother.

He hadn’t seen me, and I realized that immediate escape was prudent. Only a moment too late, I pivoted on my heel and started toward my office. As I spun around, George glanced my way. I had just enough time to see the color drain from his face before I bolted.

I swept through the kennel and into my sanctuary, letting the door slam shut behind me, immediately regretting it as the dogs panicked at the loud noise and began barking, which upset the cats, until the din even inside the office drowned out my pain and I knew I had to leave my hiding spot and calm them down. My face hot and red, I tried to slip out the door and directly to the kennels on the left, without being seen. I turned into the kennel just as I realized the worried barking had already morphed into excited yips and yelping of play.

I paused outside the door. I knew what I would see inside. Just like he had known I would have to go to him if he was in there with them. I drew a shaky breath and pushed the swinging door inward. His back was to me, and the brittle pieces of my heart were crushed under the weight of my grief at seeing the loose curls of his shaggy hair over the high back of a wheelchair. The noise from the dogs ceased almost instantly when I walked in, as all canine eyes and noses turned toward the box of biscuits in my hand. I watched George’s shoulders tighten before he slowly turned the chair to face me.

I didn’t know you were, uh, back in town. Heat crawled up my neck and chest to my cheeks.

Hey, Callie. You look good – a little over-worked, but good, anyway. Tuck didn’t tell me you worked here when he brought me in, but, um, I can come back later, if you’d like.

You are welcome to come back later. I’ll still be here, but I’m here from open to close most days. That’s what happens when you decide to go into business for yourself. His jaw dropped and I fought the smile that threatened to split into a grin.

Goddamn! Callie, that’s the best thing I’ve heard since I got back yesterday. Good for you.

What about you? Did you get hurt overseas? I mean, I don’t know what I am supposed to ask and what I’m supposed to pretend isn’t real. The only thing I was more afraid of than what I’m looking at right now was a long box draped with a flag.

George set the brakes on the wheelchair. He grabbed his jeans in his hands and lifted his legs one at a time, setting them down between the footrests. Pushing down on the arms of the chair, he stood up and wobbled. His face was a mask of concentration as he struggled to steady himself, and the tattoos on his arms shone with perspiration.

Once standing, he held his arms out and let them drop to his sides. The insides of my eyelids were lined with prickles and thorns, stinging when I blinked the sudden moisture away. He slowly sat back down and rubbed the ears of a cocker spaniel I’d groomed and kenneled while I waited for the play area to be set up out front under the adoption banner. I bit my lip and hugged myself against the cool of the kennel, and George laughed.

Still the coldest hands in the room, huh?

Probably. But, not the warmest heart, anymore. I scoffed.

Oh, honey, I don’t know about that. Looks like that heart of yours is still getting quite the workout. George looked around at the hopeful eyes and lolling tongues that surrounded us, grateful to be clean and on the receiving end of treats and affection – pure souls who shed their mistreatment and neglect without a backward glance. I envied them. I wasn’t that forgiving. I certainly wasn’t a pure soul.

So, why are you here, George? I thought you’d made it pretty clear that I wouldn’t be seeing your face again, if you could help it.

"Tucker brought me in because he was adopting a dog and thought I might want one, too. I came back here because the look on your face when you saw me made me feel lower than a snake’s asshole, and I wanted to apologize, for what it’s worth.

I never asked you to apologize for not loving me. We feel what, we feel, right?

I never apologized for not loving you because I never stopped loving you. But, here we are, and I was right to set you free. I’m busted, my left leg don’t work, and my right leg ain’t much better. I have more scars than skin, it seems, and I was less than twenty feet from coming home in that long box. I had nothing to offer you but pain before, and as you can see, my situation hasn’t exactly improved. George breathed deep and let it out in a long sigh.

Well, then, I guess you should get back out front and spend some time with the dogs. But don’t take one if you can’t make the commitment. It’s cruel to just return it if it takes a little work.

George looked down at his hands. They were callused, hardened, and rough from years of work, first on the ranch at Lake Austin, then building homes, and finally in the military. I felt guilty for hitting him so low. I knew him; I knew it wasn’t the work he’d been afraid of.

The work had been the best part, for him. Learning how to make me smile when I was angry with him, fixing up my ridiculous, old house together, helping me make it mine, even though I never invited him to live with me. No. Work had never been the problem. Watching his friends go home in boxes had been the problem. Knowing that the career in the military that he’d chosen was likely to be brief, with a sudden stop, that’s why he had run from me. I’d lost the battle to his damn patriotism.

Don’t suppose you have something big and scary on the outside, warm and cuddly on the inside, do you?

I laughed at him, a clear, bright explosion of joy that took both of us by surprise. I certainly hadn’t meant for him to know how good it was to see him.

Just like you, huh, G? I don’t have any tattooed cuddle bears for adoption today. But...I do have some at the shelter as part of a program I’m running. Maybe next week you could come by and, I don’t know...audition a couple, see if one fits. I wondered if he’d be mad once he found out that the program was for service dogs for vets like him. As long as I’d known him, he’d held himself apart from others, like he didn’t feel pain or get scared. But, before he left, I’d been there for the nightmares. I’d seen him wake up sweaty and screaming from what he’d seen, or done, maybe; he’d never told me which.

We stared at each other, neither of us knew how to end it. I looked into his hazel eyes and knew I was never going to stop loving him. What I hadn’t expected to see was the same love in his eyes that had kept me going through some of the hardest times of my life.

I smiled and schooled my face into as pleasant a blank expression as I could manage. He rolled through the door as I held it open. Tucker had finally come looking for him, so I waved and winked at him, making him chuckle.

George had no idea what was coming, I thought to myself. I wasn’t afraid of work, either. The only thing that scared me was the possibility of growing old without George knowing how I really felt.

It’s time to woman-up, little girl, I muttered under my breath as I handed out one last round of treats. A pretty beagle named Lucy, who had been my shadow all day, sat on my feet and kept the bigger dogs off me the whole time. Let’s go get you adopted, pretty lady. I reached down and scratched behind her ears. Let’s go find your gentle heart a forever home. And mine, too, I added silently as I attached the leash to her pink, shiny collar.

I took a deep breath and braved the happy throng of people gathered by the adoption tables. Shaylen was glowing as she rushed from application to application, and Tucker waved one in my direction with a grin. I gave him a thumbs up and walked my little shadow over to the fenced-in