Chapter Two

Chris Brooker was staring out his kitchen window at the snowfall, waiting for the coffee to perk. He’d been up for most of the night with the blonde from the bar, and he was wiped out. He was just happy that today was Saturday, and he could fall back into bed after she left.

He heard a noise behind him now and he turned around. The blonde stood there fully clothed – thank God – and carrying her purse.

“Hi,” he said. “How you doing, Cara?”

“Good.” She looked around his tiny apartment, taking in its neatness. “Is that coffee?”

“Yeah.” He sighed internally as he realized that she’d be staying for a while longer. “You want some?”

“Please. Milk and sugar.”

She sat in the armchair and looked around again. “You’re very clean for a man who lives alone.”

He grinned at that. “Yeah, well. Years in the military will do that to you, I think.” He brought her the cup of coffee. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” Cara took it absently, still staring around. “You were in the military overseas, right?”

“I was.”

“Man, that’s so fucking hot…”

Chris felt his whole huge body tense up. It never ceased to amaze him that women found it sexy that he’d killed people in Afghanistan; it barely mattered to him that he’d had to do it. “You think so?”

“Damn right.” Her large brown eyes took him in now as he stood there in just his boxer shorts. “You soldiers have bodies that just won’t quit.”

“I wasn’t a soldier. I was a Ranger.” He heard the stiffness in his voice.

“What’s the difference?” she asked.

“Never mind. It’s not important.” He pushed down hard on his frustration, knowing that it was directed more at himself than at her. He’d gone to The Cave for a few beers the night before with Dallas, Dean and Jim, and he’d promised himself that he wouldn’t pick up some random chick and bring her home to fuck. But after three rounds, he’d just given up the internal battle, and started things up with the woman who now sat in his living room.

Chris turned from her now, poured out his own coffee. He ran his large hands through his dark blond hair and took a deep breath.

Cool it, man. It’s not her fault that she isn’t the woman you want to be sitting here with.

She came to mind now, as she so often did. Long silky blonde hair, soft blue eyes, a heart-shaped face. Curvy and luscious and warm. Kind and sweet, soft and lovely. Totally desirable and totally fucking off-limits. Frightened, hurting. Damaged.

Jenny.

Chris would give a lot for it to be Jenny here with him right now, sipping coffee and watching the snow. He’d do anything at all for it to have been her in his bed the night before, panting under him and moaning as she came again and again. He longed to hold her close, kiss her perfect lips, watch her shatter under him with pleasure.

But that was never going to happen. In almost six months of knowing her, he’d never even so much as touched her baby finger. He didn’t know exactly what had happened to her – he and the guys had seen enough assaulted women overseas to know that Jenny had almost definitely been raped – but he did know that she was scared to death of men. The fact that she let Chris anywhere near her at all was nothing short of a fucking miracle.

He thought back to two weeks ago, when Jenny had sat down right next to Dallas in that hospital waiting room, when she’d just reached out and taken his hand. The rest of them had stared in utter shock at her sweet gesture, totally amazed that she’d voluntarily made contact with a man. And even though he’d been shocked and upset about Liv, Dallas had had the generosity of spirit to know what it had meant for Jenny to reach out that way and he’d thanked her later. She’d given him a shy smile and then turned away; Jenny hadn’t touched any of the guys since.

Chris sighed and turned around to look at Cara again. She was gorgeous, no doubt about that. She was just his type, as a matter of fact, with a small waist and rounded ass and soft thighs. He had no major use for skinny women, preferring women with generous curves and breasts.

Women like Jenny.

Annoyed now, he shook himself. He forced a smile at Cara, and she responded. She finished her coffee and then to his immense relief, she stood up.

“Well, I’d better go,” she said. “I’m meeting some girlfriends for a late breakfast.”

“OK, hon,” Chris said. “It was good to meet you.”

She laughed. “Oh, you too… really good. Maybe we can do it again sometime, if we run into each other again at the bar.”

“Sure,” he said automatically, though he had no intention of ever bringing her home again. Chris wasn’t into repeat performances. If he couldn't have Jenny as his steady girlfriend, then he didn't want anything regular with anyone at all.

He helped Cara put on her coat and walked her to the door. He opened it, and started when he saw Jenny standing there, her hand raised to knock, looking like the most beautiful, glowing thing he’d ever laid eyes on.

Like a troubled angel freshly fallen from the snowy heavens, one with her delicate wings burned by the fires of hell.

Jenny, baby – what happened to you? I don’t think I’ll ever know.