She straightened up proudly. “Well, of course, honey—I’m happy to help if I can.”

  “I was going through some of my dad’s old papers, and I found a stack of letters he’d gotten back in the nineties. It looked…well, it looked like they’d been sent by his brother.”

  Mrs. Winchester nodded. “That makes sense. I believe the admiral was stationed out in the Middle East back then.”

  My pulse kicked up. “So Admiral Anderson was my dad’s brother.”

  “Why, of course he was.” Mrs. Winchester looked surprised that I was even asking. “Didn’t you know that?”

  “Ma’am, I didn’t even know my dad had a brother until I found those letters.”

  Her eyes went wide. “Oh…oh my. I knew there had been a falling out back…hmm, I suppose it would have been when you and your brothers were just babies. But I always thought they must have patched it up eventually. Do you mean to say your father never mentioned his brother?”

  “No, ma’am. Not to any of us.”

  She tsked, shaking her head. “Well, isn’t that just the saddest thing I ever heard. And they used to be so close, too! I’d say Peter was just about the proudest big brother I’ve ever seen. And little Ray just adored him, followed him like a shadow. I think I might have an old picture of them tucked away somewhere. Would you like me to see if I can find it?”

  “Th-that would be great,” I managed to say, “if it wouldn’t be too much trouble.” It would be nice to have another little piece of Dad—and of the uncle I’d never known I had. Even if I never found out the full story of what happened there, it would still be something to hold on to. Maybe even something to make me feel I understood my dad a little better.

  “No trouble at all,” Mrs. Winchester insisted.

  Mandy strolled out of the center bay, wiping her hands on a rag. Her curls rioted around her head, and she had smudges of grease on her beautiful face.

  “Hello, Mrs. Winchester.” Mandy stopped beside me, her head barely reaching my shoulder. Her lips twitched as she eyed the plate of sweets. “Thank you for bringing brownies. I can’t wait to dig in.”

  “You’re welcome, dear.” Mrs. Winchester puffed up and smiled wide. “I just wanted Chance to know how much I appreciate his honesty and hard work.”

  “Brownies are the perfect way to show it.” Mandy motioned to the garage behind us. “I hate to be rude, but I need Chance to help me.”

  “Oh, of course.” Mrs. Winchester patted me on my arm. “I’ll be by in a few days to pick up the plate—and that photo, too, if I can dig it up.”

  “Sounds good. Thanks again.” I itched to snatch another brownie, but I resisted. We only had another hour left before we officially closed, and I had a whole meal planned for dinner—then I’d have Mandy for dessert.

  “What was that she was saying about a picture?” she asked as I followed her back inside. I told her about the letters we’d found and the information I’d uncovered so far. She was a great audience, eyes going wide at all the surprise twists.

  She opened her mouth to say something, but a heavy bass beat cut Mandy off mid-thought. She hurried to the bay door with me at her heels, just in time to catch a souped-up Honda Civic with the windows down, bombing down Main Street with the radio turned up.

  “Damn kids,” Mandy said, but she was smiling.

  It made me think of something else that had been playing on my mind lately. “Feels like just yesterday, that’d have been me. Now, I’ve got Mrs. Winchester baking me brownies.”

  “That surprises you?” Mandy cocked a brow.

  “Her baking doesn’t surprise me. But baking for me?”

  “It’s a cycle,” Mandy said. “You’re a cute little baby, then you’re ‘damn kids.’ Then you grow up, and you either find your place or you don’t. But it looks like you’re doing it.”

  “I guess maybe I am.” I grinned, surprised. I really was. How had that happened? I hadn’t done much, just what came naturally, but sometime between me landing on my father’s doorstep and this moment, Springwell society had opened its arms. Not all the way, but the process had started—waves and hellos, less gossip, more baked goods. They’d stopped seeing the angry kid who got into fights. Instead, they made space for the man who had served honorably in the military—just like my uncle before me, apparently. Some folks might never forgive me all the way—Mrs. Lewis sprang to mind—but I could have a life here, if I wanted to stay. I could build that life Mandy had hinted at, full of kids and tire swings and new memories to treasure.

  I wanted her dream too. It felt like home. I’d needed distance to see that and time to grow up, but now I was ready. I could dream her dream.

  I glanced over at Mandy, bent over a truck. She was humming as she worked, bobbing her head to the beat. She’d been right, I thought, to let me go twelve years ago. I wasn’t ready back then to be the man she needed. I’d been too restless, too angry. She deserved more. I could give her that now, and I would. I’d give her everything.

  The shower’s hot water thundered against my back. I drove my fingers into Mandy’s wet hair and wound the locks tight around my hands.

  She moaned and I cursed at the vibrations dancing along my dick buried deep in her mouth. On her knees in front of me, her hazel eyes lifted to mine, and they burned so hot, I grit my teeth to push back the tingling sensation building way too fast.

  “I want to come inside you,” I ground out, pulling her hair.

  “Umm-umm,” she murmured around me, grabbing the backs of my thighs and flattening her tongue along the underside of my dick.

  “Christ,” I cursed, driving my feet into the ceramic tub to keep from toppling over. “Suck me hard.”

  Her cheeks indented and she pulled on me to the point of pain.

  Moaning, I threw my head back. “Again.”

  Her lips stroked up the full length of me and her tongue encircled my head. Just shy of freeing me completely, she plunged down my entire cock, then sucked hard as she scraped her teeth lightly on the way back up.

  The tingling building in my balls intensified. “Enough.” Gripping her hair even tighter, I stopped her.

  A loud pop echoed in the narrow shower space.

  I clenched my fists to keep from coming. “Just for that…” I snatched a condom off the soap dish and ripped the foil open, “you only get to come once instead of twice.”

  The saucy grin she threw me let me know I had to work on my threats. Whatever. I’d think of a better punishment later. Lifting her up, I pinned her against the back wall, out of the water’s reach. Her legs wrapped around my waist and in one swift motion, I drove inside her.

  She cried out and threw her head back, hitting the tile. “Chance.”

  Adjusting her position, I grabbed her hips and pulled out to the tip, then drove back in. The tingling sensation continued to build in my balls, and I thrust into her again and again, setting up an almost violent rhythm.

  “More,” she moaned, clawing into my shoulders as she held on.

  Her breasts bounced with every lunge, her nipples hypnotizing me with their sway. The sight was so erotic I had to stop staring in a bid to hold off the orgasm barreling through me.

  “Touch yourself,” I commanded, needing her to climax with me.

  Releasing my shoulder, she inched her hand between us, and played with her clit.

  “Damn, that’s sexy.” My pace increased.

  Hot, tight walls gripped me to the point of strangling just as she cried out.

  Once, twice, I rammed home, then held her tight against me as my orgasm ripped through me.

  I wasn’t sure how long we slumped there, just breathing, but I eventually realized I was crushing her against the tile. Moving back, I pulled out as she dropped her legs to stand.

  She grabbed onto the ceramic and grinned, her smile so satisfied I wanted to beat my chest caveman style.

  “Take as long as you’d like to finish up.” I kissed her quickly, then swished past the shower curtain and got rid of the condom. “I’ll start dinner.”

  After throwing on a T-shirt and athletic shorts, I padded to the kitchen in bare feet. I snagged a carrot out of the bag and chomped on it as I pulled together the items I needed. On the counter by the microwave, Mandy’s phone buzzed, and the screen woke up to display an incoming text.

  I knew I shouldn’t look, but of course, curiosity overruled my decency. I looked.

  Weasel: You still owe the rest of your payment. We’ll discuss it tomorrow.

  I snapped the carrot in half to keep from destroying her phone. The text shortcut offered me the choice between Reply, Delete, or open the full messaging app. My finger bounced between the options, but my rage made me stab the Delete button.

  The water shut off in the bathroom, and I hustled to move the bag of potatoes to the cutting board. Getting into a rhythm, I chopped through the pile and tossed them into a pot of water.

  “Wow. Do you hate potatoes or something?”

  I jerked my head up and found Mandy in the doorway in one of my T-shirts. “Huh?”

  She pointed. “You’re hatcheting and stabbing them.”

  Probably because I kept picturing Walter’s face and the new, stupid plan that wouldn’t leave me alone. “I was thinking,” I said, before my conscience could stop me. I washed my hands and moved the pot to the stove. “You’ve been working so hard lately; you’ve earned a day off.”

  Mandy blinked and moved next to me. “I have Sundays off.”

  “Yeah, but when was the last time you had a day off during the week?” I grabbed the package of boneless chicken breasts and worked on slicing off the fat. “I can handle the workload on my own tomorrow. You can stay home and balance those books you’ve been complaining you have no time to do. Or even go out with Pepper.” I didn’t give a damn as long as she didn’t show up at the garage.

  My conscience pricked, and I hesitated. I shouldn’t be talking to Walter without telling her first. She’d demanded my promise, and I’d given it freely. Still, if she knew what I was planning, she might say no. Or worse, she might insist on coming along. Just this once, for her safety⁠—

  Mandy’s arms wrapped around my waist. She snuggled against my back and pressed a kiss to my shoulder. “You’re so sweet.”

  Not really. Guilt wormed inside me.

  “I would love to catch up on ordering supplies too.” She kissed my spine. “And Pepper’s been hounding me for a mani-pedi day.”

  Whatever that was. “Then it’s settled.” I positioned the chicken inside a glass oven dish and sprinkled some seasonings on top before adding one more layer of trickery to round out my lie. “After dinner, I’ll drive you home. I insist you sleep in.” That way she wouldn’t inadvertently stumble onto me confronting Walter if she went down Main Street on her way back to her house. “You shouldn’t be bothered by my alarm.”

  “If you’re sure,” she said, still holding me tight.

  I frowned. I’d never been less sure of anything in my life. But then an image of Walter leering as he dominated her against the wall flashed through my mind. “Absolutely.”

  That jackass needed to learn that Mandy had someone in her corner. I would do everything I could not to provoke a fight, but I wouldn’t back down from one if it came to that.

  12

  MANDY

  Ijabbed the mouse beside my laptop and blew out a breath. Glaring at the screen, I gulped a mouthful of coffee, but the caffeine hit did nothing to scrub the red from my bank accounts.

  Nothing moved inside the house, and I lifted my gaze from the screen. Deliberating between fixing something hearty for breakfast or lazily grabbing cereal gave me a mental break from the accounts. Pepper had worked the late shift at Lunar Brewery last night, so she wouldn’t be stirring for hours yet.

  Turning back to the screen, I slumped in my chair. If something didn’t change soon, I’d have to sell the garage. The money I’d make off the sale probably wouldn’t be enough to pay off the loan shark, but it would get me closer.

  I could sell the house too. My stomach lurched at the insidious idea, but I couldn’t reject it. It wouldn’t help me with the gambling debt directly, but I’d be able to pay the bank mortgage off, which would at least take that weight off my shoulders. Pepper and I could move into an apartment. I could beg the garage’s new owner to let me continue working there. But where would that leave Chance? Would he stay on as a mechanic, too? Without his job, would he still stay in Springwell?

  Bing! My eyes darted to the lower corner of the screen, and I spied an email notification—a message from my distributor. Michelin was running a sale on a new line of mud tires.

  I clicked on the link to take me to the supplier’s website. I’d be stupid not to stock up while the getting was good. I wasn’t sure how it was in the rest of the country, but in my part of Georgia, spring and summer was “mudding season.” People piled into their trucks—or their buddies’ trucks—and headed for the hills. Traversing through the rugged terrain, they tested their trucks’ capabilities as they tore through the bogs and ripped through the muddy fields and woods. If the truck wasn’t covered in brown mud by the time they were done, they didn’t do it right.

  Needless to say, I serviced a lot of vehicles during the season.

  Perhaps thoughts of selling were premature. If I could make enough during this busy time, maybe I could hold things together a few more months. Put off selling. Put off maybe losing Chance and risking the fragile new relationship that had blossomed between us. Maybe I could hold off a little longer. Just a little longer.

  Chance

  My morning had started way too early. Sleep came in fits and starts, so I finally gave up. At four in the morning, I went for a ten-mile run, then pushed my body through a punishing workout. Not exactly at SEAL level, but damn close.

  The demons quieted as I sweated and grunted, and a new idea grabbed hold. I couldn’t be stupid or hot-headed in my bid to save Mandy. I’d learned quickly in the SEALs that the team always had my back. No man ever had to go it alone. Or should go it alone. I needed a team. People who were trained in combatting lowlife thugs like Walter and this loan shark. Someone like Agent Mark Butler of the FBI, who had resources and the backing of the government to take down the corrupt organization.

  Since Mandy couldn’t talk to the FBI without Walter knowing, I would become her voice, her representative. I’d be the liaison and take on the risk. And I would do it with Mandy’s blessing. If I didn’t—if I went behind her back—then I wouldn’t deserve her. I’d made her one promise, and a SEAL kept his word. A man kept his word to the woman he loved.

  I parked near the garage and pulled out my phone, only realizing as it rang it was barely seven o’clock. Still, Mandy picked up on the second ring.

  “You didn’t sleep in?”

  Mandy groaned. “No. I had the books to do, so I got an early start.” An edge of concern crept into her tone. “Wait, what’s the matter? Everything okay at the garage?”

  “It’s fine,” I said. “I called to say, to ask, uh… Mandy, I trust you. I’m asking you to remember that when I tell you what I’m about to tell you.”

  Mandy didn’t say anything. I took a deep breath.

  “I’m sick of Walter harassing you. It needs to stop. I was gonna confront him today, without⁠—”

  “Jesus, Chance!”

  “I didn’t. I haven’t. I’m calling you first. I have a plan, if you’re willing to listen.”

  For a long, tense moment, Mandy just breathed. I could picture her on the other end, gathering herself with an effort. Choking back the urge to yell.

  “What’s your plan?” she asked at last.

  “Use me as your go-between with the FBI. I want to talk to Butler and pool our resources. With my SEAL training and his government connections, I think we could bust these goons once and for all. Get them out of your life and get our lives on track.”

  Mandy inhaled sharply. “Our lives? Yours and mine?”

  “The future we talked about. Your dream. Our dream.”

  Mandy made a broken sound. I waited, not breathing. If she said no, I’d respect that. I’d give her more time. But⁠—

  “I trust you,” she said. “But if you’re going to do this, I need one more promise.”

  I gripped my phone. “Anything.”

  “Swear no one I love will get hurt. And by the way, that includes you.”

  “I swear,” I said, and I’d never meant anything more. “I love you too, okay? I’m going to go now. I have a lot to do, but I don’t want you to worry. Have your mani-pedi, and I’ll see you after.”

  Ten minutes later, I was unlocking the main door to the garage’s waiting room, jabbing in the code to shut off the alarm. I had already walked the perimeter of the property and felt compelled to double-check that nothing had been tampered with inside.

  Satisfied everything looked as it should, I reached for my phone again and pulled up Butler’s contact. I’d snuck the number into my phone the moment I’d found the card. Now, it was ringing, ringing⁠—

  “Agent Butler.”

  “Hello,” I responded, crisp and clear. “My name is Chance McCallister, and I’m calling on behalf of Amanda Loomis.”

  Butler was quiet a moment, thinking maybe. “She’s in Springwell, right? The garage with the gambling debts? It’s been a couple of years.”

  “Good memory.” I relaxed and exhaled. If Butler could recall that much detail after two years, then I had picked the right man to help.

  “Has something happened?”

  “Yeah, I came home from the Navy and found out what these assholes have been putting her through,” I retorted bluntly. “I’m not going to let them take all her money and intimidate her anymore.”

  A soft chuckle filled the speaker. “Good man. I hated it when she walked away, but I couldn’t make her help me, and to be honest, other cases demanded my attention.”