The Unseen Enemy Series

Chapter 27

Emma drove to Dean’s house a few days later, still feeling tired from the most recent cycle of chemo. After the last round three weeks earlier, she thought she had seen the worst that it could get, but she had been way wrong. And according to Dr. Fife, the round in two weeks would be worse again. She was exhausted just thinking about it.

Despite her body’s tiredness, she longed to see Dean. She needed a break from cancer, needed to be where things were simple and clear. Dean was about feeling good, about comfort and strength, about sleeping soundly in his arms.

God knows, I need all those things right now.

She got to his house and climbed out of her car slowly. She grabbed her overnight bag from the passenger side seat and slammed the door.

“Hey, Emma.”

She looked at Dallas’ front porch to see the guys kicking back and having a beer. They looked so achingly healthy and gorgeous – four strong men in prime physical condition, muscled and sun-bronzed – that she almost burst into tears.

Dean got to his feet, alarmed at her appearance. The guys saw it, too: he heard Dallas’ sharp intake of breath, Chris and Jim froze for a few seconds. Emma looked awful, she looked really ill. She was deathly pale and had dark smudges under those amazing eyes. She had definitely lost some more weight, and she looked like she hadn’t slept in days.

He came down the steps, took her bag from her hand. Not caring that the guys were watching, he gently touched her face. “You OK, baby?”

“Yeah.” She smiled at him, that sweet, beautiful smile, and he relaxed a bit. “Just tired.”

“Rough week?”

“Yeah. Sure was.”

“OK, come on. You want a beer?”

“God, I’d love one.”

They climbed up on Dallas’ front porch and all three guys jumped to their feet to offer her their chairs. She immediately felt better. She knew that nobody here would have any articles on AML for her to read, or exhort her to keep thinking positive. These guys would ply her with beer and then send her off to have s*x. Perfect.

She had come to know them over the past couple of months, since it seemed that Dallas’ place was some kind of unofficial club house. Jim and Chris spent lots of time hanging out on the front porch, drinking beer and enjoying the blazing summer heat, talking about nothing much, or not talking at all.

Secretly, she was fascinated by the guys, by their clear-yet-unspoken bond. Emma had been able to piece together quite a bit of their backstory, since she had discovered that Chris was most chatty in the kitchen, Jim relaxed best on the porch, Dallas actually dropped his joking tone if she had a morning coffee alone with him, and Dean was strangely and sweetly open and vulnerable after s*x.

She knew that Dallas was a kind of odd-man-out, in that he hadn’t been a Ranger with the other guys, but he did have some kind of specialized skill that had brought him into their unit often. If she had to guess, and based on his unflinching powers of observation and his amazing ability to sit still and silent for long periods of time, she’d say that he had been a sniper. But she wasn’t about to ask.

She wasn’t going to ask any of them anything about their time in Afghanistan. She knew that none of them were anywhere near over what they had done or seen, and she wasn’t about to open that box of nightmares.

So here she sat on Dallas’ porch, her body unwinding and letting go of her tension. The guys were all looking at her, watching her relax. When she settled a bit deeper into the chair, Dallas decided to tease her a bit, just to test the waters.

“So, darlin’. How was your trip with my favorite redhead?”

Emma grinned at Dallas. “It was OK. Wait ‘til you see the pictures for the new perfume campaign this winter.”

Dallas leaned forward. “Tell me.”

“I can’t. I signed a confidentiality agreement. But Olivia? Looks amazing.”

He almost groaned aloud. “Stop teasing me, Emma, I beg of you.”

She took a sip of her beer and grinned again. Next to her, Dean relaxed completely. He was happy to see her, he realized. He’d spent the whole day in a fever of impatience, so much so that Jim had noticed at work and started looking at him funny.

Fuck me. I missed her.