One Good Man. Charlotte Douglas
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gnawed at his heart. He’d have given everything for such maternal love when he’d been a child, a teenager. Even now. Young Brittany Nathan had no idea how lucky she was.
“But, Mom—”
“You are not having your navel pierced, and that’s final.” This time Jodie failed to hide her exasperation.
“I hate you!” Brittany screamed.
The girl’s lips, sporting almost-black lipstick, contorted in anger. Her green eyes, rimmed with heavy dark eyeliner, sparked fire, and her multiringed fingers clenched. Judging from her T-shirt, jeans and shoes, Jeff thought, black wasn’t her favorite color. It was her only color.
She squared her thin shoulders for another assault. “Kimberly’s mom lets her pierce whatever she wants.”
“And if Kimberly wanted to jump off Devil’s Mountain, I suppose her mother would let her.” Weariness weighed Jodie’s reply.
“I wish you weren’t my mom!” Brittany aimed the words as if well aware of the wound they’d inflict. She pivoted on the heel of her clunky shoe, stomped out the front door and slammed it behind her.
Jeff started to leave his hiding spot but, at the stricken look on Jodie’s face, decided to lay low and give her a minute to compose herself. The woman didn’t deserve the grief her daughter had caused. Only thirty, Jodie had shocked the small town of Pleasant Valley, South Carolina, by becoming pregnant at fifteen. Instead of hiding the fact with an out-of-state abortion or giving up the child for adoption, she’d opted to raise her baby in Pleasant Valley, a gutsy move.
Jeff had been a senior in high school, an outcast in his own right, and he’d secretly identified with Jodie and the ostracism she’d suffered. The day after he graduated, he’d left town to join the Marines and hadn’t laid eyes on Jodie since. He still hadn’t gotten a really good look at her. Behind the lunch counter, she had folded her arms on its Formica surface and buried her head.
“Guess that disqualifies me as Mother of the Year,” Jodie muttered loud enough for Jeff to hear, pain as prevalent as the irony in her voice.
Jeff couldn’t detect sounds of crying. And remaining hidden would only add to his rudeness, so he stepped from behind the shelf and cleared his throat.
Jodie’s head snapped up, and her enormous hazel eyes widened with alarm.
With his first face-to-face look, Jeff’s breath caught in his chest. She wasn’t the scrawny, freckle-faced kid he remembered. Jodie Nathan had grown into a knockout. Even with smudges of exhaustion beneath her eyes and her brown, sun-streaked hair tousled in disarray, her appearance was arresting: the delicate angles of her face reflected a maturity that added to her attractiveness; her feathery brows arched in obvious surprise; and her soft, sensuous mouth made a man think of long, deep kisses that led to more.
Her sage sweater showcased the proud set of her shoulders, braced as if for a blow, and her erect posture lifted small but exquisite breasts. The counter hid her from the waist down, but if the rest of her was as alluring, awkward little Jodie had blossomed into a woman who could turn men’s heads, have a profound effect on lower parts of their anatomy. And break their hearts.
His own was hammering like a minigun, multibarrels firing. His penchant for coolness under fire shattered beneath her intense gaze.
“You heard?” she asked.
“Sorry.” He finally found his voice. “I didn’t mean to. I’ve been waiting to talk to you after the staff left.”
Her eyes narrowed, and uneasiness flashed across her face. “Do I know you?”
“Jeff Davidson. It’s been a while.”
Jodie relaxed slightly at the familiar name, cocked her head and studied him. “You’ve changed.”
“I’m older.”
“It’s more than age.”
He grinned. “I’ve grown up, too. The Marines didn’t tolerate blowhard delinquents.”
“You wanted to talk to me?”
“A proposition.”
Her expression hardened, and her enormous eyes glinted with anger. “Forget it. I wasn’t that kind of girl when you left Pleasant Valley, and I’m not that kind of woman now.”
“Whoa, back up.” He held his hands palms outward as if warding off a blow. “I’m talking about a business deal.”
The distrust in her eyes signaled her disbelief. “After observing my maternal ineptitude firsthand, you can’t possibly think I can help with your home for troubled teens.”
“Grant’s told you about my project?”
She shook her head. “Merrilee Stratton keeps my darling brother too engrossed in wedding plans for long chats with his kid sister. But rumors about you and your project are flying all over town.”
Jeff eyed her closely and detected no resentment when she spoke of her brother. Jodie was apparently happy about Grant’s upcoming marriage. But her tone had changed when she’d mentioned rumors. If he read her correctly, hers wouldn’t be the first negative attitude he’d encountered since returning home. Plenty of people would be glad to see Pleasant Valley’s former bad boy fall on his face. And get out of town.
But Jodie’s cooperation was crucial to his project. He couldn’t let her refuse at the get-go. To ward off an initial turndown, he’d involve her gradually. Win her over slowly. And if he hit a snag maybe Grant could help grease the skids.
“If you have a few minutes,” he said, “I’d like to fill you in on my plans.”
With a frown that creased the perfect silken skin between her eyebrows, she hesitated. “If you’re soliciting funds, you’re wasting time. My own wayward teen has busted my budget.”
Jeff shook his head. “It’s a business deal, like I said. You’d be paid. If you’re interested.”
He’d kept his voice casual, as if her compliance didn’t matter. He’d scare her off for sure if she knew how much he needed her help. Or how much more he wanted her involved, now that he’d had a good look at the grownup Jodie.
During his years as a Marine, Special Ops had been a man’s job, and he’d encountered precious few women. The ones who had crossed his path had been either officers or foreign nationals, all off-limits. He’d lived like a monk, and he’d liked it that way. His work had required intense concentration. Sexual liaisons and emotional entanglements dulled a man’s edge and might have gotten him or his team members killed.
But officers and foreigners belonged to his past. Jodie was his future and one hundred percent red-blooded American woman, the prettiest he’d ever seen. His long-suppressed interest soared.
“I can talk,” she was saying, “but only a minute. Want some coffee? I have a fresh pot.”
“Sounds good.”
Jeff reined in his galloping imagination and focused on the job at hand. Since his return, he’d been met with mixed reactions in his hometown, everything from curiosity to encouragement to outright hostility. He wasn’t certain exactly where Jodie’s attitude fell on that continuum, but at least she hadn’t cut him off without letting him speak, more than he could say for some folks.
As a teen growing up in this backwater town, his go-to-hell attitude had been a good cover against loneliness and his outcast status. As an adult, he struggled to overcome the residual effects of that rebellious past in order to succeed.
And he wanted success, not only for himself, but especially for the kids whose lives hung in the balance.
Jodie returned with two mugs of coffee and nodded toward a table at the front of the café. The closest to the door, he noted with wry amusement. In case she needed to bolt into the street.
“You