No Regrets, No Surrender(5)

Jace and Fin were on their tenth lap and laughter shook their sullen expressions free. Zach dropped back about ten steps and pitched the ball to Logan. His arm gave a little twinge at the wind up. He hadn’t warmed up either.

“How was the meeting?” He adjusted to keep watch on his players, but they were all working well, faces lined with concentration and actually giving advice to each other. In eight weeks of training, they’d finally begun to forge the bonds of teamwork that would help them when they competed.

“We’re going to be busy. Captain Dexter got the grant. We’ll be expanding the physical therapy wing first, and Doc can bring in more counselors. We’re also now classified a trauma one center for returning vets. Ten new families are en route. Within the year, we’re going to have at least two Army specialists and one Air Force to work with. He also closed the deal on the land across the highway. We’ll be adding off-campus houses for the long-term staff.”

“Holy hell.” Zach caught the ball and held it for a moment. “I guess he wasn’t kidding.”

Mike’s Place was the brainchild of the captain. The facility provided first class physical and emotional therapy for wounded military and support for their families. The goal was not only reintegration into civilian life, but the healing of any injuries incurred during service. The inclusion of families was an important component.

“Nope. He’s a man on a mission, and Rebecca’s got a lot of talent when it comes to helping him put those plans in motion. Throw the damn ball.” Logan glared at him.

Zach flung it back. He’d followed him to Mike’s Place for Logan’s therapy after their discharge from active duty. Initially, his focus was to get him back on his feet, but they’d discovered a calling there. Logan worked with the difficult PT patients and understood them because he was one of them. The scars on the left side of his body were a mottled collection of hard ridges. Pins secured the major joints in his left leg and his elbow.

He’d learned to walk and function again, thanks to Mike’s Place. Now he paid that forward to the men and women who needed similar tough love. The final crown to his recovery, though, happened in Las Vegas and currently served in Afghanistan.

An image of Jazz’s sexy, sensual grin flirted across Zach’s mind, and he clamped down on the heat that flooded through him. The last thing he needed was tented shorts on the field. The right corner of Logan’s mouth quirked upward. Yeah, his best friend didn’t miss much.

“She didn’t call last night, did she?”

They’d both worked late, crunching the last of the numbers for their estimates to complete the Captain’s report. The two shared a three-bedroom apartment in the sprawling campus’ residential section. Zach had left before dawn to pick up the uniforms for the team and then hit the field with them by mid-morning.

“Nope. But she and the FET were heading out for meetings so it may be a couple of days before she’s got a secure line to make a call.”

Of all the women to meet, they’d fallen for a Marine. For one wild night in Vegas, they’d shared her. Zach had signed them up for that one-night stand to help Logan overcome a huge hurdle in his recovery—impotence. It more than worked.

They were both hooked on her. Logan got to see her in Germany over a long weekend while Zach covered his PT shifts. Logan repaid that debt three months earlier, helping out with the kids’ sports teams while Zach jetted to meet her in Italy. Just thinking about those three nights was enough to set his blood on fire.

Jazz was as beautiful as she was tough. She’d recently taken the position with FET. He’d argued with her—she was safer in the green zone, running logistics and keeping track of the hundred or so who reported to her. But she wanted to help the people they were working with and, as a woman, uniquely suited to reach out to those most harmed not only by their oppressors but the war in general.

He didn’t like it, but he couldn’t fault her logic. Fluent in six languages, she had skills. She also knew how to handle herself, a fact she’d proven when she dropped him on his ass and had her way with him in the middle of an argument. Laughter fisted in his throat and he chuckled. The boys were at lap thirty, sweating, and not talking so much as grunting encouragement to each other.

They’d be fast friends again and too damn tired to throw a punch by the next day.

“Stop thinking about her, man. Your face is doing the gooey-eyed thing.” Logan’s reminder was an easy jest, but his own guarded expression revealed similar thoughts. Jazz was not the kind of woman a man forgot—for either of them. “How much longer on her contract?”