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Serving Trouble(39)



“Beer. Whatever you recommend. I don’t need the fancy stuff.”

Noah nodded and turned to pour a pint.

“She told me that she has MST,” Josh said as Noah turned around and handed him the glass. “Military sexual trauma, right?”

Noah nodded, unsure what to say. He didn’t think Caroline talked about what had happened. Hell, she’d never used the official term with him.

“I’m guessing that’s why she went AWOL and someone’s after her now?” Josh continued.

“It is,” Noah said. “And why you might want to reconsider your plans to bake a third pie.”

Josh looked down at his beer and shook his head. “It figures that when I decide I’m ready to settle down, to find what my brothers have, I’d fall for the one woman who’s a long way from having so much as a conversation alone in a room with me.”

“And if she’s arrested, Caroline might face time in a military jail,” Noah added.

“That would be a new spin on long-­distance.”

What the. . .

Noah rested his hands on the bar and leaned forward. “You’re planning to ask her out?”

“No,” Josh said. “Right now, I want to be her friend. I know what it’s like to work your way back from something you’re not sure you can overcome. And hell, I’ve seen Lena struggle with her post-­traumatic stress.”

“This is different,” Noah cut in.

“Of course it is.” Josh met his gaze across the bar, his smile gone. “But I look at her and I see a beautiful, determined woman. I’m not going to walk away because it’s hard to be her friend right now, and impossible to hope for more. Everyone has their problems, man. It’s all about how they face them. Caroline did whatever it took to find you and warn you about whatever has her carrying a handgun while washing dirty pint glasses. I have to admire that.”

Noah nodded as the door to the back swung open a second time and Josie marched into the room. She’d faced a helluva lot and yet here she was, smiling at customers. She’d buried her child and still refused to give up on paying his bills. Guilt and pain had hit her hard. But she was fighting back. Dammit, he loved that about her.

Love?

A decent dose of “fuck me” settled on his shoulders, threatening to force him to the ground with his head between his legs so that he didn’t hyperventilate. But he fought back. Of course he loved Josie. She was like family. One night in a barn—­shit, make that two nights now—­didn’t lead to falling in love. Not that he was prepared to tackle that particular challenge right now, piled up onto everything else.

But maybe love didn’t have to be a challenge.

And he sure as shit shouldn’t use it as a reason to walk away from Josie, even if she was pushing him to the door. They’d been friends for too long. He wasn’t about to give that up. Plus, he knew she was safe when she was serving up drinks in his bar.

“Plus, I like Caroline’s girl-­next-­door freckles,” Josh continued, drawing Noah’s attention back to the man sipping his beer across the bar. “They’re cute. Not what you’d expect from a woman who enlisted in the marines.”

“She’s tough,” Noah said, knowing her “cute” looks had attracted their CO too. He’d heard the guys talking about them.

“Yeah, I get that. She pulled her gun on me when I came in carrying a bourbon pecan pie.”

“She’s on edge.” He should probably reconsider letting her have her weapon. Although he doubted that he stood a chance of getting it back now.

“Sounds like she has every reason to be. Then she smiled and put it away when she saw me. You know, I think she liked my pie. Even if she did give it to your dad.”

“She might,” he admitted, still watched Josie out of the corner of his eye. She laughed with the girl sipping on her Bloody Mary.

I should ask her if Caroline’s pulled a gun on anyone else. I should find out if her dad plans to drop by, and make sure he uses the front entrance. I should tell her that I admire her. That I want her. That I know she’s afraid of getting hurt. Shit, I’m scared I’ll be the one to hurt her. But dammit, I want to help her face her fears. . .

He slapped his palm on the bar, silencing the voice in his head. “Hold on a sec.” Then he turned and walked to the ser­vice side of the bar. “Josie,” he called.

She glanced over her shoulder, then headed his way. The sway of her hips beneath her fitted black skirt drew his attention south. She’d paired the black mini with a pair of beat-­up Converse sneakers and the Big Buck’s Country Bar T-­shirt he’d given her the first night. Her hair was still damp from her shower and pulled into a librarian’s bun at the back of her head. She was an oddball mix of comfort and sexy as hell. She stopped on the other side of the wood access panel to the back of the bar.