"So, you're saying that she lured you there with the promise of food."
Jesse turned on their street and came to a stop in front of their house. "Yes."
"That seems reasonable." Jack grunted and said nothing else.
They had all been a little worried about Jack since he returned from a mission over a year earlier-he always seemed out of sorts and uncomfortable around people. Then there were the phone calls. Ones like this where he didn't say much at all.
Jesse clicked off the speaker and held the phone up to his ear. "What's up?"
His silence continued for a few moments. "Nothing. Was thinking about heading out your way for a visit."
"But?"
He huffed into the phone. "Well, I have unresolved issues."
What the hell did that mean? "What kind of issues?"
"That damned dog. I swear to God if it comes in my garden one more time and eats my tomatoes, I'm going to shave its butt."
"Wait, what?"
"That dog. My neighbor's dog. He gets in my yard all the time."
"And you can't come visit because of that?" Jesse asked. This was a bit worrisome. The fact that his brother was weirding out over his tomatoes was, well, weird. He knew Jack had made some changes in his routine to accommodate the PTSD he had been dealing with the last few years. The fact that he was becoming obsessed about the plants bothered Jesse.
"I have no one else to watch my garden and there's a good chance she would let everything die."
"She? The dog?"
Jack's sigh was filled with irritation. "No. Dr. Richmond."
"And who is that?"
"Good God, Jesse, aren't you paying attention? I'm talking about my next-door neighbor, the vet. Her dog gets in my garden."
Again he had to wonder just what the hell they were talking about. "That's not a euphemism, is it?"
"For what?" Then it apparently dawned on Jack what he meant. He made a disgusted sound. "You need help."
Jesse pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at it, then brought it back. "I need help?"
"All you ever do is talk about sex."
"I do not."
"Maybe you should because Lord knows you don't get any."
Irritated, he got out of the car and slammed the door. He made his way up the walk to the Santinis' house and onto the covered porch before the rain started to come down harder. "How did this all suddenly become an argument about my sex life?"
He rang the doorbell and turned away from the door as he waited for a response from his brother.
"Well, I guess we could call it an argument if you actually had a sex life, but since you don't, it's just sort of conversation about your lack of one."
"I have a sex life, thank you very much. I don't need your help in getting laid."
"Well, that's good to hear," a throaty, female voice, with enough Georgia in it to to make him melt a little bit, said from behind him. He turned and found Zoe Jones, sister-in-law to Gee, standing in the open doorway grinning at him.
Fuck.
"Who's that?" Jack asked over the phone.
"None of your damned business," Jesse said. "Go shave some dog's butt."
He clicked off the phone and shoved it into his jeans' pocket.
"Shave dogs' butts?" she asked.
For a second, he had trouble responding. She was a pretty woman, almost too pretty. She didn't have a stitch of makeup on, but her cocoa colored flesh shone with something no amount of makeup could emulate. Her golden eyes sparkled with delight, as she smiled at him.
"Jack, my brother, is having an issue with a neighbor's dog."
She laughed and opened the screen door. "Come on in."
It was then he noticed the bruising beneath her eye was almost gone, but she still had a cast on her arm. He'd been told about the car wreck and that she had been spending time with the Santinis while she recovered for the last couple of weeks. He didn't know much more than that.
As he walked into the foyer, the smells of Italy hit him. Tomato, pasta, cheese … and, not to mention, fresh baked bread. He sighed.
"I know," she said "I think Joey is trying to fatten me up."
She cocked her head to indicate that he should follow her down the hall. He did and tried to keep his mind on dinner. It was hard to do with her in front of him. She wasn't that tall, and the tips of her braids stopped just short of her ass. Her very shapely ass, which the jeans she wore accentuated perfectly.
"She cooks all day like that. By the time I make it back to Georgia, they'll have to roll me down the streets of Savannah."
They stepped into the kitchen and it was just as he remembered-not old fashioned, even though he knew the home was considered historical. They had redone the entire kitchen, probably to Joey's specifications. He'd been there quite a bit in the last year. When his sister married into this family, Joey had adopted them all-including his father to an extent. She turned and smiled at them both.
"First of all, don't make it sound like I'm being mean to you. Didn't I make you some layered dessert?" she asked, wiping her hands on her apron. "And second of all, what took so long?"
Zoe shrugged, but he didn't miss the gleam in her eye. He knew something bad was coming from her.
"Jesse was talking to his brother on the phone about a dog's butt and Jesse's lack of a sex life."
Chapter Two
Zoe had to fight the snicker tickling her throat. Seeing Perfect Jesse Johnson put on the spot was just too much fun. The man never seemed to have a hair out of place and his jeans didn't even have a wrinkle in them. From what Joey described, the man had driven over an hour and yet he still looked fresh as a daisy, as her mother used to say.
"Zoe, quit messing with Jesse," Joey ordered. She walked over in that way of hers and gave the Marine a huge hug. "It's so good to see you. How are you doing?" She released him and returned to making the salad.
"Okay. Been on a few TDYs."
Temporary Duty. Now that she had a brother-in-law in the military, Zoe picked up on the acronyms a bit more. TDYs were military business trips. Or that's the way she thought of them.
"I thought I heard a male voice coming to save me from the female treachery I live with now," Papa said coming into the kitchen. He clapped Jesse on the back with the same kind of affection he had for his own sons. "Glad you could make it. Joey was getting worried about you."
He walked over to the fridge and pulled out a couple of beers. "Want one?"
Jesse nodded and accepted the bottle.
"Now, why don't we get out of here?"
They left Zoe and Joey in the kitchen, just like men always did.
"He doesn't mess with my kitchen. I told you that."
She turned and looked at Joey. "Reading minds again?"
Joey laughed. "Well, I know some people will say it looks like I am old fashioned, but my kitchen is my kitchen. That man can't cook. Last time I let him bake, he burned the brownies and ruined a fifty dollar pan."
Zoe laughed thinking of just how much trouble Papa must have been in after that incident. "I thought all Italians could cook."
"Oh, he can do the basics, but he gets in here when he's bored and starts messing with my pots. And worse, he tries to hide it." She sprinkled some cheese on the salad. "Jesse Johnson is a fine looking young man."
And, there it was. She knew when Joey had said Jesse was coming for dinner that she was trying to fix them up. But, she had expected her to at least pretend she wasn't trying to do it.
"Wow. Just wow."
"What does that mean?" she asked, her eyes widened.
"That wasn't even subtle. I mean, I expected more of ya, Joey."
She tried to look stern but laughed. "I was just remarking on it. I worry about him and Jack a little bit. Jack's had a rough time of it. He's been diagnosed with PTSD."
"Oh."
Joey apparently picked up on Zoe's tone. "Now, don't go looking like that. PTSD is bad, but with help, it is manageable. Don't get me wrong, it is hard on the person who has it and hard on the people in his or her life. But contrary to what is shown on television, not all of them are crazy gun toting whack jobs."
"But you worry about Mr. Perfect in there?"
"So you noticed that. There is something about being perfect, Zoe."
"Yeah?"
"Maintaining it is near impossible and when the walls come down, there's hell to pay for everyone."
"So, he's under a lot of pressure?"
"Everyone expects the boy to make General like his father. From what Maryanne tells me, it's been expected of him since he hit puberty. That kind of pressure is never good."