A Soldier's Family. Cheryl Wyatt

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      “So, friends?” He uncrossed his arms and reached out his hand to her.

      Did he want her to actually shake on it? What if he put the moves on her again? Don’t be ridiculous, Celia.

      She tried hard not to judge. God knew she battled gladiators of doubt in that arena. It took a lot to convince her so she mostly kept church people at bay. Like right now.

      Manny’s hand dropped to the bed with a dull thud and he looked…dejected. Regret singed her stomach lining. She had no right pointing out other people’s faults when she stumbled over plenty of her own. Still, trust didn’t come easy to her and when it finally did, discernment of men’s ongoing motives ate at her constantly. Especially dangerous and powerful men like Manny who possessed charm and who reminded her so much of her father.

      A knock outside Manny’s door drew their attention.

      “Hello?” Joel poked his head in. “I’ve got two guys out here anxious to see Manny and his killer bruises.”

      Manny grinned and eyed Celia. “Bradley and Javier?”

      He remembered her son’s name? Her heart thawed a degree.

      Manny situated his covers. “Let ’em in.”

      “Dude! That musta hurt.” Javier gaped at the swelling and bruises on Manny’s face and arms. Bradley just stared. Celia hoped it wouldn’t strike fear in his heart about Joel.

      “Slightly.” Manny grinned.

      “What’s gonna happen now?” Javier asked.

      “According to the doctors, intense physical therapy for up to a year. I had to have reconstructive surgery on my hip.”

      “When will you get to jump again?” Javier asked.

      Manny didn’t answer for the longest time. It tore at her heart to watch his throat constrict like that but she knew he tried to be brave.

      “I’m not sure,” Manny finally answered.

      “Ah, dude, you will get to jump again, right?” Javier asked.

      Again, the Adam’s apple in Manny’s throat gave him away. “I hope so. The next six months will tell.”

      “Six months? That stinks. Bradley said you might do rehab here.”

      For some reason Manny flicked a glance Celia’s way and held it there, almost like a question. “I might.”

      “Dude, I hope you do. I mean, you’re a PJ. An American hero. If you ever wanna use Dad’s weight room in our basement, dude, feel free. Mom could never get rid of it, ’cause she used to walk the treadmill while Dad and I pumped iron. If you ever need a workout buddy, I’m game.”

      Manny’s eyes glittered with something Celia couldn’t discern. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

      Wait. Manny working out in her house? Getting all sweaty and buff just a floor beneath her?

      Nuh-uh. Nope. That wouldn’t be good. What if she ended up falling for the guy or something crazy? She didn’t like that idea.

      She decided against scolding Javier in front of Manny. That might damage her relationship with Javier further. But as soon as she got him alone, he needed to know not to make suggestions like that without consulting her first. She caught Javier’s eye and tossed him “The Mommy Look” instead, which he pretended not to see.

      Unease cinched her stomach tight at the look of hero worship coming from her son’s eyes every time he looked at Airman Péna. Maybe she should keep space between the two of them. She’d worked all these years to steer Javier toward choosing a sensible career, not dangerous ones. Javier didn’t seem at all fazed by Manny’s injuries.

      She worked three jobs and scraped every penny to send him to college. She planned to surprise Javier by prepaying tuition at the local university. That would give him a good start. A better one than she’d had. Hopefully, Javier would appreciate her sacrifice and do well. She could see him behind a fancy executive desk. Certainly not stuffed in some tank or chopper.

      Javier cracked his knuckles. “Dude, I hope you get to go back to the military. That’s the coolest job in the world.”

      All right. That’s it. Celia snapped fingers at her son. “Javier, we need to go. Gotta get crackin’ on that homework.”

      Javier half faced her, his shoulders slumped. “But I have all weekend to—”

      “Please don’t argue with your mom, Javier,” Manny said in gentle but firm tones.

      Celia, Javier and Bradley turned to the bed. Javier started to open his mouth. Manny cast a no-contest expression his way that bordered on stern.

      Oh, boy, here we go. Her son unfortunately had been cursed with her short fuse of a temper and had inherited her inability to control her tongue.

      Which is why it surprised her when Javier’s stance softened instead of hardened into his typical defensive posture.

      Javier bounced on his heels. “Yeah. I need to split and plow through that homework, dude. So, we’ll see you later.”

      Manny waved at Javier and Bradley, and winked at her. “Later.”

      Winked. At her?

      What on earth was she supposed to make of that? The last thing Celia wanted for her or Javier was a flirt with danger.

      Celia straightened her spine and ushered the boys into the hall without a backward glance. The quiet chuckle following from inside the room made her want to trot right back in there and assault him with his IV pole. A conk right between the eyes should do it.

      She let out a long, unladylike groan. This was going to be the longest six months of her life.

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