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Operation Soldier Next Door
Justine Davis
The Cutter's Code series continues with a hero who fights to remember…and love.Instead of a peaceful homecoming, wounded warrior Tate McLaughlin faces an explosion, near-electrocution and Cutter, an incredibly smart dog. Worse, the sexy veteran needs Lacy—the pretty girl next door–to leave him alone! He’s been hurt too many times to risk his heart again.To Lacy Steele, it's apparent that the attacks on her neighbour were no accident. Someone is after him, but his damaged memory offers no clue who! But as they investigate, Lacy finds with Tate an intimacy neither of them have ever known. And it's that bond—and secrets from his deployment—that threaten his life and heart.
The Cutter’s Code series continues with a hero who fights to remember...and love
Instead of a peaceful homecoming, wounded warrior Tate McLaughlin faces an explosion, near-electrocution and Cutter, an incredibly smart dog. Worse, the sexy veteran needs Lacy—the pretty girl next door—to leave him alone! He’s been hurt too many times to risk his heart again.
To Lacy Steele, it’s apparent that the attacks on her neighbor were no accident. Someone is after him, but his damaged memory offers no clue who! But as they investigate, Lacy finds an intimacy with Tate neither of them has ever known. And it’s that bond—and secrets from his deployment—that threatens his life and heart.
You might be surprised at the desires I have.
Tate quashed the traitorous thought. “Actually,” he said, “that’s always my first assumption.”
Lacy blinked. Drew back. “What?”
He shrugged.
“You always assume a woman’s not interested? You’re smart, great-looking and sexy as hell. And you volunteered to serve, to protect. Any woman with a brain would be interested.”
He actually felt his jaw drop. He wanted to look away but couldn’t, not when she was looking at him with such genuine puzzlement, after saying...that. And for a moment all he could think of was that she’d seen his scars and still said it.
“You,” he said carefully, “have a brain.”
“Enough of one to see that you’re not interested.”
He sucked in a deep breath. “Then I’m a better liar than I thought.”
Be sure to check out the rest of the books in this
series—Cutter’s Code: A clever and mysterious canine helps a group of secret operatives crack the case
Dear Reader (#ulink_7258100e-556f-5078-ae9f-a8c6545cc8a7),
I’ve always been a huge supporter of our military veterans. More so now than ever, since they are all volunteers. While I once wore a uniform, it was never the kind that would send me out of the relative safety of home, and I admired those who had such nerve. I still do.
I have also always been fascinated with WWII history. I wonder what it was like on the home front both here and in theater, but mostly I wonder about the people who fought it—and the aftermath. How on earth did those people, that greatest generation, go through that and then come home to lead, for the most part, quiet, unassuming lives? How did you spend all that time in a state of such high tension and brotherhood, watching your comrades die, and then come home and adjust to everyday life? How did you feel knowing that most likely you would never experience anything like that again? Would that be a relief? A letdown? Might you miss it?
So take all those rambling thoughts, throw in another cause dear to my heart—dogs who also serve—and you end up with a story that tugs my heart in about three different ways! I hope it reaches you, as well.
Happy reading!
Justine
Operation Soldier Next Door
Justine Davis
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
JUSTINE DAVIS lives on Puget Sound in Washington State, watching big ships and the occasional submarine go by and sharing the neighborhood with assorted wildlife, including a pair of bald eagles, deer, a bear or two and a tailless raccoon. In the few hours when she’s not planning, plotting or writing her next book, her favorite things are photography, knitting her way through a huge yarn stash and driving her restored 1967 Corvette roadster—top down, of course.
Connect with Justine at her website, justinedavis.com (http://www.justinedavis.com), at Twitter.com/justine_d_davis (http://Twitter.com/justine_d_davis), or on Facebook at Facebook.com/justinedaredavis (https://www.facebook.com/JustineDareDavis/).
Yugo (named after a tour of duty my husband did), nicknamed “Nugget,” was my best friend. A Lhasa-poodle cross, a chunky, curly furred bundle of warmth and love. Creamy beige with beautiful brown eyes, he had expressive feet and a pokey little nose. He wasn’t much for tricks but he loved cuddles and snuggles and was the perfect reading buddy. His front feet danced when he sat and waited for treats and food. When he was laying down he always stretched one leg out and if he could, up on something. I loved his expressive feet!
Yugo, sadly, suffered with anxiety and panic disorders that left him terrified, crying. We taught him to run for a dark room so he had no triggers from sound and light and he could calm down. His illness limited our lives but he was worth it. Despite his necessary isolation, he was a well loved and happy dog. He had many human friends who cheered him on.
Yugo was a part of our family from Dec 2010 until June 18th, 2015.
We saved him from a puppy mill when he was four months old. We rescued him and in return he gave us a great gift.
He loved us unconditionally. He put all his faith and trust in us.
He made us laugh and filled our home with joy.
He taught us patience, commitment, strength, to love unconditionally, and to never give up.
He gave me, personally, a purpose unlike anything I’ve ever known. I was his safety, his calm, his person. All he asked was that we love him and keep him safe.
And so, we did!
~Lisa Miller
Contents
Cover (#u23c69342-cabb-5e23-8908-b2be9b56e67d)
Back Cover Text (#ub1cde011-8f7a-54f0-a4bd-989215eba1cf)
Introduction (#ue554b8dc-1d4d-5ec8-a4ff-4c701cf14331)
Dear Reader (#ulink_82ad2d1f-5232-5fce-a847-e58925573eb1)
Title Page (#ue184a686-97d4-5852-855f-1b0394b3dc5e)
About the Author (#u6e273d9a-156f-50b6-b13a-6bb35f5d2e7c)
Dedication (#uc8a80da6-f15a-58a1-bf46-2d2c1eec9496)
Chapter 1 (#udf929ced-6ee1-5315-bc6e-778d461bef3c)
Chapter 2 (#u8b323cf6-afa7-546e-93a2-4655ab400ed3)
Chapter 3 (#u21709c7d-2cb7-5073-a767-94ba95610723)
Chapter 4 (#u021cdad3-0ec4-5066-bf61-519dd5efd296)
Chapter 5 (#uab417e3f-463b-5227-8900-584fe745b617)
Chapter 6 (#u13a02ad5-2694-5607-ae9a-cfc73ffde014)
Chapter 7 (#u90f3ec4b-4f6a-5331-b68d-bb26d1a8d6ec)
Chapter 8 (#u7eddbcde-7c25-533e-ad6f-ddebcb71077a)
Chapter 9 (#u1eea8162-cff0-5e48-b61c-13fac09a2839)
Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 18 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 19 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 20 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 21 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 22 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 23 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 24 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 25 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 26 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 27 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 28 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 29 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 30 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 31 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 32 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 33 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 34 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 35 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 36 (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 1 (#uc2168f76-7182-5e51-bd47-473b1730e57c)
Hayley Foxworth lay in the darkness of a quiet night, considering waking her husband after a particularly heated dream. The bedside clock read 4:00 a.m. This time of year, late spring, the sun would soon begin to brighten the sky, and then it would clear the Cascades and spill golden light across the waters of Puget Sound. And he would wake on his own. He never could sleep much past sunrise, anyway, whatever time of year it was.
She didn’t mind. Quinn was a complex man, but the core of him never changed; he loved her, and he would always do what he thought was right. Not much more a woman could ask for, she thought as she turned on her side to snuggle up behind him, savoring his heat even on this relatively warm night. He—
A blast shattered the quiet.
Two things happened simultaneously. Her husband bolted upright, instantly awake and alert. And their dog, Cutter, did the same, erupting into a cacophony of barking.
“Damn, that was close,” Quinn muttered, already out of bed and pulling on the jeans and boots he’d discarded so hastily last night. By the time Hayley had pulled on enough to be decent he was at the front door, where Cutter was pawing at the knob, demanding to get out.
“He’ll be gone like a shot.” She knew her clever dog’s demeanor too well by now.
“Then we’ll just have to keep up,” Quinn said.
Hayley spared a moment to be thankful he didn’t tell her to stay safe at home while he checked it out, but then Quinn had never questioned her competence or abilities.
And, of course, she’d had some training herself in the last two years.
Cutter seemed to realize his humans couldn’t move quite as fast as he could, and when he got too far ahead—Hayley had no idea how he decided when that was, but it was consistent—he paused and looked back, waiting for them to catch up. In the darkness his black head and shoulders were almost indiscernible. Were it not for the lighter, reddish brown of his body and tail, she doubted she’d be able to see him at all.
They were headed west, but at the first cross street the dog cut south, and within a few yards Hayley could smell...something. Smoke. Ash. Dust in the air. She wasn’t sure.
“There,” Quinn said, just as she saw it. A man, wearing only trim boxers, coughing, staggering a bit, in front of a small house that looked tidy and well-kept. Except for the huge, smoking hole in the north wall.
Cutter reached the man first. He was either too dazed to be concerned, or he was comfortable with a dog of no small size appearing out of nowhere. She guessed the latter when Cutter nudged him and the man moved to stroke the dog’s head in a gesture that appeared instinctive. From here, all she could tell was that he was tall, with close-cropped dark hair, and thin, although he looked fit rather than bony. A second figure came into view, a woman, running toward the scene from the house next door, apparently using the flashlight of her cell phone to light the way. She arrived at the same moment they did.
“I’ve called the fire department,” she said, looking at the man rather anxiously. “Are you all right?”
The man’s head slowly turned. Hayley saw his face was soot-stained and his right shoulder and left foot were bleeding. Not badly, but definitely. Broken glass? He was looking at his neighbor, his brow furrowed. He gave a slight shake of his head, not in answer but as if to clear it. He didn’t speak.
“I’m guessing his ears are still ringing a bit,” Quinn said.
