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The Marine Finds His Family
Angel Smits
His most important mission US marine DJ Hawkins is on a mission to locate his son's mother and discover why she abandoned the boy. To DJ's surprise, Tammie Easton is easy to locate, and it soon becomes clear she has her reasons for staying away. But can he protect her from her past? Determined to ignore the surge of renewed attraction, he vows to help her.Unraveling her life is intense and DJ respects the woman she's become…even as he catches glimpses of the girl he fell in love with years ago. Now, DJ will do anything to keep Tammie safe for his son…and himself.
His most important mission
US marine DJ Hawkins is on a mission to locate his son’s mother and discover why she abandoned the boy. To DJ’s surprise, Tammie Easton is easy to locate, and it soon becomes clear she has her reasons for staying away. But can he protect her from her past? Determined to ignore the surge of renewed attraction, he vows to help her.
Unraveling her life is intense and DJ respects the woman she’s become…even as he catches glimpses of the girl he fell in love with years ago. Now, DJ will do anything to keep Tammie safe for his son…and himself.
“You—” DJ strolled close “—are going to learn how to hunt.”
“Hunt? Hunt what?”
“The enemy.”
Dom’s face, and all the months of pain and anger, filled Tammie’s mind. It must have shown on her face. DJ nodded and sat at the table. “Oh, yeah. You’re gonna do just fine, mama bear.”
She fought the smile at his unintended compliment. She’d do anything for Tyler, and she liked knowing DJ knew it.
“What’s this? My last meal or fortification?”
“Definitely fortification.” He took a bite of the thick burger, and Tammie stared. “Oh, don’t worry. I remembered you don’t like onions—I left them off.”
A wisp of memory joined them. She didn’t dislike onions, but at the time she’d said that she’d been on the beach with the cutest boy she’d ever met and was hoping he’d kiss her… Her face warmed.
Dear Reader (#ulink_9ef6d9e5-8c3e-550b-9f98-0009dba85146),
When dreaming up the Hawkins clan, youngest brother DJ stepped out of the mist first. A wild child, and an avowed bachelor, I wondered how this dedicated marine would handle suddenly becoming a father. Living in a military community, I witnessed men and women combine home and duty, so I knew he could do it. But the woman he was destined to love wasn’t someone I understood.
How does a mother abandon her child? I’d fallen in love with Tyler in A Family for Tyler (Mills & Boon Superromance, February 2014) and thought maybe he was better off without her. So I auditioned several women for DJ, but none fit like Tammie. The only way I could imagine leaving my kids would be to protect them. Once I understood that about myself, Tammie’s story unfolded.
The Marine Finds His Family is the second book in this series. I’m having such fun writing about the Hawkins siblings! Readers can contact me at angel@angelsmits.com, or visit me at angelsmits.com (http://www.angelsmits.com) for links to Facebook, Twitter and Pinterest.
Happy reading!
Angel Smits
The Marine Finds His Family
Angel Smits
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ANGEL SMITS lives in Colorado with her husband, daughter and puppy. Winning the Romance Writers of America’s Golden Heart Award was the highlight of her writing career, until her first Mills & Boon book hit the shelves. Her social work background inspires her characters while improv writing allows her to torture them. It’s a rough job, but someone’s got to do it.
This is for my editor, Karen Reid, who somehow gets my vision and makes me strive for my very best. The creative process is not always easy, but she makes even the painful parts enjoyable.
Thank you to Paul and Caleb, who lent me Hamlet and Pork Chop.
And as always, Ron.
Contents
Cover (#u2b99cfc5-d455-5a7f-8ee8-cbfa1e68945d)
Back Cover Text (#ucae6dcea-4c4a-562d-8182-11b336030302)
Introduction (#udbd24281-858c-59ad-bbd1-70d776e2a5c8)
Dear Reader (#ulink_a5bbbfbe-89ef-55b8-9f22-703cd34da5c4)
Title Page (#u6c5aa6fd-73d4-54e6-ab4d-e3e0c38bc5fd)
About the Author (#u34613b02-0960-509a-ab23-87c85b1a9fd2)
Dedication (#u8029f716-f342-5e80-8279-2bcb2d52e6e5)
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_2c7ab1dc-4534-5081-88f6-dc13afb63bc4)
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_3aeb1838-e078-5150-b9da-7cee69b07a97)
CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_4eb448a6-659d-55b9-8264-39606437d384)
CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_5b008d20-eaaf-523c-8154-d4cba7036cb1)
CHAPTER FIVE (#ulink_f1644a5b-a4f4-57bf-8441-70c1d6eba56a)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_da0d827f-1d90-570d-84cc-e17376bd27ef)
“AW, MAN. IS THAT what I think it is?”
Captain DJ Hawkins heard his buddy Colin’s words the same instant he spied the bright red-and-white postal box. He hoped—just as he knew Colin hoped—it was from his sister Addie. Getting a closer look, he saw that the return address confirmed it. Yes. Cookies.
The box rattled and Colin reached over and tried to swipe it. No way. DJ wasn’t sharing. Not yet, anyway. Not until he’d stuffed himself to the gills, and then only maybe.
Stowing the last of his gear, DJ ripped open the box, yanked out the plastic bag Addie had wrapped the cookies in and stuffed one very broken, very delicious peanut butter chocolate chip beauty into his mouth. He sank to his bunk in pure bliss.
Just to torment Colin, he groaned aloud in near ecstasy. For a minute or two he was no longer in this godforsaken hole in the world, waiting for the next enemy attack. He was a five-year-old whose big sister made the world’s best cookies.
“You gonna share?”
“Not a chance.” DJ laughed. He could feel the disappointment rolling off Colin. “Don’t pout about it.” He tossed the plastic bag to Colin—it wasn’t as if the crumbs could get any more busted up.
“She should just pack a spoon.” Colin reached into the bag and scooped out a handful of the sweet, gooey mess.
Most days DJ really did love his life. He hadn’t joined the military with the notion that he’d stay safe all the time. He’d figured out a long time ago that he wasn’t a stay-at-home, family kind of guy. He’d watched his older siblings shoulder too much responsibility after Dad’s death. He’d seen the life go out of them when they were just kids. He would never let that happen to himself.
But that didn’t keep him from missing his family.
The care packages helped. And his three sisters were great about sending them—cookies, toothpaste and really bad books were the norm. His two older brothers managed to send emails every now and then. He laughed at the image of either Wyatt or Jason baking. Yeah, their expertise ran more in the area of picking out a bag of Oreo cookies.
Expecting the package to include a letter, DJ wasn’t disappointed, though the feminine handwriting didn’t look familiar. For an instant he wondered if he’d gotten the right package.
His taste buds confirmed these were Addie’s cookies, though. Plus, his name and his last stateside address, Mom’s house, were clear on the envelope. Then he noticed Addie had written on a little yellow sticky note and stuck it on the outside. “This came in the mail. Thought I’d send it along.” Yep, it was his.
He tore open the seal, surprised in this day and age of email and computer-printed letters to see the old-fashioned lined school paper. Several drugstore-printed photographs fell out.
Slowly, he unfolded the letter and stared at the date. Two months? This had been sent, or at least written, two months ago?
The words flowed in pretty curls of blue ink.
DJ,
You probably don’t remember me. I don’t know why you would. It was only one week. A single week in your life that completely altered mine. I can’t blame or regret it...though it saddens me to think of it that way.
It’s time you know. You have a son. I’ve stuck in pictures of him. He looks like you. So much like you. You’ll see. But that isn’t the purpose of this letter.
His name is Tyler. He’s in Texas. I can’t do this anymore.
The name Tammie was scrawled across the bottom of the page, the ink smudged.
He stared at the pictures. What the...? A boy and a familiar young woman smiled at him from the dozen images.
Distant, banished memories rushed in. Eighteen. He’d been a grand total of eighteen years old. Fresh out of high school, prepping to head to basic training in two months. He and three buddies had packed a car and headed to the Gulf Coast beaches of Florida. He couldn’t recall why they’d picked Florida. Someone’s harebrained idea.
Two weeks of no school, no parents and no commanding officers. Heaven. Pure heaven.
DJ’s memories, foggy and age-worn, flickered. He recalled the pretty blonde, too much beer and a long night on a sandy beach. He smiled. Those carefree days seemed so far away.
Picture after picture. His mind raced. How long had it been since he’d been with Tammie? Eight...nine years? The baby photos didn’t show him the resemblance, but the others... Three years old, four, six, eight...
DJ’s vision narrowed and nearly went black. The whole world moved in slow motion around him. The tent flapped in the wind and the scrape of blowing dirt against the canvas sounded like a lion fighting to get in.
Despite the desert heat in this outpost, a chill shot through him, icicles instead of sand particles cut across his heart. This wasn’t possible.
He had a kid?
A kid he hadn’t even known about?
He scooped up the pictures scattered across his bunk. As he stared at the boy with the wide grin, he couldn’t deny it. The boy looked exactly like him at that age.
My God. The words in the letter tumbled through his mind over and over again.
What the hell was he supposed to do now? His brain was mush half the time these days, what with the long hours, the heat and all the energy he gave his job. He couldn’t wrap his mind around any of this.
“Hey,” Colin said around a mouthful of cookie as he lounged on his bunk. “What gives?”
DJ paced, his eyes staring at the child—his child—in the pictures. His heart pounded and the desert heat washed over him. Words? He was supposed to be able to say words? Think words?
His stomach revolted and Addie’s sweet cookies threatened to return to the world. He couldn’t speak. He simply shoved half the photos into his buddy’s hands.
“What the...?” Colin looked first at DJ, then back at the picture and back at DJ again. “Whoa!”
DJ cursed again. What was he supposed to do now? He needed to get back to the base and see if he could get ahold of Wyatt, or Jason, or Addie. Someone. Tyler—was that his name?—was in Texas. They needed to find him—he needed to see his son.
His son.
He looked up just as his commanding officer, Major Dixon, walked into the tent, a cloud of dust on his heels.
The frown on the older man’s face didn’t bode well, and DJ knew he wouldn’t get the chance to call home anytime soon. He stuffed the pictures and letter back into the envelope and shoved it all into the cargo pocket of his uniform. He had to go to work now.
