Chapter 3
Harlow
“What are you doing here?” I asked as I answered the door. Squinting from the bright sunlight, I gaped at Jax Montgomery, who was leaning against the doorjamb like he’d been waiting forever for me to open the door.
“Are you okay?” he questioned. “I rang the doorbell eight times before you answered.”
“Um…yeah. I was just taking a nap. It’s not like I knew you were coming here unannounced,” I finished defensively.
If I’d known it was Jax Montgomery ringing the doorbell, I probably wouldn’t have answered. This isn’t exactly the way I want to admit that he won.
I raked a hand through my hair as I continued to stare at him, knowing I was a total mess. I hadn’t slept well the night before, so I’d fallen asleep on the couch. It was possible that he had rung the doorbell quite a few times before I’d finally woken up.
I sent him my best withering glance of displeasure, but all he did was grin back at me.
God, it was incredibly unfair that a guy with Jax’s wealth and success was also one of the most gorgeous men I’d ever laid eyes on.
I couldn’t see the compelling green eyes that I knew were hidden beneath a pair of dark sunglasses, but every other attractive feature he possessed was on full display.
He kept his brownish hair short, probably just a little longer than it had been in the military. Obviously, he spent a lot of time in the California sun, because he had some lighter highlights in his hair that looked completely natural.
Even dressed casually in a pair of stonewashed jeans and a yellow T-shirt with some kind of surfing logo on it, Jax Montgomery was breathtakingly handsome. The way those everyday clothes hugged one very tall, muscular, droolworthy body was enough to make any woman stare.
Yeah, beautiful men were everywhere in Southern California, but it wasn’t just his hard body and his perfect features that made him so attractive.
Maybe it was his intelligence.
Maybe it was his confidence that bordered on cockiness.
Maybe it was the fact that he seemed to exude an overwhelming amount of male hormones.
Hell, I didn’t know what it was that made my heart trip every time I saw Jax Montgomery, but there was something about him that made the man almost irresistible.
He grinned a little wider as he looked at his watch. “I’m actually late. It’s been two weeks, twelve minutes, and about…fourteen seconds since we made our agreement.”
“Did you come here to gloat?” I asked as I ran a self-conscious hand through my unruly hair again. Maybe I didn’t like him, but it was almost impossible not to feel a little embarrassed when my hot boss showed up at my door, and I knew I looked like crap. “Okay, you won. Are you happy? I didn’t plan on being a sore loser. I was going to call you.”
As soon as I was ready, which might have taken a day…or three.
He shook his head. “I didn’t drop by to brag about winning,” he said earnestly. “I just wanted to see you. Can I come in?”
I reluctantly opened the door wider. He obviously wasn’t going away, so I might as well deal with him now. “My place is kind of a disaster. I haven’t had a chance to pick up.”
So, that statement wasn’t quite accurate. The truth was, I hadn’t been motivated enough to care about picking up, and keeping my small apartment as tidy as I normally did. Admittedly, that wasn’t something I really wanted to share with Jax. My complete lack of interest in anything made me feel like a total slug.
As he entered, I hurriedly ran around my small living room and picked up a couple of used coffee mugs. I quickly straightened up the couch pillows and tossed the throw blanket over the back of the couch before I went into the kitchen.
“It’s fine, Harlow. I came to see you, not your apartment,” he drawled. “And I brought a friend I want you to meet.”
Oh, God!
I turned, and met Jax’s mesmerizing gaze. He’d ditched his sunglasses, and I could see a hint of mischief in his gorgeous eyes.
I looked away from him to frantically search for the visitor, expecting to be mortified because someone I didn’t know had followed him into the apartment.
My eyes moved from Jax to the unknown guest, and the tension suddenly drained from my body.
His friend wasn’t a “who.”
It was more of a “what”—in canine form.
My heart melted as I met the most earnest pair of circular brown eyes I’d ever seen peeking out from a very furry face.
I dropped to my knees and petted the adorable dog. “Oh, my God. What a cute dog. Is this a girl or a boy?”
“Her name is Molly. She’s a Lhasa apso, and she’s one of the smartest dogs I’ve ever helped train. I thought you could use some company for a while. But she’s just on loan. Her owner will want her back, eventually.”
I smiled as I sat, and Molly moved into my lap, licked my face, and then made herself comfortable on top of my crossed legs.
I ran my hand over her silky coat as I asked, “Don’t Lhasa apso dogs usually have really long coats?”
“Usually,” he agreed. “But Molly isn’t a show dog, and it’s too damn hot here to make her wear a fur coat like that.”
“Not that she isn’t adorable just the way she is,” I assured him. “She almost looks like a puppy.”
“She’s five, and most Lhasas look like puppies forever with a shorter haircut.”
“She’s so sweet. Who’s her owner?”
“Me,” he answered with humor in his voice. “And my golden retriever, Tango, will go into perpetual mourning if I don’t bring his buddy back at some point.” He motioned to the canine. “Molly. Come.”
I was slightly sad when the pup immediately went to Jax’s side.
“Down,” he instructed.
Molly laid down instantly.
“Wait,” he said calmly.
The dog put her head down on her front legs like she was perfectly content to stay exactly where she was right now.
“She’s such a good girl,” I said in a slightly awed tone as I got to my feet. “Did you really help train her?”
He nodded. “I’ve been working with an organization that trains service dogs for veterans with PTSD for several years now. Molly was the one dog I just couldn’t give up after her training, but I can lend her out for emergencies when somebody needs her.”
Okay, I was surprised. I’d definitely never pegged Jax as a dog lover, or the kind of guy who donated his time to help train them. Most likely, he supported this organization financially as well if the program was something he believed in that strongly.
I went into the kitchen, found a clean coffee mug, and started making myself a cup of coffee. “I’ve heard about a few of those programs. Is it helping our military vets?” I asked curiously.
“Definitely,” Jax replied. “We can tailor a dog’s training for different levels of PTSD. Sometimes all they need is an emotional support dog, and sometimes they need a dog with a higher level of training to be a service dog.”
“So what’s the difference between the two?” I questioned.
I finished making my coffee, and then brewed another for Jax when he confirmed that he wanted one. While he was waiting, he explained how the program worked, and how they trained different types of dogs.
By the time he was done, I had to give the guy kudos. It sounded like his heart really was into helping veterans.
“So what got you interested in this program?” I asked as I gave him his coffee and we went to sit in my living room.
The space seemed much too small as Jax lowered his powerful body into my recliner, and I sat on the couch.
He called Molly into the living room. “Do you want her to sit with you?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Just call her up to you,” he instructed.
“Molly, come,” I said tentatively.
Without any further instruction, the dog happily leaped onto the couch and settled herself right beside me with her head in my lap.
“Good girl,” I crooned as I stroked her silky head.
“I got involved because I believe in the program,” Jax said, finally answering my question. “I don’t think I ever realized how much some of the things I saw on a few of my missions affected me until I was actually out of the military. Maybe once the adrenaline wasn’t constantly pumping, I finally noticed how hypervigilant I was, even when I didn’t have to be. I started having some occasional flashbacks, and I went through several months of not sleeping more than a few hours because of recurrent nightmares. When I signed on with Last Hope, Marshall saw a few of the signs, and he pushed me to go see a good therapist for PTSD, and recommended I get myself a pet.” He took a sip of his coffee and swallowed before he added, “I’m not sure which one helped more, the therapy or the dog, but having that constant canine companion did help. Dogs don’t judge. They accept you exactly as you are as long as you’re good to them.”
I automatically opened my mouth to respond, but Jax had stunned me into silence. I took a very slow sip of my coffee to wrap my mind around what he’d just said.
I guess I’d never expected Jax to just throw out the fact that he’d suffered from some PTSD after getting out of Special Forces. I knew that the elite military group had a high number of guys who suffered from it, and there wasn’t a single shameful thing about admitting that. In fact, my respect for him as a person had just multiplied because he could so easily talk about something that must have made him pretty vulnerable at the time.
I swallowed hard as I realized that Jax was laying out his past experience to make me more at ease. He wanted me to know that he’d been there, done that, and survived it.
He wants me to feel comfortable talking to him. That’s why he shared.
My heart melted just a little as he shot me an earnest green-eyed gaze.
Suddenly, I knew exactly why he put his time and effort into helping other veterans suffering with PTSD. He’d been through it himself, and he wanted to help others with the same issues. Since I was a veteran myself, that touched me more than I wanted to admit.
It would have been easier for a rich, successful guy like Jax to put it behind him and never think about what had happened to him again once he’d resolved his issues.
The fact that he hadn’t, and was willing to talk about it so freely had taken me by surprise.
I finally nodded. “Thank you for what you’re doing. I was active duty Air Force for six years, but I never saw combat. I never even had to leave the country. I guess I was lucky because my MOS felt more like a technical job.”
Jax shook his head. “Marshall told me, and don’t downplay the importance of your support role in missions. What you did was important, Harlow, whether you worked in a combat zone or not.”
I shot him a weak smile. “Thanks. I kind of miss the comradery sometimes. Maybe that’s why I want to help out with Last Hope. Did Marshall tell you I offered my weather specialist services?”
“He did,” Jax said cautiously. “And I’m not against the idea because we could use that help, but we can’t even consider it until you get your head on straight, Harlow. We have to have every team member strong, no matter what their role is in Last Hope,” he said bluntly.
My first instinct was to tell Jax that I was fine, but I knew I wasn’t. “I want to be that person again, but I’m not sure I can be,” I told him in a shaky voice. I was so tired of trying to hide the way I felt that I kept talking. “I can’t pretend like it didn’t happen. I can’t make the nightmares go away. I can’t get rid of the fear of being out in the open, where something could happen all over again. I hate the fact that fear and guilt have made me a completely different woman than I was before this happened, but I can’t change it. God, after what happened to Mark and Taylor, I don’t know if I have the right to be any happier than I am right now.”
“Hell, yes, you do!” Jax said gruffly. “Don’t let a bunch of asshole rebels continue to run your life. If you do, they fucking win.”
I startled as Molly pawed at my leg, stood up, and nudged my face with her snout.
I reached out to stroke her head. “What?” I asked her in a softer voice.
“She can sense your distress,” Jax explained. “She’s trying to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m okay, girl,” I cooed as I stroked her body and patted the space next to me. “Down.”
Apparently satisfied, Molly plopped back down beside me.
“Look at me, Harlow,” Jax demanded.
I looked up, and our gazes locked.
For some reason, I was comforted by the unwavering certainty in his eyes.
“You will get through this,” he said calmly. “One step at a time. I know what happened to you messed with your head, and you may never be exactly the same woman you used to be. Hell, we’re defined by our life experiences, but this won’t change who you are, Harlow. I promise it won’t, and I’ll be with you every step of the way until you tell me to fuck off because you don’t need me around anymore. You got that?”
Feeling mesmerized, I nodded slowly. “I’m scared, Jax,” I confessed. “I’ve never been depressed or unreasonably fearful. I’m not even a functional or useful human being anymore.”
“Yes, you are. You’re just not seeing who you are right now. Just consider this the downtime that you need to regroup, and for fuck’s sake, cut yourself some slack. I get that you feel guilty about Mark and Taylor, but neither of those things were your fault. I hate the fact that as your employer, I sent you into that goddamn country in the first place. I could easily take the blame for what happened to every single one of you in Lania, but that shit would eat me alive. The truth is, it wasn’t anybody’s fault, Harlow. It was a random incident that nobody could have predicted. You got that?”
“I’m not sure—”
“No. Fuck the uncertainty, Harlow. Tell me you got that, because if you don’t, I’ll sit right here and tell you that a million times until you internalize it. If it wasn’t my damn fault, then it wasn’t yours either, right? Think about it, Harlow, and use that brilliant reasoning ability I know that you have inside that intelligent brain of yours. Do you think I’m to blame because I was the asshole who sent you to Lania in the first place?”
Jax wasn’t to blame, nor were any of the Montgomery brothers. It was a routine exploration to a country that was known to be safe. “Of course I don’t think it’s your fault,” I said softly. “You couldn’t have known what would happen. It would be like expecting you to be psychic and predict all of the mass shootings in this country or something similar.”
He lifted a brow as he continued to hold my gaze. “If you can process that truth, then why in the hell are you blaming yourself? You couldn’t have known what would happen, either. You made your decisions based on the fact that Lania was perfectly safe for international travel, which was true. Montgomery sent you there with that same assumption. There was nothing wrong with any of the decisions you made. Taking Taylor to Lania, and inviting Mark to join your team were both perfectly reasonable things to do. Now, tell me you got that.”
My mind started to spin.
If I really reached for sanity and reason, what he was saying made sense.
“Harlow,” he said in a persuasive baritone.
Tears started to pour down my cheeks as I slowly nodded. I was panting with emotional turmoil as I finally said, “Rationally, I know you’re right, but I’m not sure I can turn off the negative thoughts in my head.”
“Hold on to your reason as often as you can,” he suggested. “Once you manage to internalize the truth, everything will change. It won’t happen overnight, Harlow, but it will happen once you can change those thought patterns. Keep telling yourself that it isn’t your fault over and over, and keep reminding yourself that you don’t have the power to predict random incidents that never should have happened. Nobody does. Not even the all-powerful co-CEOs of Montgomery Mining, and there’s very little we can’t do.”
I let out a startled laugh as I realized that he was actually mocking himself and Montgomery with his pseudo arrogance.
I swiped the tears from my face as I muttered, “God knows I’m not nearly as powerful as any of the Montgomery brothers.”
Jax winked at me mischievously. “Glad we got that straight. Now let’s go for a walk. Molly could probably use a short outing.”
And just like that…I went from feeling a little better to complete panic mode in a matter of seconds.
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