Through the thick throng of bar patrons, Ed watched her stumble around the pool table, cue in hand. The guy she’d been hanging off of moments before groped her ass when she went by. Ed took another sip of his water. He’d been watching her for over an hour and was sure she was the right woman.
Emma Berk was not what he’d expected.
She aimed the cue ball and shot it toward a solid, which scuttled across the table and into the corner pocket. Again, not what he’d expected.
For the fifth time, he checked the picture on his phone. It almost didn’t look like the same woman. In the photograph, she was well-groomed, looking directly at the camera, her brown hair pulled back and mostly hidden beneath her khaki-colored cap, her uniform pristinely pressed.
The woman he was looking at now was a complete mess. Ed guessed her hair hadn’t been brushed in a few days, and the makeup smudged under her eyes didn’t look like it had been applied today. She wore itty bitty shorts that barely contained her ass cheeks, and if not for the sports bra she was wearing, anyone would be able to see her breasts through the giant, gaping armholes of her draping tank top. In addition to the sports bra, the shirt revealed glimpses of the black ink that decorated her torso. To top it all off, she was completely hammered.
It shouldn’t have surprised him. Not after everything Cain had told him.
Earlier that week, Cain Berk, Ed’s former commanding officer, had asked to meet with him. Since leaving the army, Ed had kept in touch with Cain. Over coffee one evening, they’d had a long chat, a few laughs, and then Cain had asked for a favor.
He’d shown Ed a picture of Emma, his niece, and explained what a difficult time she’d been having adjusting to civilian life. Following in Cain’s footsteps, she enlisted in the army and spent several months in Afghanistan during Operation Attention, helping to train the Afghan National Army.
Now, she was back in Canada, refusing to get a job and spending every night carousing. Cain was concerned her behavior was getting out of hand, and after she’d been arrested for indecent exposure, he’d had called Ed.
Ed really had no idea how he was supposed to help. Cain wanted him to try talking to Emma, but Ed didn’t think that would do any good, and seeing her now, he knew she wouldn’t be open to the idea of anyone giving her advice. But for his former commander, he was willing to try.
He’d come to the Wellington in hopes of doing a little surveillance. He was supposed to call her and set up a meeting next week, but first, he wanted to get a feel for who Emma was. After studying her for all of five minutes, he was pretty sure that a peaceful coffee meeting wasn’t how it would go down.
Vacating his bar stool, Ed approached the billiards room. He found an unoccupied spot along the wall and leaned against it, casually enjoying his ice water while watching her and wondering just what Cain expected him to do.
Anytime she wasn’t bending over the table, she leaned against the big bruiser. Ed hadn’t liked him on sight. It wasn’t just his greasy hair, thick ears, and potato-like nose; it was how he kept groping Emma. Although she encouraged the tanker, he was taking advantage of her inebriated state.
Her friends didn’t seem to be too bothered by it either. It was difficult to tell who from the crowd was with Emma, but Ed was sure of three—a guy and two women. If the situation turned ugly, they wouldn’t be able to provide much aid to their friend.
Ed wasn’t sure if he should step in and try to convince Emma that going home with that gladiator was a poor idea or if he should leave her alone. Really, what did he care if Cain’s niece had horrible taste in men and ended up with some kind of disease from her lack of sense?
But he cared because she was drunk. She wasn’t capable of making the right choice—someone needed to make it for her. He debated on whether to intervene or call Cain to come collect her. While he pondered over his options, she spotted him.
Across the room, she leaned over the table to line up her shot, and her gaze clashed with his. She paused as her stare ran over the length of him. Ed refused to be intimidated by her bold appraisal. Keeping his stance relaxed, he lifted his glass to his lips and took a long drink, his gaze never leaving hers.
Briefly, her eyes narrowed. She attempted to compose herself and, ignoring him as best she could, and took the shot.
The cue ball went wide, knocking into a few other balls and scattering them so that it lined up the next shot perfectly for the opposing team. The ensuing string of curses Emma released would have made any navy man proud.
Glaring at Ed, she shoved the pool cue into the hands of her male friend, then stomped over, stopping with her face mere inches from Ed’s and demanded, “What’s your problem?”
Even though the smell of stale beer assaulted his nostrils, Ed grinned. “I don’t have a problem.”
She cocked a hip and propped her fist on it. “You keep staring at me.”
Through narrow eyes, she continued to study him until she groaned. “Oh, no! You’re Ed, aren’t you?”
That made his smile widen.
“Whatever my uncle told you, you can just forget about it right now. I told him, and now I’m telling you, I don’t need any help.”
She was more coherent than he’d anticipated. She might not be slurring her words, but the three beers he’d seen her pound must be affecting her.
He shrugged. “I’m just here to enjoy a drink.”
Bold as you please, Emma reached out and grabbed his glass. He refused to relinquish his hold, but still, she brought it toward her face. After a skeptical sniff, she tipped it to her lips. “You’re here to spy on me!”
“You got all that from my choice of drink?” He couldn’t help the twitch in his lips. She amused him.
She narrowed her big, baby blues. “Who comes to a bar to drink water?”
The bruiser came around the pool table and headed in their direction. Wanting to avoid a conflict, Ed leaned back against the wall, putting more space between himself and Emma.
“Why don’t you step off, buddy? She’s taken tonight.”
“No worries. I’m definitely not here to muscle in.”
The bruiser narrowed his eyes and grumbled, “Better not be.”
Ed scoffed before taking a drink. “Trust me. Definitely not interested.”
Emma glared. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
He cast his gaze over her. The pictures he’d seen showed her to be a good-looking woman, and looking at her now, he could see the ghost of that beautiful, blue-eyed, fawn-like child. Getting a little too close to her, his nose wrinkled over the stench. Still lingering, her beauty was suppressed. He looked into her eyes to deliver a truth best-served cold. “Is there even a woman under all that grime?”
Emma’s eyes widened in shock. He was surprised when she blushed rather than strike out at him.
The bruiser chuckled. “I don’t know, but I intend to find out.”
Emma’s face went even redder.
“I’m just a friend of a friend,” he assured the beast.
“Be sure to keep it friendly.”
Ed shook his head. “Wouldn’t touch her with a ten-foot pole.”
This time, anger beat out embarrassment. Ed watched as her hands curled into tight fists at her side. Like the swelling of a volcano nearing eruption, her shoulders bunched. He knew he’d pushed too far, but he wanted to see what it would take to make the tomboy he’d heard so much about explode. He was surprised she hadn’t already lashed out.
The bruiser laughed and slapped her ass. “You don’t know what you’ll be missing.”
With that, he trudged back to the other side of the pool table, where his drunk friend waited for him. Emma glared at his retreating back. If she actually ended up going home with that loser, when he’d treated her as nothing more than a piece of meat, Ed would be surprised. But then again, Ed didn’t know Emma, and alcohol could make her choices unpredictable.
After the bruiser had left, her friends surrounded her. The guy she’d passed the pool cue to put a hand on the small of her back and whispered something in her ear. He kept his gaze glued to Ed, obviously not trusting the new interloper.
Although, her friend let that bruiser near her, he obviously cared about her well-being. She belonged with a guy like this, not some low-life trash, looking for a quick, easy lay.
Emma waved away her friend’s concern. “Oh, no. Trust me, you don’t have to worry about Ed. He’s a saint, don’t you know?”
Ed raised a brow at that odd descriptive.
He didn’t need to ask for clarification. Emma prattled on. “He’s Uncle Cain’s star soldier. Can do no wrong. He’s absolutely perfect in every way. Not only was he a great soldier, but he adjusted so perfectly once he came back.” She changed her tone then, trying her best to imitate Cain. “‘He’s got a great job. He owns his own house. Emma, you could learn a thing or two from him.’”
Pained, Ed briefly closed his eyes. Wonderful, just freakin’ wonderful. If Cain had been singing false praises about him, drawing comparisons between her struggles and what Cain viewed as Ed’s successes, then she’d never listen to a word he had to say. Instead, she’d be even more determined to discredit him. And when she found out what a fraud he was, she’d rub it in his face.
Trying to do damage control as best he could, Ed ignored Emma’s rant, focusing instead on her friends. “Hi, I’m Ed Moore. I used to serve with Emma’s uncle.”
The guy with the pool cue offered up his free hand. “I’m Liam. This is Nora and Sarah.”
Ed shook hands with each of them in turn. He noted none of them looked unkempt. Emma was the only ratty one in the bunch. He wondered what they thought of their friend’s recent descent into chaos. Maybe he could enlist their help. If Liam had any interest in Emma, as his earlier touchy-feely display hinted at, maybe together, they could convince her to consider a more wholesome relationship rather than drunken bar hookups.
“Is there a reason you’re here?” Liam asked.
“Cain was wondering if I might look in on Emma and mentioned sometimes she hangs out here.”
“He’s here to spy on me!” Emma nearly lunged toward Ed, but Liam held her back.
“Your uncle is worried about you. And after what I’ve seen tonight, I’m not one bit surprised.”
“Fuck you! You don’t know anything about me.”
Again, Liam held her back. Her girlfriends looked on with concern.
“You’re right, I don’t know you.” Ed lowered his voice so as not to be overheard by the gorilla and his cohort. “But I do know you’re making a mistake by going home with that one.” He nodded across the room. “I’m just trying to figure out the best way to talk you out of it or whether I should even waste my breath. Maybe I should just call Cain to come and drag your ass home.”
Ed hadn’t raised his voice at all, but Sarah took a step back. Emma, however, wasn’t at all intimidated. If anything, she grew more agitated. “What I do and who I do it with isn’t any of your business. We can’t all be saints like you. And if you even think about calling my uncle, you’d better know what you’re going to tell him when he shows up here and I’m long gone.”
“You’ll be here.” Ed wasn’t even sure he would call Cain, but if he decided that was the best way to proceed, he’d make sure she was waiting here when her uncle showed up.
Liam tried to play peacekeeper. “Look, I get that you’re trying to help, but we’ve got this under control.”
Ed hated getting involved in other people’s business. When he saw Emma headed into trouble tonight, he should have called Cain, but instead, he was in the thick of it. Ed motioned to Emma with his free hand. “This is what you call under control?”
“You know what? I’ve had it. I’m outta here.” Emma turned on her heel.
Liam grabbed her. “Emma, wait.”
“No.” Emma shoved her friend away. “You think you’re going to stand here and make excuses for me? You think I don’t hear you guys talking about me? Whispering about me? I’ve had enough.”
She stalked across the room to where she’d left her beer, which was unattended. Ed ground his teeth together when she lifted it to her lips and drained the bottle. What the hell was she thinking?
He was about to follow her and give her a lecture—since when did he lecture?—on the dangers of leaving a drink unattended in a bar when the bruiser joined her again. Too far away to hear their conversation over the noise of the billiards room, Ed was restrained to watching.
The bruiser said something and grabbed her arm.
With her brows pulled tight, she responded. The look on her face, combined with the anger she’d just shown, didn’t bode well for the bruiser. Anticipating a struggle, Ed started across the room.
Whatever she’d said to him, he didn’t like. His face hardened. He leaned closer and whispered something to her. Emma ripped her arm away and poked him in the belly. This time, Ed was close enough to hear the exchange. “Touch me again, and I’ll rip off those sweaty marbles you call balls and shove them down your throat.”
Hostile, graphic, and gross—but effective. The bruiser took a step back and fixed his irritated gaze on Ed. “This is your fault.”
After looking over her shoulder in the direction he pointed, she rolled her eyes. She obviously wasn’t pleased to see Ed so near at hand. Her friends were only steps behind him. Did she think they’d all just let her walk away?
“Oh please, he’s got nothing to do with it. I never planned to go home with you tonight. Are you kidding?” She gestured at the big lout, implying she was too good for him. “Yeah, right.”
Shamed in front of his friends and a room full of people, the bruiser didn’t back off. “Like you’re some special treat? You need to look in the mirror, babe. I figured you for an easy lay. I didn’t exactly have to beat back the competition, you know?”
Emma stared at the brute, undoubtedly running a slew of comebacks through her mind. Ed was shocked when she elbowed the bruiser out of the way and headed for the exit, his nasty laughter chasing her.
Ed didn’t bother giving the big man any more attention. Setting down his water, he followed, fast on her heels.
She pushed through the large Saturday night crush and out the door. Ed was only seconds behind her. Liam exited the building next, but the other two women were nowhere to be seen.
Briefly, Ed considered they may have gotten tangled up with Emma’s scorned lover.
He didn’t have much time to dwell on that. Emma was fast approaching a lifted 4X4 truck. She pulled a key out of her pocket, unlocked the vehicle, and started to climb in.
Ed’s brisk walk turned into a run as he closed the distance between them. He grabbed her from behind, stopping her progress, pulling her from the vehicle.
“Not happening!” Rarely did he yell, but she’d pushed him from mildly aggravated to full-out pissed.
With wild eyes, Emma shoved at him. “Why are you still here? Stop bothering me!”
“No way are you driving anywhere.”
“You going to stop me, Saint-boy?” She looked ready for a fight. Her fists were planted firmly on her hips, her knees were bent, and her shoulders had relaxed. She was half crouched as though ready to lunge at him.
“Keys, now!” He held out his hand. “There is no way I’m letting you drive after you’ve been drinking.”
She snorted.
Lightly panting, Liam jogged up. “What’s going on?”
“She’s not driving anywhere,” Ed insisted again. “She can sleep it off at my place.”
Emma cocked her head to the side. “Oh! The truth comes out. I guess Mr. Saint isn’t so perfect.”
Ed glared at her. “Trust me, this is not about getting you into bed. I stand by what I said earlier. But no way are you driving anywhere tonight. You drank three beers in the time I was watching you, and God only knows how many before that.”
“Okay, look,” Liam said, pushing between them. “Maybe you’re this really great guy like her uncle seems to think. Maybe you’re trying to do the right thing, but we don’t know you. We don’t even know if you are who you say you are. Emma isn’t going anywhere with you.”
Finally, one of them was starting to show some sense. “What are you proposing then? Because she’s had too much to be driving.”
“Agreed. One of us will take her home.”
Ed still had to be cautious. “How much have the rest of you had to drink?”
“Oh my God!” Emma shouted. “For fuck’s sake. Maybe, just maybe, we came with a plan, you know?” She glared at Ed. “Nora is sober. She’s driving us all home tonight.”
“Emma!” Nora and Sarah shouted from the other side of the parking lot. They’d just exited the bar. Ed supposed they were settling up the tab. Emma waved to them before they started across the tarmac.
“If Nora was going to drive, then how come you were crawling into the truck?”
“I wasn’t going to drive.” Emma thrust her key into Ed’s palm before climbing into the cab of her truck.
Despite her ratty appearance, Ed had to make a conscious effort to keep from staring at her ass. She might be grubby and in the midst of what appeared to be a weeklong drinking binge, but her revealing shorts displayed long, well-muscled legs and allowed for a glimpse of perfect half-moons beneath the frayed edges of her cut-offs. She twisted this way and that before hopping down.
“I was getting my purse, you ass.” With one hand, she presented said purse; the other, she held up and insisted, “Key?”
Ed dropped the key into her waiting hand. “I won’t apologize for trying to keep you safe.”
“I might not be absolutely perfect like you—” Ed rolled his eyes “—but I managed to keep my ass safe over there. I can damn well do it here, too.”
“You’re certainly proving yourself to be responsible and capable,” Ed snapped. Wonderful! Now, he was arguing with a drunk.
Her eyes narrowed again. “Not your problem, right? That’s what you said. So my behavior isn’t your concern.”
“Your uncle asked me to look in on you.”
“Great. Mission accomplished.”
“This isn’t what he meant.”
She shrugged. “You saw me. Seems good enough to me.”
Ed shut the truck door. “Okay, I’ll let him know how well you’re doing. That you’re out getting smashed, picking up random dudes for one-night stands, and driving around drunk. Does that about sum it up?”
Emma’s temper practically vibrated. Ed could see her shaking. “All of that is a lie!” She poked him in the chest. “I wasn’t going to drive, I wasn’t going home with that guy, and I’m just out on a Saturday night blowing off a little steam.”
As if she hadn’t spoken, Ed said, “I don’t think he’d be the least bit surprised if I told him that. Not after what you’ve already done.”
Emma growled.
Ed glared right back, deliberately challenging her. He needed her to know he wouldn’t let her get away with pulling any stunts. He had no qualms about calling her out.
But he’d wait to talk to Cain. Before he made any hasty decisions, he planned on seeing her again. He needed to know how often episodes like tonight happened before he figured out the best way to help her.
He glanced at her friends. “Which one of you is Nora?”
The petite blonde raised her hand.
“You haven’t been drinking?”
“Nope. DD’ing tonight.” She put a hand over her flat stomach. “And for the foreseeable future.”
Ed nodded his understanding before looking at Emma. She was still livid, appearing much like a heifer ready to charge.
Despite her anger and her drunk disposition, she still looked capable of doing physical damage. He had to give her credit for not only how she handled the bruiser, but despite how Ed pushed her, she still hadn’t lost her cool. Sure, she swore and yelled, acting like a rebellious teenager, but she hadn’t gotten violent with him.
So far.
He wanted to see what she looked like when she was put together. Surely, this sloppy mess was temporary. The most recent photo he’d seen was her military ID, clean-cut but reserved. Ed would guess that, at the best of times, reserved didn’t describe Emma.
When Ed was stationed at home, he’d joined his unit’s basketball team. Cain had been the team’s coach. They’d developed a mutual respect for one another, and often, Cain pulled strings to ensure Ed was under his command.
During those few years, Cain had bragged about his niece, occasionally showing pictures of Emma, but at the time, she’d been young—a pre-teen.
When Cain had visited Ed earlier in the week, the photo passed to Ed had been one of her all dressed up for prom. She was pretty in her dress but still young. In the recent photos—her prom pictures and her military ID—she was polished, as was the social expectation, but the photographs Ed remembered of her childhood showed someone different.
A young girl holding up the first pike she’d ever caught, a child dressed in a snowmobile suit with a helmet under her arm and a big grin on her face, a pre-teen in the early evening, roasting marshmallows over a fire, the sun setting in the background.
A smile lit up each picture. She’d been a happy, carefree child.
The woman standing before him was angry and resentful—damaged.
Ed glanced at each of her friends before settling his gaze on her. “Make sure she gets home all right. Call her uncle if you have to.”
Emma huffed over that.
His gaze moved over her. Open-toed sandals revealed dirty feet, her bare legs were scraped in a few places, her clothing wrinkled and draped in an unattractive manner, and her hair was more tangled than not. She reminded him of a wet cat in appearance and disposition.
Under his scrutiny, she shuffled her feet and seemed almost ashamed, but proving she had guts, she lifted her head, unwilling to back down under his stare.
“I’ll see you around, Emma.” There was no sense in wasting more time here tonight. Her friends would see she made it home safely. Later, he’d decide whether he should update Cain on Emma’s recent antics.
For his sanity, he knew it would be best to leave her alone, to forget about her.
Without looking back, Ed headed to his car, but he waited until the small group loaded into another vehicle across the parking lot. With Nora behind the wheel, the car started up, the lights came on, and slowly, it rolled away from the bar.
Watching them leave, Ed considered how badly he’d botched his only opportunity to make a good first impression.
She probably thought he was a bossy, condescending asshole who needed to mind his own business. Ed pulled out a pack of gum from the center console and, with a dissatisfied sigh, popped a stick of the mint-flavored goo into his mouth.
God, he missed cigarettes.
His friendship with Cain aside, Ed knew he wouldn’t be able to forget about her. He needed to know she’d be all right.
Maybe if he could help straighten her out, mend what was broken in her, even just a little, then perhaps there’d be hope for him.