Falling for a Grumpy Hero Chapter 1
PROLOGUEFORDThe rhythmic thump-thump-thump of rotor blades from above signaled the arrival of our ride. I glanced up, squinting into the orange and crimson sky as the sun set behind the jagged Afghan mountains in the distance. Hand to my forehead, I shielded my eyes against the glare and watched for a moment as the chopper emerged through the thick cloud of dust in the air.
Heat shimmered off the tarmac it was aiming for, the thumping growing louder with every inch the helicopter descended. It blew up sand and grit in a stinging gust of wind as it touched down, but I didn’t flinch.
The only thing that might’ve worried me was getting some of that shit in my eyes right before a mission, but they were protected by my scratched ballistic lenses. I’d been here too long now to be bothered by a whirlwind of shrapnel-like grit blowing around. I was also long past the stab of fear that used to race through me when our transport arrived.
“God, I can’t wait to get out of here.” Luke, my best friend and fellow marine, adjusted the strap on his plate carrier and tossed me a grin, his teeth a striking white against his deeply tanned skin. “Only a few more weeks until we blow this popsicle stand. Can I get a hell yeah?”
“Nope. Can’t do it.” I double-checked my rifle before I glanced back at him, both of us standing under the mottled cover of a camouflage net. “Unlike the rest of you idiots, I’m not looking forward to returning to base. As far as I’m concerned, they can keep me here forever. What’s not to love?” I pumped my eyebrows at him and lifted my arms out to my sides to indicate our surroundings. “It’s always sunny in Afghanistan.”
“What?” Dappled shadows fell across his face as his head jerked back, his jaw slackening before his lips curved into a grin. “Oh, I get it. You’re messing with me.”
“I’m really not.” I glanced toward those mountaintops I’d woken up to for almost a year on this tour, unable to even imagine opening my eyes and seeing the ocean again. “The view is unparalleled, don’t you think?”
“Sure, if you’ve got a thing for deserts and death. Seriously, bro, are you feeling okay? Fever?”
I laughed. “I’m fine. Just happy exactly where I am, doing my job and serving my country while I’m at it. It seems more practical to enjoy where I’m at right now than to focus on what’s happening in a few weeks.”
“Practical schmactical.” He shook his head and pulled a soft, crinkled photograph out of his pocket. It was one of those passport-sized ones and I’d seen it many times before, but he showed it to me anyway. “As soon as my toes touch US soil, I’m asking her to marry me. I’ve got a ring and everything.”
I arched my eyebrows and smirked. “The only reason you want to get married is so that you can get out of the barracks and move into family housing.”
As I said it, my gaze dropped to the picture. Melissa, his high-school sweetheart, beamed at me from it, her eyes bright with happiness and her expression somehow coy and cute at the same time. I’d met her before we’d deployed. She was nice.
I wouldn’t marry her, but that didn’t mean much. I didn’t know if I’d ever want to marry anyone.
“Bullshit.” Luke laughed and snatched the photo back to slide it into the inner pocket of his shirt. It was always there, as close to his heart as he could carry her. “I want to marry her because I love her and because I’ve kept her waiting long enough.”
We headed over to go help the rest of our squad load up the remaining weapons and gear. “Mark my words, Ford. Eventually, some woman is going to sweep you off your ugly feet and you’ll be looking forward to getting back stateside too.”
I scoffed. “Lay off my feet.”
“Let’s go, boys!” Lieutenant Anderson shouted and Luke’s smile melted away.
The atmosphere between us all shifted instantly, the moment of departure having arrived. I looked at the guys standing in a loose semi-circle around me, giving them each a tight nod in turn. They did the same to me and to each other.
This was far from our first rodeo, but in these moments right before we headed out, the silence that fell between us was always heavy with the weight of the unknown. None of us knew whether the brother standing next to us now would be there when we got back. None of us knew if we’d be coming back in one piece or even coming back at all.
My jaw clenched with the intensity of it as we fell into tight formation and jogged toward the helicopter. I might not feel that fear anymore, not as deeply as I used to, anyway, but my senses always went on full alert at this point, my heart beating double time and the world around me in much sharper focus.
When we reached the chopper, the loadmaster waved us aboard with gloved hands, shouting above the ever-present thumping of those rotors. I swore, years from now when I was old and gray, I would still hear that thumping in my dreams. “Go, go, go!”
Our boots hit the metal of the steel ramp and my pulse spiked like it was ticking toward a countdown. I just didn’t know what it was counting down to, hence the weight of that uncertainty. In theory, we were only doing recon today, not going into battle or setting down into fire, but the reality was that every mission was a battle of some sort and the possibility of getting trapped under fire lurked around every corner.
I took my seat on the bench along the wall and strapped in, inhaling the familiar scent of stale sweat, gun oil, and scorched dust. It created a cocktail of adrenaline and duty that I found comforting—especially while I was in the presence of the low thrum of nerves that we were all trying to ignore.
There were no more jokes now, though. No chatter and no banter. Our game faces were on, all eyes forward as the ramp hissed and started lifting, sealing us into the beast we’d be flying in today. Possibly dying in today.
I shut my eyes and let my head drop back against the metal. The ground vibrated under my feet, the roar of the engines near deafening as the pilot prepared for takeoff. The familiar sounds, smells, and sensations lulled me into what I knew was a false sense of security, but I let it happen and my mind drifted toward Luke’s excitement to go home.
Most of the guys on this chopper were counting down the days. Some, like Luke, were eager to get back because they had big plans. Proposing. Taking a trip. The lieutenant’s grandma was sick and he was hoping to get to her in time to say goodbye. Others just wanted to get home to make love to their wives, or kiss their kids goodnight, or make it to a big music festival coming up.
For me, this was what I’d been looking forward to. Getting to be here. Becoming a marine. Serving my country. Once I’d outgrown the phase of wanting to be a race car driver, this was all I’d ever wanted to do.
And now that I was doing it? Fuck, yeah, it’d been worth all the work I’d put in. I’d stay forever if they’d let me.
I’d just never really taken into consideration that deployments came to an end and that most people built lives for themselves at home to go back to. Suppose I can request an extension. Maybe look into reassignment options.
As we lifted into the sky, the crimson wash of those last rays of sunshine fell across the cabin, illuminating the dust everywhere, drifting in the air, a fine carpet of it on the floor, and even on us. It was strangely beautiful sometimes, this sandy, dusty landscape that had become our temporary home. For a moment, it even seemed almost peaceful, but that didn’t last long.
Through the window on the opposite side of the cabin, I watched the vast nothingness below as darkness fell, the only sound that incessant thumping of the rotor blades and the roar of the air as we sliced through it. Maybe I should take leave when we get back. Go to Vermont for a few days and see my folks. They’d like that.
During our flight, my weapon was cradled, my head on a swivel to check on my brothers and to keep an eye outside for signs of anything untoward, but it was too dark to see much. I leaned back, realizing that the only useful thing I could do right now was to calmly ride this out.
We’d be starting our descent any second now, and when that happened, my head would be back in the game, but I let my mind wander in the meantime. It wandered all the way back home, mostly to the fact that I had nothing waiting for me there.
My folks, sure, but I hadn’t even told them I was coming. The only thing I was really looking forward to was burying myself balls deep in a base bunny or two. That was my plan as soon as my toes hit US soil. Luke could go down on one knee, but I’d be getting some girl down on both of hers. A few days of debauchery were probably exactly what the doctor would order once we got there.
After that, I guess I’ll figure it out.
Shaking myself out of my thoughts when I felt the helicopter slowly starting to descend, I turned back to the window and kept my eyes peeled, but there was nothing but utter and complete blackness out there. No one else seemed to spot anything either, but we were all alert again, spines rigid as we mentally prepared to get our boots back on the ground.
Suddenly, the helicopter banked sharply and my rifle smacked into my knee with the force of the maneuver. Then all hell broke loose as someone yelled, “We’re taking fire!”
Crack-crack-crack. It happened so fast that it was completely disorienting, the loud metallic pops that hit the frame instantly disrupting the monotonous drone of the vibration under my feet. Crack-crack-crack.
I expected it to end, but it didn’t. I ducked instinctively, even though I knew the bullets wouldn’t be kind enough to miss my head just because it was few inches lower. The acrid scent of something burning filled my nostrils on my next inhale and that was what finally made it feel real.
That smell was burning fuel or maybe hydraulic fluid. Maybe metal. But it wasn’t a scent that belonged here. It wasn’t part of that familiar cocktail. We were taking enemy fire and we were being battered by it. The pilot’s attempts at evading the hit when he’d banked hadn’t worked.
Weapons clattered as we braced ourselves for impact. Eyes wide, my breathing was shallow, my heart pounding so hard that it hurt. Faint sounds of prayer hit my ears, but I didn’t know who it was coming from.
I just knew my own response was closer to the never-ending stream of cuss words being shouted by somebody else on my other side. The pilot banked hard again and I was thrown sideways this time, straining against my harness before I grabbed onto some webbing and held on.
Sparks started flying when the rounds pierced the cabin. I couldn’t process it at first when I saw red mist.
It was complete chaos, the helicopter spinning out of control. I looked around wildly until my gaze locked on Luke’s wide green eyes. He grabbed my arm, but there was nothing either of us could do to help the other.
We were going down. Every second stretched into infinity, interspersed only by shouts, panic, and fear, and then it happened. The impact was jarring, spine-rattling and fiery, but only for a fraction of a second before everything faded to black.
CHAPTER ONELILA
I had been working at Callahan Engineering for exactly a week today and I felt like I was finally getting into the swing of things. Although the offices that housed the firm were pretty sterile and gray without much personality, the people themselves were kind and friendly, and Virginia Beach, where it was located, was awesome.
As a recent transplant, I was still getting used to finding my way around, but I loved the warm sunshine on my neck as I pedaled my bike to work along the famous, three-mile boardwalk. The view I had on my commute wasn’t half bad, with white, sandy beaches and the crystalline waters of the Atlantic stretching out one side and the architecture of Oceanfront to admire on the other.
Bright blue skies dotted with puffy white clouds stretched out seemingly endlessly above and the air here was clear and crisp. It was very different from New York City, which was where I’d lived for the last few years.
All things considered, life could most definitely be worse. I smiled as I slowed to a stop when I reached our building, a bustling, busy space we shared with at least four other companies. Employees were racing in and out, lifting key cards on lanyards around their necks to gain access to the elevators once they got inside.
I pushed my bicycle into a slot on the bike rack and fished my own key card out of my purse, quickly slipping it over my head. When that was done, I put my purse in the basket of my bike to rummage through it for my lock. My fingers finally grazed cool metal and I pulled out my chain, locking up my only mode of transportation in this city before I hurried to the elevator.
The only person I hadn’t met yet at my new job was my boss, Mr. Callahan, but he was supposedly meant to be coming back to the office today and that meant that this was the one day I absolutely could not be late. Racing past the restaurant and coffee shop in the lobby, I swiped my key card across the reader, a little too pleased when the green light flashed and the soft beep rang out that indicated I could now proceed into the building.
It’s the little things in life, right? Like that small signal that confirms the new job you love is real.
Another smile crept up on my lips and I was so distracted that I bumped into a man already waiting in the elevator. I cringed and immediately refocused, looking up, up, and up a little more before I finally found myself looking at his eyes.
Correction: his beautiful eyes. They were a gorgeous, deep, stormy blue that seemed to hold the entire universe in them. His gaze was intense, but stony—devoid of any expression other than mild annoyance.
With short, dark brown hair and a frame that seemed really darn muscular under his suit, the guy was exceedingly handsome, but clearly pretty grumpy. My eyes widened and I immediately started stammering out an apology that had now already taken me several awkward seconds to remember I’d been about to make. “I’m, uh, I’m so sorry I bumped into you. I didn’t see you there.”
The man grunted and glanced down at me before looking back at his phone, clutching a coffee in his other hand. Finally realizing he wasn’t going to respond, I turned to face the front of the elevator like a normal person, but my heart was thrumming like a hummingbird about to take flight after staring into those eyes, and it made me feel like I had to keep talking.
“How’s your day going? I hope I didn’t hurt you when I bumped into you. I don’t know where my head was at. I just—” My eyelids slammed shut when I realized I’d forgotten my purse in the basket. “Crap. I need to get back outside. I’m so sorry. Again.”
Surging forward, I hit the “open doors” button just as they started closing and they reopened immediately instead of heading up to his floor. On my way out of the elevator, I glanced back at him, tall, dark, and furious as he glared at me.
My cheeks exploded with heat, but I jumped out and rushed back to my bicycle, cursing myself for being so careless. Mercifully, however, my little brown purse was still sitting exactly where I’d left it and I grinned, grabbing it before heading back inside.
By the time I got back to the elevator, it was long gone. Obviously. I hit the call button and waited, but my nerves were mounting as I glanced at my watch, the seconds racing by much too fast without the doors opening again.
If my boss was already up there, I was about to make a really bad first impression and I could not afford for that to happen. An agonizingly slow elevator ride later, I made it to the fourth floor, flustered beyond belief as I strode into Callahan Engineering, widely known as CE. I greeted the receptionist on my way in, but mostly kept my head down as I raced to my snug little office.
Normally, I had this little corner of the place to myself. I’d spent the last week training on scheduling software and getting a feel for the place, but today, I noticed the door to the corner office, Mr. Callahan’s office, was open. It was the door directly beside my own, but I was his assistant, so that made sense.
He hadn’t left it wide open, as if to invite people in, but it was ajar and that was more open than I’d seen it until now. Nerves and excitement raced through me. I was finally going to get to meet the man himself—I just had to hope he didn’t mind that I was a couple minutes late.
Shoving aside the nerves about that since there was nothing I could do to change it now, I went to drop my things in my office. Mr. Callahan was one of the big reasons I’d taken this job. Back in New York, I’d read about him in an architecture magazine while I’d still been pretending that working at an art gallery was my dream and thinking that I would spending the rest of my life with my ex.
Ford Callahan was a brilliant structural engineer who specialized in old homes of the south. He restored them to their former glory, and since those homes happened to be my style, just being here and getting to be a part of bringing them back to life was a dream come true.
Maybe someday, I’d be able to play a bigger role in the renovations than just assisting the man who engineered them, but for now, I was just so happy to be here that I could barely contain myself.
Ever since I’d first seen my office space, I’d known I had to do something to brighten it up a bit and I’d been adding little pops of color to break the sterile grayness of it all. As I set my things down, I used the sight of my yellow faux flowers and the bedazzled photo frame on my desk to ground myself in the moment.
Today was the day that my work really began, the day on which I would meet the man I was hoping would eventually help me build my career. I smoothed out my boldly patterned purple and turquoise maxi-dress and adjusted the beads around my neck. Then I drew in a deep breath and went to introduce myself.
Deciding that it was probably better to knock even though it was open a crack, I lifted my fist and gently rapped it against the wood. A gruff voice on the other side barked a response immediately. “Yep. Come in.”
“Good morning, Mr. Callahan. It’s so nice to finally meet you. I’m Lila Winslow, your new assistant,” I burst into my introductions before realizing that the grumpy hot guy from the elevator was now staring at me from across an extremely neat desk with his dark brows raised in question.
I swallowed hard, but it was too late to start over, so I kept going, hoping to win him over with my cheerful charm. “Again, I apologize for what happened in the elevator. I didn’t know that you were, you know, well, you, and I’m sorry.”
He seemed to be a man of few words, just staring at me as I rambled on. “I’m really looking forward to working with you. You’re a genius and I love your work.”
Finally, he made a sound, but it was a weird one considering the circumstances. A dark, low chuckle rumbled out of him and he murmured, “You don’t know who I am at all. Shut the door on your way out.”
“I, uh, sure? I mean, yes. Sure. Absolutely, sir. Let me know if there’s anything you need. Anything at all. I’m at your service.”
My cheeks burst into flames. For the love of... stop propositioning the man and get out of his office.
I ended my awkward rambling with a swift nod, spinning around and racing out—and forgetting to shut his door behind me. Quickly doubling back, I went and pulled it all the way closed. Then I hurried back to my office and slumped down behind my desk.
My God, what a disaster. Okay, and honestly, what a disappointment too. Why was he so mean? Is it because of the elevator or is he just always such a sourpuss?
Confused and feeling a bit beaten down, I wondered for the first time if it’d been a mistake coming to Virginia Beach. I’d done it on a whim, following my heart and a new dream to the art institute here.
Landing a job as the Ford Callahan’s assistant had seemed like the cherry on top, a sign from above that I was doing the right thing—and a way to earn a living in a line of work adjacent to interior design, which was what I was going to school for.
Now, however, I was wondering if I’d gotten him all wrong. Maybe he wasn’t some sort of visionary genius who had chosen to apply his skills and talent to the homes of yesteryear because he appreciated what was truly beautiful and important in this world. Perhaps he was just an asshole stuck in the past.
I switched on my computer, knowing I had to get to work irrespective of whether I’d been wrong. I opened my calendar and saw it was marked with someone’s birthday today. Learning this information brought a smile to my lips. I’m going to get to decorate the break room and get a cake during my lunch hour.
Maybe Ford Callahan was an asshole, but I wasn’t, and getting to make someone’s day special was enough to make me feel better. I could work for a grump. As long as it meant I still got to meet some of the other people he worked with and get to know them to build my own network. As an investment in my future, I could even deal with the poor pay.
The benefits were great and at least, as an assistant, I would also hopefully to be able to sprinkle a little happiness and color into things around here. Starting today—with a cheerfully decorated break room and a delicious birthday cake.
