“Good.” He didn’t particularly enjoy serving as a dating service hub for his PA. That was just what he needed: one more happily, annoyingly in-love person in his orbit.
Isa rose from her chair and snatched his coffee mug. “If we’re done here, I’m calling it a day. You’ll be glad to know my disruptive shoes and I can see ourselves out.”
“Very funny.”
She winked, one glittering eye closing and reopening as that distracting smile remained. He had the sudden longing for Melanie and her blatant lack of sex appeal. Isabella Sawyer was a lot to deal with for a man who didn’t want to deal with anyone.
Fist wrapped tightly around his pen, he listened as her shoes swept the most gorgeous woman he’d ever laid eyes on out of his warehouse.
“Stubborn,” he grumbled, unsure if he was talking about himself or her. It hadn’t taken long for her to ensconce herself into his work life.
A few minutes later, his cell phone rang.
“Zach,” Eli answered. Zachary Ferguson was a few years younger than him and a talented builder. He’d worked with Crane Hotels in the past and Eli was hoping he could help him out with a project.
“I’m outside. Can’t get in.” Zach’s Southern accent sounded foreign in this city.
Right. The gate.
Eli followed the path Isabella took, her faint spicy scent leading him like a bloodhound. “Hang on. I’ll be down in a second.”
When he reached the elevator, Zach interrupted him.
“Wait. We’re good. Some woman in a white car just…damn.”
The expletive left on an appreciative breath, and Eli could guess why. He ground his molars together and envisioned Isa flashing Zach a warm smile, her hooded, black-lashed eyes blinking as she pulled past.
“Thanks, love,” Zach called, and it wasn’t hard to figure he wasn’t addressing Eli. “Day-um.”
She’d been looking for an eligible bachelor this afternoon and had come up empty-handed. Eli didn’t want her to consider Zach, for God’s sake. Just picturing her with another guy brought out a territorial side of him he hadn’t exercised in too long.
“Come on up,” Eli said, his voice full of gravel.
He punched the END button on his phone and waited by the elevator, arms crossed. When the doors opened and Zach appeared, he looked as dazed as if Cupid had shot him in the forehead.
“Who was that?” Zach asked with a crooked smile.
“My assistant. She’s taken,” Eli tacked on, annoyed at the interest in Zach’s expression.
“Mercy. I guess.” Zach’s accent was thicker than before.
It might be shocking to learn that Isa was single if Eli didn’t know her. Few men enjoyed being handed their own balls by a woman.
Sure, keep telling yourself that as you cordon her off from available men.
“Good to see you again.” With a quick raise of his eyebrows, Zach let the topic drop. He extended a hand and Eli accepted it.
Zach and Eli had worked together on a new build during one of Eli’s stints home from the military. They knew each other. He’d worked with Crane Hotels in other facets as well, so it came as no surprise when Zach didn’t react to the sight of Eli’s bare legs poking out of from beneath a long pair of cargo shorts. No doubt Zach had heard about the injury.
Eli cleared his throat. Seeing someone for the first time since it happened was always the hardest part. They either reacted apologetically, awkward, or casual. He’d heard everything from “Thank you for your service” to “Tough break, buddy.”
He didn’t have a preference of reaction, save for he’d rather not have one at all.
“I’m sorry for…” Zach gestured.
Eli threw a hand to end the awkward pause. “Yeah, thanks. Beer?”
“Sure.”
There. They were through that.
Beer bottles uncapped, Eli handed over Zach’s. “Nickel tour?”
“Hit me,” Zach said, taking a swig.
Eli showed him around the warehouse. When he reached the front room again, he said, “Home gym equipped with rehabilitation equipment. You may have noticed I don’t have to worry about widening the doorways since I’m not in a wheelchair, but if I did, I only have a few. The bedroom”—he pointed to the end of the hallway—“office and bathrooms. Other than that, I have no problem getting around in here. Some soldiers aren’t as fortunate as I am.”
Zach’s gaze meandered down Eli’s prosthetic leg like he was wondering how any man could consider himself fortunate after losing a part of his person.
The answer was easy.
“Like the two men who died from the grenade that blew my leg off,” Eli said, his casual demeanor doing nothing to stop the flood of acid from pooling in his stomach.
Christopher. That stupid bastard. Two kids, a wife, and he was just twenty-five. Threw himself on the grenade at the same time Benji shoved Eli to the ground.
Eli swallowed down the bitter-as-vinegar memory before he continued.
“Injured men and women come home from the military to apartments and homes with narrow hallways, doorways, countertops that are too tall, and various other obstacles that make it difficult to feel like you’ll ever return to normal.”
But there wasn’t a “normal,” only the new normal. New normal was wily. Slippery. Harder to get a handle on than he ever would have dreamed. After spending time trying to relearn the basics and realign himself into his previous life, he’d accepted that there was no alignment possible. He’d simply have to wedge himself into a new life. One that was a shadow of his old one.
On good days it left him feeling bitter. On bad days…well, he didn’t dwell on what the bad days did to him.
Zach’s wheels were turning. Eli could tell by the way the guy’s eyes narrowed in thought. Zach walked through the gym equipment lined along the wall and pointed to the upstairs loft.
“Don’t get a lot of use out of that area, I’m guessing?”
“No.” Eli used to have his bedroom up there, near the exit to the rooftop. He used to sit outside and take in the city. It was the perfect ending to an evening. Stars, tall buildings, and a cold beer. He hadn’t been up there since he’d returned home permanently.
Where he’d tackled every physical barrier with fervor, the metal staircase and railings were a no-go zone. They used to be his favorite part of the warehouse, but now they represented loss. No longer did he wake in the morning to take in the entire apartment spread out below or roll over with a girl in his arms and offer to get her morning coffee. No reason to go up there now.
That memory stung the way memories of Crystal always did. His relationship with her was the last one he’d had before he shipped out. She’d been upset that he was rarely home and said she was moving out. He’d been angry but mostly hurt. When he returned home injured, he’d called her to see if what they’d had was beyond repair. She’d e-mailed him back rather than called, writing that she’d heard about his injuries and while she was sorry, she hadn’t signed up for a life of complications.
Being abandoned twice by her had stung like a bitch.
“What do you need from me?” Zach, beer in hand, sat on the weight bench, his fit form suggesting he wasn’t a stranger to the equipment.