“Semantics, son. Once special forces, always special forces—”
“We’d never call ourselves that.”
“What would you call it? The elite? The best of the best? The—”
“Dad.”
“Oh, I know! Coasties, right? I saw that on a TV show once and—”
Cam drew in a deep breath. “I’m going to make sure Piper gets home in one piece. Just stay out of trouble until I get back.”
With his free hand, his dad held up what appeared to be the Vulcan sign. “Scout’s honor.”
“I’m serious.”
“No shit. You always are.” Emmitt’s smile faded. “But I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the diabetes. I didn’t want to worry you.”
Cam pinched the bridge of his nose. For years he’d been in command of a team of Coast Guardsmen who followed his every order without question. There’d been very little personal life, and when there had been any time at all, he’d done his best to spend it with his brother and dad. But it’d been mostly just Rowan because his dad had been busy trying to stay afloat financially. This meant they weren’t as close as he’d like. Cam didn’t feel animosity or anger toward either of his parents. He thought they’d each done the best they could. But he and his dad were still unfamiliar with each other, and a little awkward.
Cam was here because he had a few weeks off, his first leave since Rowan’s funeral three months ago, and he had a mission, a personal one. He hadn’t been able to get to it yet, but now he had to add to that mission—take care of his dad. “Just tell me you’ll stay inside and safe until I get back.”
“No problem, as I’m going to bed. See you in the morning.” Emmitt turned back. “Oh, and one more thing. She’s good people.”
“Who?
“Piper. She’s had a really rough go of things, all of it unfair, and it’s been a burden that no young woman should have to bear.”
“What do you mean?”
Emmitt slowly shook his head. “It’s her story to tell. Or not tell.”
“Then why are you mentioning it?”
“Because you tend to run roughshod over people to get them to bend to your will. You knew how to handle your mother, and I’m grateful, but I’m still learning how to handle you.”
“I don’t need handling,” Cam said.
His dad smiled affectionately. “Maybe not, but by the looks of things, you’ve done nothing but irritate Piper. Thought you might want to change your tactic.”
“All I’m trying to do is make sure she gets home okay. End of story.”
With a smart-ass salute, his dad was gone.
Cam grabbed a light windbreaker from one of the hooks by the front door and the big flashlight from the bench. When he stepped outside, the storm immediately swallowed him up. He shielded his eyes from the driving rain and found Piper just on the other side of the rivulet.
Which had turned into a river.
She’d clearly jumped and fallen to her hands and knees, and didn’t appear to be moving. Cam took a running start and leapt across, landing at her side.
She startled and gasped as she fell away from him.
“Just me,” he said, crouching beside her, pulling off his hood so she could see his face. “You okay?”
“Oh, I’m just great,” she said, wet and muddy and pissed off.
He rose and helped her to her feet, slipping an arm around her to keep her steady. “Come on, let’s get you home.”
“I can walk.” She pulled free. “It’s just a storm. Go take care of your dad. Speaking of that, why have you never visited him since he moved here five years ago?”
“I have. Twice. Both visits were very brief. I’m always gone, it’s hard for me to get enough time to come all the way out west.”
“Well, you’re here now. So go back over there.”
“Soon as I see you inside,” he said. “It’s not safe out here.”
Planting her feet against the wind, she stared at him as if he’d lost his mind. In the glow of his flashlight, he could see the bright green eyes that had so charmed him in the bar were now flashing irritation. Only it was hard to take her seriously since she had mud on her cheek and nose.
“Maybe you don’t know what the definition of first responder is,” she said.
He felt his mouth twitch. “Actually, I’m quite familiar with the concept.”
“So you do realize that I’m usually the one out in this kind of stuff rescuing people, not the other way around.”
In his world, he was at the top of the food chain, his every command obeyed, his authority never questioned. So it took him a single surprised beat to realize she’d whirled on her heels and was moving away from him, calling out for someone.
“Who’s missing?” he asked.
“Sweet Cheeks.”
“Ah, thanks. Seems a little sudden, but I’m flattered.”
“Oh my God, not your ass, I’m talking about my stupid sister’s stupid cat. She loves a good storm, but I can hear her crying from somewhere.”
Cam stilled and listened. Past the wind, past the driving rain, he heard it too, a cat’s plaintive meow. Turning, he headed along the water’s edge and stopped at the base of a huge oak tree doing its best to stand strong against the heavy gusts.
Thanks to the beam from his flashlight, he could see the cat in the tree, about twenty feet up, huddled miserably against a branch, looking more like a soaked rat than a feline.
“Oh, for—” Piper had come up to his side and was now swearing rather impressively as she dropped her medical bag to the ground and reached for the trunk of the tree.
“Stop,” he said. “You can’t climb it, not in this lightning storm, not without risking your neck.”
“If Winnie finds out I killed her cat, I’m as good as dead anyway.”
“Stay,” he said, and with an inner sigh, started climbing the tree himself. It’d been a while since he’d done a rescue on land, even longer since the victim hadn’t been human.
“Just FYI,” Piper called up to him, “I’m only staying down here because there isn’t room for two of us up there, and not because you told me to stay like a dog!”
He kept climbing.
“And also, Sweet Cheeks isn’t exactly on the people train, so proceed with caution!” she yelled. “Or at least like you have a healthy fear of cats.”
“Fear isn’t a productive emotion.”
He was pretty sure she snorted at that, but he was serious. He climbed for what felt like forever, and when he got to damn near the top of the world, cat and man stared at each other grimly. “Let’s go,” he told her.
The cat just glared at him, tail swishing back and forth.
“Yeah, well, I’m not thrilled either, but see that woman down there scowling up at me like I’m a pain in her ass? That’s because I’m a pain in her ass. If I rescue you, maybe she’ll soften a little bit. So what do you say?”
The cat declined to answer, so he snatched her off the branch. To say she wasn’t pleased with this development was an understatement. She hissed and bit and scratched the shit out of him, nearly causing him to fall out of the tree twice. If his unit could see him now, they’d be rolling on the ground. It wasn’t often he got his ass kicked, especially by a ten-pound, soaking wet feline, but by the time he had them both out of the tree, she’d most definitely won the battle.