A Marriage for the Marine: A Fuller Family Novel (Brush Creek Brides Book 7) by Liz Isaacson

Author:Liz Isaacson [Isaacson, Liz]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: AEJ Creative Works
Published: 2018-06-11T16:00:00+00:00

The next morning, he showed up at the police station forty minutes before his shift was supposed to start. He’d been assigned to come in thirty minutes early to get his uniform and badge, but he hadn’t been able to sleep past three that morning. He hadn’t been able to eat, not even the last piece of cake Wren had brought over on Friday night.

Wren was everywhere in his life, and Tate had spent a lot of time stewing about that too. Her house had been spotless when she’d finally allowed him in. The couches were leather, the appliances that new black stainless steel that Tate hadn’t even seen in someone’s home yet. She had hardwood in that tiny cottage, and frilly curtains, and granite countertops.

So while the house was small, it certainly had a huge budget for the interior. He’d probably spent a good hour sharing the couch with Sully while he thought if he was the right match for Wren. He’d prayed to know, but God hadn’t indicated anything either way.

A vein of exhaustion from all the restless hours and consuming thoughts hit him. He shook them again, needing his utmost focus for this morning. Because just like he hadn’t dated a woman in a while, he hadn’t started a new job in longer. Jitters ran through his bloodstream, and no amount of deep breathing exercises helped calm him.

“Hey, you must be Officer Benson.”

He’d never been called an officer, and he wasn’t entirely sure if he was an officer now or not, but he just nodded and smiled. “I’m Tate, yes.”

“I’m Jordan Harn.” He grinned and extended his hand for Tate to shake. “I’m going to show you around, get your uniform, and deliver you to the Chief.”

“Sounds great.” Relief ran through him that Jordan was close to his age, with regular brown hair and eyes undimmed by too much hardship. He seemed normal, and Tate hadn’t been expecting normal. Why, he wasn’t sure. Maybe because every Marine he met had something horrible hidden behind their eyes. Something they’d seen in the line of duty that had changed them.

Tate reminded himself that this was Brush Creek, Utah, and the biggest scandal he’d come across in the histories he’d been reading late at night was how the neighboring town had snuck into the livestock pen at the high school and stolen the Brush Creek Bulls’ mascot the night before the big rivalry game.

“Where’d you come from?” Jordan asked as he led Tate down a hall and into a supply room. “You look like a thirty-four, yeah?” He pulled a few pairs of pants down without waiting for Tate to confirm.

“My last assignment was in Japan,” he said.

Jordan paused and looked at him. “You were a police officer in Japan?”

“Marine,” Tate said. “I was stationed at Camp Kinser there.” He’d enjoyed his time on the island of Okinawa, mostly because there were no combat experiences to be had. Plenty of amenities, including the Internet. Jeremiah had been sent to Hawaii for drills, and the bad jokes intensified via email.

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