Wildest Dream (Teach Me Book 1) Read online

  “The story of when we got ambushed, hit by IEDs and I lost two of my guys out there on the desert floor. I came away with this,” he gestured, again, to the scars. “Mikey and Nash . . .” He trailed off, his throat working. “Mikey got hit and died instantly but Nash . . .” Mac shook his head, his throat tight. “He died right there next to me.

  “Nash had been one of the funniest guys I’ve ever known, always making things more upbeat when all of us were tired of being in that damn sandbox from hell. We were lying there on the ground, both of us bleeding all over the place.

  “Nash had asked me how bad his wounds were and I knew he was losing blood faster than I could help to stop it. Hell, I could barely stop my own bleeding. I remember looking down to see a huge piece of metal stuck in my chest because the blast from the IED had blown my helmet off and my vest had been mangled.” He paused, taking a breath.

  “I looked up to that starless sky and thought that was it. That was the end of me. I don’t remember much past that point, but they’d gotten the medivac for us and they managed to get Nash’s heart to start up again in the helicopter, but only briefly. They pronounced him while we were in the air.

  “I did everything I could think of to save my friend and I failed.” Mac looked down at her, Raine’s beautiful green eyes glistening with unshed tears.

  “I remember waking up in the hospital and when everything came back to me, for a moment I truly wished I had died right there with them . . .” He trailed off, his voice breaking. “With my brothers.”

  RAINE CLOSED THE distance to embrace Mac, wrapping her arms around him. He tipped his head down to press a kiss to her damp hair, and she leaned her cheek against his chest, inhaling the scent of the beach mingling with his own.

  In the security of her arms, he continued to talk softly. “I grew up being tossed around from one foster home to the next, no one really caring about a lonely kid who had been thrown away by his parents because they were too concerned with where they were going to score another hit of whatever drug they could afford.

  “The foster homes I was in were . . . tough. These people cared only about getting the extra money allotted to them for taking me in. There wasn’t much of anything in those homes, let alone love. Sometimes, I thought maybe it would’ve been better if I hadn’t been taken away from my parents because at least, for the most part, no one bothered me and I had my own room.

  “Until I really learned to fend for myself, I got kicked around and beat up by the other kids in the homes because I was the “smart kid.” I made sure I was getting good grades and, luckily, a few teachers at school had taken an interest in me. They helped me take a bunch of AP courses that would allow me to get ahead of the game when I got to college. And I was determined to go. I graduated at sixteen and entered college shortly after, getting enough grants and living on campus at USF. That’s when things picked up for me. I excelled and graduated by the time I was nineteen.”

  “Wow, Mac,” Raine breathed. “That’s seriously amazing.” She drew away to look up at him, admiration shining in her eyes. “You’re amazing.”

  He shrugged. “It was a start. I knew I wanted to teach. To give back like those teachers did for me.”

  He chuckled softly. “Until one day, I saw a documentary about becoming a Navy SEAL. And I thought, like an idiot, Hey, I can do that.” He let out a deprecating laugh and shook his head at the memory. “I had no idea what the hell I was getting myself into. It was both the hardest and best thing I’ve ever done in my life. I ended up with the closest thing to brothers I’d ever had.

  “But, I realized through all of that, I just . . . don’t have what it takes for real relationships, Raine. I grew up without love and have lived my whole life without it. No role models for it. It’s safe to say I’d fuck it up royally and end up hurting a really good person in the process.

  “Every time I’ve let myself get attached to someone, they’d either let me down, hurt me -and that’s putting it lightly in most cases- or they ended up . . . dying.” Mac’s voice came out strained.

  They both stayed silent for a long moment.

  Finally, Mac blew out a long breath. “I think we’re dry by now,” he looked down at her with a tight smile.

  Raine didn’t move but looked up at him, raising her left arm to show him the scar beneath it, on the side of her breast.

  “This is mine and while I know it’s not at all the same as your scars, I feel it tells the story of what I’ve overcome.”

  Lowering her arm, she gently traced the scars on his chest. “Just like these tell of how much you’ve overcome, Mac.”

  Then, she raised up and pressed her lips to his. “Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me that,” she whispered. She wrapped a towel around her and walked out of the shower.

  The warmth she felt from that friendly, sweet kiss and the stories he confided in her, lingered in her heart.

  She felt like Mac truly underestimated himself. He could love. He just had to find the person who would treat his heart like the treasure it was.

  She ignored the voice that said, Maybe that person is you.

  LATER THAT EVENING, Raine was relieved to walk inside and see her friends at their usual table, song books laid out amongst them. Everyone was paging through them, writing down the songs they were wanting to sing.

  After Mac had confided in her earlier today, she had been trying to shake off the melancholy. But, aside from the lingering sadness, she was trying to shake off the shock of the lingering electricity from when their lips had met. From a kiss she hadn’t meant anything more by, aside from comfort.

  Having Mac tell her everything, all the heartbreak he’d experienced, made her appreciate how far he had come. Although, it still saddened her to know his view on relationships.

  She turned to Laney. “Can you hand me one of the papers, please?” Her friend handed her four of them with a knowing glance.

  She leaned in closer to Raine. “You okay?”

  “I’m good, I promise,” Raine replied. She, Laney and Tate had talked earlier about everything that had happened with Ben and about the meeting with Mr. Pratt.

  “Then this calls for a real celebration! I’m going to get some shots.” Laney took off for the bar.

  “Hey, Raine! You singing ‘Strokin’ tonight?” Lawson asked as he playfully stroked the curls atop his head.

  Laughing, she nodded. “Any requests?”

  Stroking his beard, he thought for a moment. “How about a rap song?”

  Scrunching her brows together, Raine asked, “Like?”

  “Some 50 cent?” Then, he slapped the table in excitement as if having had a revelation. “Or ‘Let Me Clear My Throat’?”

  Trading a look with Tate for a moment, they both shrugged.

  Back to Lawson, she nodded. “Not bad suggestions. Both sound fun.” She thumbed through the pages of one of the song books when someone placed a drink on the table in front of her. It was her usual vanilla vodka and coke with two cherries. Looking up, she saw Mac as he was sliding into the seat beside her with his own drink, the usual sweet tea the bartenders kept beneath the bar for him when he was designated driver.

  “Thanks,” she said before returning to the book in front of her, writing the song choices and their corresponding number codes down on her papers. The karaoke DJ, Dean, announced the first person performing for the night. It wasn’t a surprise to hear Lawson’s name. Nor was it a surprise to learn which song he had chosen.

  The first few bars of Bloodhound Gang’s ‘Bad Touch’ had them all in fits of laughter and she, Laney, and Tate were doubled over when he got to the chorus that spoke of doing it like animals and punctuated this with hip thrusts.

  “That man has no shame whatsoever,” Mac declared, shaking his head with a laugh.

  “True statement.” Laney raised her beer to toast. “I’ll drink to that.”

  “Here, here!” Raine lifted her glass to clink it against Laney’s.

  It was sti
ll early and it seemed as if they were the main ones putting in their requests to sing, but when Raine’s name was announced as the next person up, her head jerked up in surprise. She was still filling out her requests and hadn’t submitted any to Dean yet. She looked around suspiciously at her friends, narrowing her gaze on Mac. He was sitting there, attempting to look innocent, but failing as the corners of his mouth kept twitching in effort to restrain a grin.

  Pointing at him, her eyes squinty, she warned him, “You’re in big trouble, buddy.”

  Raine walked up to the stage and accepted the microphone from Dean, trying to prep herself for what was sure to be an utterly inappropriate song choice. As soon as she saw the name of the song on the screen of the monitor in front of her, she nearly choked.

  Shiiiit.

  It was Juvenile’s ‘Slow Motion.’

  Well. There was only one way to handle this one. She had to own this song.

  Raine put her all into the explicit song, dancing to it as if she were the one who chose to sing this instead of it being one of her friends who had chosen it.

  Oh, payback was a bitch. And she’d get Mac back. No doubt about it.

  Game on.

  HE HAD ROYALLY fucked up.

  The song he had chosen for Raine was meant to be fun in a very awkward sort of way.

  It was not, however, meant to attract what seemed to be a swarm of people -mostly guys- to the karaoke bar to watch his friend.

  His friend who, of course, was rocking this extremely explicit song he had chosen. Her dancing to the song as she sang was the icing on the cake. The confidence she had and carefree way she danced along to the song made her all the more striking.

  That damn dress certainly didn’t hurt either. When he saw her walk toward his truck when he had picked her up tonight, he had nearly forgotten to breathe. And now that she had those heels on, making her toned legs look even more incred-

  “You chose this song, so quit giving her a death glare,” Laney interrupted his thoughts.

  Mac turned his gaze to her before letting it return to Raine on stage, who was wrapping up the song.

  “Just wasn’t quite expecting the fan club, that’s all.”

  Laney looked at him quizzically for a moment. Then, a knowing expression came over her face. “Ah, I see.”

  Cutting her a quick look, he shook his head, not meeting her eyes as he watched Raine finish singing and head back to the table. “Nothing to see, Laney.”

  The weight of her stare finally made him give in and turn back to see her giving him a dubious look. Holding her gaze, he did his best to keep his expression blank. Sternly, he repeated, “Nothing to see, Laney.”

  She continued to hold his stare a moment longer before shrugging her shoulders and tossing him a “Whatever” before turning her attention to a few feet away from their table.

  He followed her gaze to find Raine had been stopped by two of the guys who had been admiring her performance. Mac could feel his jaw clench and had to resist the urge to shove an arm in between Raine and the shorter guy who was standing a bit too close to her for his liking.

  Laney’s hand on his forearm startled him out of his thoughts. Turning to her, she merely looked down meaningfully at his clenched fists on the table.

  She leaned in and whispered in his ear, “Nothing, my ass.”

  Laney stood and walked over to Raine, seeming to intervene and manage to steal her away from her new admirers. Mac watched as the two women returned to the table. Raine looked at him, proud smile on her face, and taunted him. “You just wait, Mac. It’s go-time, now, buddy.”

  That’s what he was afraid of.

  MAC WALKED UP to the karaoke stage when his name was called, knowing this was going to be a shit show. By the way Dean had been snickering as he announced Mac’s turn at the mike, he had a bad feeling Raine had truly done him in.

  When the monitor flashed with the song title, he nearly groaned out loud.

  ‘Blank Space’ by Taylor Swift.

  Well played, Raine.

  Well, here went nothing. Time to channel his inner Tay-Tay.

  Mentally, he slapped himself for even thinking that. And just how the hell did he even know her nickname?

  He steeled himself, grabbed the microphone with fierceness, and threw himself into the song.

  God help him if any video proof turned up of this.

  OH, MY.

  Raine wasn’t sure if she should laugh at the lyrics coming from Mac’s lips or simply be jealous of the way he appeared to be getting into it, almost as if he were actually feeling the song’s lyrics.

  She swore that the women and men around them had halted in mid-conversation just to watch this tall, muscular guy sing a Taylor Swift song on stage. His hand movements and facial expressions to go along with the song were hilariously over exaggerated but fitting.

  Sure, he oversang some of the chorus and he was off tune, but one had to admire a man who really got into singing this song with such . . . enthusiasm? Passion?

  She turned to see Laney staring at Mac with a mixture of horror and awe. Raine threw her head back in a laugh. Shaking her head, still chuckling, she watched as Mac finished up the song, making a pistol with his fingers for the sound at the end.

  “Now, that was a performance we’re not likely to forget anytime soon,” said Dean, the DJ, laughing as he segued to the next singer.

  Mac returned to the table, cocky grin on his face, and slid into the seat next Raine. She turned to look at him, smiling widely. “That was an . . . impressive performance, Mac.”

  Her giggles burst forth, then, and he quirked an eyebrow at her. “Is someone drinking some haterade?”

  “Ooooh,” came the response from the rest of the table.

  Raine gave Mac a flinty look. “You made me sing about a guy’s penis staying hard until early in the morning.” She heard Laney choke on her drink. “So I don’t want to hear any smack from you, buddy.”

  “Fair enough. Truce?” he held out his hand for her to shake. Just when she reached for it, he pulled his hand back. “That was low,” she complained.

  “I think this is the perfect time for our shots, ladies,” Laney slid one over to Raine and Tate.

  Raine grimaced. “You know I’m not a big drinker and shots for me are . . .”

  “What she’s trying to say is that she’s a puker,” Lawson finished. Raine threw him a dirty look.

  “What?” he asked, raising his hands in defense. “I’m only speaking the truth.”

  Mac looked over at Raine, eyebrow quirked. “You’re a puker?”

  Giving him an exasperated look, she sighed. “Look, I just don’t have much—”

  “Any!” came the interrupting chorus from the table.

  Raine gave a sharp look toward them and continued with, “tolerance.”

  “I should probably make sure you have a trash bag on the way home, then?” Mac asked.

  “YES!” came the reply from the table, yet again.

  Raine put her head in her hands. “Why are these my friends?” she muttered.

  RAINE WAS A happy drunk. Mac confirmed this that night.

  “We are sooooo BFF’s!” she professed to a random guy at the bar. The bar he was currently trying to wrangle her from so she could go home and sleep off the enormous hangover bound to happen. Their other friends had already left, leaving him in charge with the friendliest drunk this side of the Mason-Dixon line.

  After giving no fewer than twenty hugs to the remaining patrons at the bar, he finally coaxed Raine out the door and toward where he was parked. And, boy, was he glad he had driven his truck tonight instead of his Triumph. He had no faith whatsoever that he’d be able to maintain an intoxicated Raine on the back of his motorcycle.

  “Watch your step.” He guided her as they walked down the sidewalk, nearing where his truck was parallel parked on the street.

  “You’re such a gentleman, Mac,” she complimented him, happily. “Why can’t everyone be like you?” Sh
e sighed loudly. “Mac, can I ask you a question?”

  “Only if it’s an easy question,” he muttered, trying to steer her closer to the truck.

  Raine giggled but then appeared to sober for a moment. “Why don’t guys want to be with me?” she asked, that wrinkle between her brows nagging at him to smooth it over with his thumb.

  “Guys want to be with you, Raine. You’re just picking ones who are jackasses, that’s all. There’s no guy in his right mind who wouldn’t give his left nut to be with you,” he told her. “Excuse the expression,” he added even though the chances she’d remember this conversation were probably slim to none.

  Finally, they made it to his truck. He used his key fob to unlock the doors, opened the passenger side door for her and gave her a boost up.

  Don’t check out her legs. Don’t check out her legs. Don’t check out her-

  He checked out her legs. Damn it. He was a weak bastard. But, in his defense, Raine’s legs were pretty amazing looking.

  “Are you checking out my legs?” His head jerked up at her question.

  Shit. He had been caught.

  Then, she laughed. “Pffft. Just kidding. My legs are nothing compared to the tiny, skinny girls you like.”

  What the hell did she mean by that?

  He closed her door and came around the truck to get in on the driver’s side. Making sure she had her seatbelt on as well, he started the engine and began the drive back to her place. He kept checking on her to make sure she was alright. She seemed to mellow out, her head laid against the back of the seat, eyes closed.

  “You know what I think about doing sometimes, Mac?” Her voice had a low, drowsy quality to it.

  “What’s that?”

  “I think about making this sandwich board sign–you know, the ones you wear to advertise something–and writing all the girlfriend-like qualities I have on it but also include my not so great qualities, just for honesty’s sake. Then, if I stand by the road, maybe some really good guy would come along, read it, and say, ‘Hey, she’s pretty cool and I see that she can cook and bake and loves kids but she hates reality TV. I need to date her.’”