Handle With Care by Patrice Wilton Page B

him. Truly, he’d never really liked the bar scene much, except in his younger years when he’d used them for picking up chicks. He’d been quite a stud in those days—young and fit, long before the war had turned him into damaged goods. Now, women still gave him the eye, but they didn’t have a clue what was going on inside.
    No one knew about the night he’d lost his limb. How the terrorists holding him captive had forced him to perform surgery in order to save a commanding officer’s life. He’d butchered the job so badly, they’d taken a dagger and sliced off his left hand, sawing through bone. He’d passed out from the pain, and for days afterward had a high fever and fought infection. The only reason he’d survived was because they had used a tourniquet to stop the bleeding, and someone had carelessly stitched him up so he could still be of use to them. His right hand had been left intact so he could still patch up their wounded. Fucking bastards.
    Why he’d had the sudden urge to stop at a bar tonight, he had no idea. Unless it was because of Lauren. She was something special and he didn’t deserve a woman like her. She was probably right to be afraid. He wasn’t whole, and if he continued to see her and Josh, their attraction would undoubtedly grow stronger, and where would that get them? In trouble.
    His head throbbed. He wanted to do the right thing and walk away from her and Josh, but the look in her eye, the way she responded when he kissed her, how could he possibly walk away from that?
    Yet, would hurting them both now be better than hurting them later? Hell, he had no idea.
    Shane lay down on his bed and put his hands on his head, trying to ease the torment. A bottle of scotch would help, but he’d promised himself—never again.
    The last time he’d gone to a bar, some old drunk had come up to him, razzing him about his artificial hand. When Shane told him what it was, he’d staggered over and offered to buy him a beer. “Come, have a drink on me. Least I can do for a wounded soldier.”
    He’d declined, wanting a quiet drink before returning to his apartment, but the old guy wouldn’t leave him alone. Slurring his words, he’d said, “I’m not one of those people that think you got hosed by going over there. Hell no. So what if they didn’t have any of those nuclear weapons. Makes no difference. Those damn terrorists need to be put down. I’d go myself, but the recruiters say I’m too old.” He’d laughed. “Too damn old to get killed. Now does that make any sense? So how many have you killed? Bet it must have been hundreds, right?”
    Shane had ignored him, but he didn’t give up. He’d moved in closer and whispered, “You ever see those kids, all innocent like, just before they toss you a fuckin’ grenade. I’d pop them one right between the eyes.”
    That had done it. Shane had popped him and ended up spending a night in jail. It was the night he swore to quit drinking.

    Lauren didn’t see Shane for a couple of days. When he made an excuse not to see Josh the following week, she was sure it was the kiss that had caused the problem.
    She was furious with him for behaving in such a juvenile manner, but angrier at herself. Her poor son would be broken-hearted if Shane refused to see him again, and it would be all her fault. Why the hell did she kiss him anyway? To prove how strong she was, that she could control her emotions? If that had been her reasoning, it was certainly flawed.
    To make it up to Josh, she decided to take him to Magic Kingdom for the day and invited Brad along. Kevin insisted on coming too, and they had a great day on the rides, followed by a wonderful seafood dinner at the White House Restaurant. Kevin ordered a delicious pinot noir, and the boys drank sodas and pretended to be walruses with their straws.
    Kevin flirted with her at dinner and tried to kiss her good night, but she put a quick stop to that. One screw-up was enough.
    If Shane backed out of