Because I Said So: (A Texas Heroes Crossover Novel) (The Hell Yeah! Series) Read online

  BECAUSE I SAID SO

  TEXAS HEROES/

  HELL YEAH!

  CROSSOVER

  By

  Sable Hunter

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Because I Said So

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright 2016 © Sable Hunter

  Cover by JRA Stevens

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

  This book will break your heart…then mend it back together again.

  BECAUSE I SAID SO crosses the world of the TEXAS HEROES with the beloved characters of Hell Yeah! to teach the eternal lesson that everyone deserves a second chance at love.

  As far as Brodie Walton is concerned, his life was over the day his beloved fiancé was killed in a senseless mass shooting. He doesn’t deserve happiness. He doesn’t even know how to go on. To give his life meaning, he seeks to save others as a first responder, so their loved ones won’t face the sorrow that he lives with each day. His plan seems to be coming together…until he meets his new partner.

  Shane Wilder jerks the rug out from under Brodie Walton, sending him reeling – awakening feelings and emotions that he has no desire to experience again. This baptism of fire brings out the worst in him. He lashes out at her, when all he really wants to do is hold her close and never let her go.

  Shane has been through the emotional wringer herself. After her divorce from an unfaithful husband, she’s sworn off men…until she meets her handsome, cantankerous boss. When Shane discovers why he’s thornier than a bramble bush, she sets out to show Brodie he has a right to be happy, she wants nothing more than to give him a reason to live.

  Yes, sometimes…Love Hurts.

  And sometimes, it’s the only thing that will save you.

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  About the Author:

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  CHAPTER ONE

  PROLOGUE

  BRODIE

  “I love you more than anything, Mary Masterson. Will you marry me?” Brodie Walton went to one knee in front of the woman he adored. He found it hard to breathe. This moment meant everything to him. As he watched her precious face, every second they’d shared flashed through his mind.

  The first time he saw her, she’d been a vision in the moonlight, walking toward him as he headed to the field house after a high school football game.

  The first time he kissed her after they’d run home from the park during a rainstorm, he’d always remember the taste of her mouth as he kissed the water droplets from her lips.

  He’d also never forget the first time they made love. It was her first time with a man and it was his first time that mattered.

  So many memories, so much love.

  He couldn’t wait to share a lifetime with her.

  “Yes, Brodie.” Mary began to cry. “I want to be your wife, it’s all I’ve ever dreamed of.”

  Holding her trembling hand, he pushed the diamond ring onto her finger. “I want to set the date as soon as possible. There’s no need to wait.” Brodie was determined to make Mary his. She was his world, he yearned to spend every day of his life with her.

  “I’ll marry you anytime you say, my darling.” Mary put her arms around Brodie, hugging him close. “I don’t need a fancy ceremony. We can elope if you’d like.”

  As tempted as he was, Brodie didn’t want to elope. “No, you deserve a beautiful wedding. I just don’t want to take a year to plan it.” Brodie couldn’t really explain it, but he felt an odd urgency, a desperate need to tie her to him forever.

  “We won’t. I’ll get with Mother today and we’ll start planning.” She gave him a tender kiss. “I can’t wait to be Mrs. Brodie Walton.”

  Brodie buried his head in her neck, inhaling her sweet, familiar scent. “I’ve loved you so long, my Mary. You’re my other half. My soul mate. I couldn’t live without you; I wouldn’t want to.”

  “I want to be with you forever, my Brodie.” She laid her head on his hair, rubbing the solid wide width of his shoulders with both hands.

  “We will, nothing will ever come between us. I vow it.” He crushed her to him, so hard she laughed in protest.

  “Leave me a little air, I still have some work to do.”

  “Stay with me.” He held on to her tightly, unwilling to let her go. “I don’t have to be at the fire station for another hour. Logan covered for me so I could propose.” Just as soon as the jeweler sized the ring, Brodie had to pop the question. He’d been too impatient to even wait for a more romantic setting.

  “I need to go.” She ran her fingers through his hair. “And you need a haircut.” Mary tugged playfully at the long strands. “Besides, I want to stop and buy a couple of bridal magazines.”

  “Okay, you be careful though, and call me when you get home.” He stood and helped her to her feet. “You belong to me, Mary Masterson. Don’t ever forget it.”

  “Oh, I won’t.” She held up her hand, diamond flashing. “I have the proof right here.”

  The proof of his love.

  As Brodie watched her leave, he blew her a kiss. His heart was brimming with emotion. “Take care of yourself.”

  “Why should I do that?” she called out flirtatiously.

  “Because I said so,” he answered with a huge smile. “And because I have plans for you later.”

  “You always say ‘because I said so’, I love it. And I look forward to later. You take care of my Brodie.” Mary raised her hand in one last good-bye.

  Her Brodie.

  Brodie kept his eyes on Mary until she was out of sight. Yes, Brodie Walton belonged to Mary Masterson.

  Forever.

  * * *

  “I hate this time of year, Chief.” Brodie turned the crank to roll up the hose. “Wildfires just pop up everywhere.”

  “The grass is so dry; it doesn’t take much. A cigarette gets thrown out of a car, or someone decides to burn garbage, or we have a lightning storm, just one spark and everything goes to hell.”

  “Well, we’ve had two today. We need more equipment, another truck. We’re stretched too thin,” Ronan said, interjecting his own worries into the conversation.

  “I hear you.” Logan removed his helmet and wiped the sweat off his forehead with a handkerchief. “We’re a rural volunteer fire department. Our resources are limited. I wish we had more equipment, more men. What we need is a special bond election, get some tax money allocated to help us expand.”

  “I doubt if it would pass,” Brodie said, taking a bottle of water from the cooler and handing one to each of hi
s buddies. He surveyed the scorched pasture where they’d just moments ago doused a grass fire. “Taking money out of their pocket for some unforeseen disaster is against most folks’ nature. Usually something bad has to happen before people are willing to vote to raise their taxes.”

  About that time, the radio blared. “What the hell?” Logan ran to the truck, grabbing his phone on the way. “Something’s going down.”

  “Emergency. Emergency. All units. We have a shooter at the Dairy Hut on Chestnut in Wimberley.”

  “A shooter? Are you kidding me?” Brodie ran to climb aboard.

  “Why are they calling us?” Ronan asked. “Why don’t they call the cops?”

  As Logan started the big engine, he spoke solemnly, “I’m sure they did. Ambulances too. If they’re calling us in, there must be multiple casualties.”

  In moments, they were roaring down the highway toward the neighboring town. Brodie worried, the area had seen too much heartache in recent years. Flash floods had taken their toll. Folks were just now rebuilding their lives.

  “A shooter? In Wimberley?” Ronan held onto the overhead bar. “I can’t imagine. Who would do such a thing?”

  “Maybe it was an accident,” Brodie said, hopefully.

  Logan held the phone to his ear, then threw it onto the seat. “Hell, it wasn’t an accident. The shooter was some random guy, walked into the Hut and started spraying bullets. We’ve got nine people down in the restaurant and a host of injured out on the street. They’ve called in units from as far away as San Antonio.”

  “God, no,” Brodie breathed a prayer. Wimberley was a small community. Most everyone in the region knew everyone else. Undoubtedly their friends and neighbors would be among the victims.

  The firefighters collectively held their breath as the fire engine traveled the few miles into town. When they pulled up at the small eating establishment, it was to find myriad cop cars, the other fire trucks, and the communities lone ambulance pulling out with siren blaring.

  Once the truck came to a stop, Brodie jumped out. Before he could take three steps, Jacob McCoy of the Kerrville Unit stopped him. “Don’t go in there, man.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Brodie went to push him aside, but Jacob stood firm. “You don’t want to go in there.”

  “Why?”

  “Mary.”

  The way Jacob spoke his Mary’s name speared Brodie right through the heart. He knew Jacob was Mary’s friend, they’d worked together on one of the committees for the cancer research foundation that Jacob’s family sponsored. “Out of my way, Jacob.” Brodie didn’t give Jacob a chance to say anything else. “Mary!” The big man would’ve moved a mountain getting inside.

  “Brodie, please.” Chris joined Jacob, doing their best to prevent their friend from going into the building. “You don’t want to go in there.”

  “I have to.” Brodie felt like every bone in his body had turned to liquid. “Is she hurt? Mary!” he called again, his voice breaking. Pushing his friends out of the way, he opened the door and his senses were immediately assaulted by what he found.

  Blood.

  Blood was everywhere. The sight and stench of it horrified him. Bodies littered the floor. In a haze he recognized Newt McCauley, sprawled on the floor, lying in a pool of his own blood. E. C. Robinson was slumped over in a booth, his arm hanging lifelessly down, blood dripping from his fingers. Velma Honeycutt was in a fetal position on the floor, or he thought it was Velma, half of her face was missing. “Oh, God. God, no. Mary?” Brodie whimpered, agony slicing through his very soul. “Where is she?”

  “By the bathroom, she was trying to hide.” Jacob grabbed his arm. “Don’t go back there, there’s nothing you can do.”

  “I. Have. To.” He strained out every word as he made his way through the carnage. Brodie couldn’t think. This wasn’t real.

  He was sleeping, this was a nightmare.

  Any moment he’d wake up and all of this would be gone. “Mary’s not here,” he told himself. “She was going home. She was buying bridal magazines and she was heading home. Safe.”

  Even as he said the words, his eyes had fell on a sight he couldn’t comprehend. “Oh, Mary, my Mary.” He ran to her and sank down, gathering her small body into his arms. “She’s okay. She’s okay. I don’t even see any blood.” He began to feel of her, looking in vain for a pulse.

  “She was shot, Brodie. Just once. Looks like it was quick.” Chris went to his knees beside his friend.

  Logan joined them. “Brodie, I’m so sorry.”

  Brodie kissed her sweet face. “She’s okay. She’s fine.” Anything else was impossible. Life wouldn’t go on if Mary were gone. The world would stop spinning. He wouldn’t be breathing.

  “Come on, man. Let’s get you out of here. Let someone else take care of Mary.”

  “No!” Brodie was emphatic. “I’ll take care of Mary.”

  The rest of them stepped back, leaving him alone with the woman he loved. As he cradled her small, still body, Brodie attempted to press countless moments into the memory book of his mind.

  Her sweet smile. Her infectious laugh. The sweet way she said his name. The teasing looks she’d give him when she wanted to make love. The way they held one another at night, whispering about the dreams for their future.

  A future that would never happen.

  All around him, the others worked. There was much to be done, the horrific events of the day would take hours to clean up.

  Brodie rocked back and forth, his lips resting against her forehead, all of his dreams of the future turning to ash.

  When the ambulance finally came to collect Mary’s body, Brodie wouldn’t leave her for a moment. “You don’t understand; I have to go with her. Mary and I were going to be married.”

  No one argued with him. No one tried to keep him back. They all knew that Brodie and Mary were inseparable.

  As he settled into the back of the ambulance, still holding Mary’s hand, Brodie made her one final promise.

  “I’ll never love anyone else, Mary. No woman will ever replace you in my heart.”

  * * *

  Shane Wilder threw her books on the couch. “Rodney? I’m home.” She kicked off her shoes and padded to the kitchen for a glass of water. “Class was a bitch today. They let us out early, thank God. I’ll be so glad when I finish chemistry, it’s eating my lunch.” She tilted her head back and took a long drink, gathering her shoulder length brown hair into a pony tail. “They’re moving Aunt Bess into my unit. Isn’t that great?” She paused, then continued to speak. “God, it’s hot. How was your day?”

  Waiting a moment, Shane listened.

  Odd.

  Her husband was home; his car was out front. He’d been off work for at least a couple of hours. Glancing at the stove she saw nothing was on to cook. “Rodney?”

  She heard a noise, a mumbling.

  “Do you want me to call for some take-out?”

  Moving toward the bedroom, she wondered if he was taking a shower. “What are you doing?”

  When she entered their room, she could hear the shower running. Hoping to surprise her husband, Shane quickly peeled off her clothes to join him. She’d just dropped her panties and bra into a pile, when she heard an unmistakable female giggle. Shock and shame slammed into Shane like a semi. Without thinking, she stormed into the bathroom and jerked back the shower curtain. Her husband was busy. A woman was sitting on his shoulders, her legs around his neck as she leaned back on the stall. His head was buried between her legs and he was licking her pussy like he was starving to death.

  “Get the hell out of my house,” Shane growled, so filled with fury that she was shaking as she clumsily redressed.

  Rodney was so intent on what he was doing that it took him a second or two to realize what was going on. The woman came to herself quicker and started to struggle to get down. “Rodney, Rodney, we’ve got to…”

  Shane didn’t wait, she turned to the vanity to hunt for anythin
g to fight with. Opening a drawer, she found her spare pepper spray. Grabbing it, she took aim, dousing her husband right in the eyes. The busty brunette covered her face and scrambled out, only bothering to grab her clothes, trying to put them on as she made a run for the front door.

  “Fuck, Shane!” Rodney covered his eyes, slinging his arm out to find a towel.

  Shane grabbed it from the rack and threw it to one side. “You lousy, asshole, cheat! In my house? You were fucking another woman in my house? How long has this shit being going on?”

  In pain, Rodney lashed out. “Since the beginning! You just aren’t enough woman to satisfy a man.”

  Shane was so angry that she was surprised his jab hurt her, but it did. “Why did you even stay married to me?”

  He didn’t have an answer and she didn’t really want one. “Get out!” She pointed toward the door.

  Standing at the sink, he splashed water in his eyes. “Gladly. You can’t blame me, Shane. Look at you. Your parents named you right. You look like a boy.”

  “Shut up, Rodney. Just get out of my sight.” She dashed tears from her eyes. Feeling foolish, she couldn’t help but ask. “Was she the first?”

  A harsh laugh escaped his mouth. “Not hardly. You make good money; you were paying off my student loans. I could put up with fucking you for a few years as long as I was getting some on the side.”

  Weariness swamped Shane. She stood in the doorway that connected the bath to the bedroom she shared with her husband. The new blue curtains and bedspread she’d found on sale didn’t register. A photograph of them on their wedding day, which she’d proudly set on the dresser didn’t register. The only thing resonating with her was her husband standing at their sink naked, his cock still wet from another woman’s pussy. “Just leave, Rodney. We’ll work the details out later.”

  “Whatever, it was just a matter of time.” He dried his face on a monogrammed towel, their entwined initials embroidered with gold thread.