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Whiskey Tango Foxtrot
Whiskey Tango Foxtrot
Whiskey Tango Foxtrot
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Whiskey Tango Foxtrot

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Have you ever woken up every day afraid of everything?

For single mom and widow Melody Carter, six months passed since an IED ripped her life apart. Everyone is sympathetic and offers platitudes of comfort and support. Everyone thinks they know why she’s grieving, but Melody isn’t mourning her broken heart. She’s ashamed to be grateful her abusive husband won’t hurt her anymore and scared for her child. Born with a mild heart defect, her daughter needs lifesaving surgery and with her funds tight and her emotional scars tighter, she’s running out of options. When she receives an offer for assistance from Mike’s Place, can Melody put her faith in the men her husband called friend?

Have you ever woken up, day after day, to discover your body’s betrayal?

Marine Captain, Joe Anderson Cooper, received the Silver Star for Valor when he led his unit through heavy fire to rescue fellow Marines. Despite numerous injuries, the Captain refused medical aid, insisting that the medics attend others. A broken back and shattered bones put Captain Cooper in a wheelchair and every day is a battle to keep his recovery on track and his sanity intact. When a single mom moves in to the apartment next door to his and he recognizes kindred—damaged—soul, can he overcome her fear and be the man she’s always needed?

Can these two lonely souls rise to the challenge or will their scars trap them forever?

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJan 7, 2013
ISBN9781613334591
Whiskey Tango Foxtrot
Author

Heather Long

Heather Long is a USA TODAY bestselling author who likes long walks in the park, science fiction, superheroes, and Marines. Her books are filled with heroes and heroines tangled in romances as hot as her native Texas summertime.

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    Whiskey Tango Foxtrot - Heather Long

    The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement (including infringement without monetary gain) is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

    Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in, or encourage, the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

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

    Whiskey Tango Foxtrot

    Smashwords Edition

    Copyright © 2013 by Heather Long

    ISBN: 978-1-61333-459-1

    Cover art by Mina Carter

    All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work, in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

    Published by Decadent Publishing Company, LLC

    Look for us online at:

    www.decadentpublishing.com

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    Also by Heather Long

    Always a Marine Books

    Once Her Man, Always her Man

    Retreat Hell! She Just Got Here

    Tell it to the Marine

    Proud to Serve Her

    Her Marine

    No Regrets, No Surrender

    The Marine Cowboy

    The Two and the Proud

    A Marine and A Gentleman

    Whiskey Tango Foxtrot

    The Challenge Series

    Always a Marine - Book 10

    By

    Heather Long

    ~DEDICATION~

    For Survivors. Everywhere.

    Chapter One

    The baby cried again, the pitiful sob’s volume piercing the wall separating the captain’s apartment from the one next door. He usually cranked up the game to block the intrusion, but the hiccupy-cough punctuating the weeping seized him. Hitting pause on the remote, Captain Joe Cooper sat forward on his sofa and listened. The bawl rose again, and he could barely make out the woman’s soothing hums. Stress elongated every sound.

    His new neighbors had arrived a few days before, but he barely saw the mother or her baby despite how often he heard them. He didn’t know where her husband was or why they were there, but he couldn’t ignore the lonely echo in the baby’s cries. Not anymore. Setting the remote down, he pulled his wheelchair closer and hit the lock on the wheel brakes. Muscles straining in his arms, he lifted himself off the sofa and slid onto the chair. Six weeks after graduating from the electric to the manual and he was a damn expert in maneuvering into and out of his wheeled shackles. The sparse apartment didn’t offer much in the way of a challenge, but he didn’t complain. The automated chair limited his physical movements and encouraged his back to heal.

    His back twinged but the brace holding him together kept his spine straight. The heavy cast made it harder to maneuver his right leg, and he lifted his thigh to fit the cast on the footrest. His legs and torso suffered from mild atrophy despite constant physical therapy. Only so much his damaged lower body could perform.

    Settled, he released the brake, spun and wheeled for the door. Exiting the apartment used to be a bitch. Once outside on the concrete walk, he pulled the door closed behind him and rolled to the next door. The infant’s squalls increased—and the little catch hitting in the middle of the scream got longer. His sister’s kids sounded like that sometimes—usually when they were teething or gassy—but something was off in this cry. He hesitated; his neighbor might not appreciate the intrusion. On the other hand he couldn’t ignore the potential need for help.

    Decided, he knocked on the door.

    The baby’s cries continued, but the door didn’t open. He glanced up at the peephole. She probably couldn’t see him.

    Ma’am, I’m Captain Cooper, your neighbor. Joe Cooper. I wanted to make sure everything was okay and see if you needed anything. His mouth twisted into a faint grimace, he sounded so patronizing.

    The door cracked open and a doe-eyed blonde peeked out. She braced her foot against it, but he could make out her soft silhouette and hesitant expression. Even in the low illumination of the porch light, the sadness in her eyes punched him in the gut.

    Joe tipped his head and smiled gently. Good evening.

    Her gaze dropped to meet his and her eyes widened. Yes, he was in a wheelchair. The door opened wider. A big black man in a wheelchair wasn’t a threat. He pushed aside his bitterness. Stop feeling sorry for yourself, you’re not a mind reader.

    I’m—we’re fine. Thank you, Captain Cooper. The milk and honey softness in her voice never rose as she rocked the baby. She’s having a hard time sleeping.

    I hear that. Anything I can do? My oldest nephew—he was a colicky thing. Spent one whole leave walking him around my mother’s house. And he over-shared, but the skittishness skating across the woman’s features forced the confession.

    No—it’s—we’ll be fine. I’m sorry she bothered you. She withdrew.

    Not a bother. Really, I know she’s been having trouble sleeping…. He didn’t want to end the conversation. At her swift frown, he motioned toward his apartment. I’m home a lot and awake a lot, so I hear her when she’s not feeling well.

    She winced and he sighed. Way to go, Coop. Make her feel bad because you can hear her baby. Not that I mind. Actually it’s kind of nice, and you have a beautiful voice. And that’s not creepy at all.

    Her cheeks went rosy and she let go of the door to shift the baby. The cries softened to hiccups. Thank you. The words cost her, but he’d pay money to slug whoever put that deer-in-headlights look in her eyes. We’re scheduled to be at the hospital tomorrow for another assessment….

    Is she okay? He frowned.

    She will be. Her tone lacked the conviction of her words. The doctors seem pretty certain, and I’ve heard great things about the physicians at Mike’s Place.

    She’d heard right. Mike’s Place offered a great medical and physical facility for recovering veterans and their families. He was glad the baby had an appointment there.

    They’re damn good. What was wrong with her baby? Where the hell was her husband? And why is any of this your concern? He ignored the niggling mental voice. Exhaustion rimmed her eyes, light from her living room highlighting the deep shadows underscoring them. He hadn’t seen or heard a male voice in the apartment in the week since they'd arrived.

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