Justifying Jack (The Wounded Warriors Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page A

painfully through the drizzle into the foyer of the church.
    Typical,
he thought as the door swung shut behind him. Heat belched from the radiators, assaulting him with such force he waited to see if steam would rise from his garments, like a sauna.
It's freaking Texas. There really don't need to be heaters.
Shaking his head in hopes of ridding himself from his pain and weather induced grump, he hobbled toward the stairs. Though he despised his cane, wishing he didn't need the wretched implement, he knew there was no avoiding it.
    Though he could maneuver well enough in small quarters without it, he could barely walk without it on a day like this.
Good thing it's Thursday. Wednesday nights are busy enough, but with last night's festivities, there shouldn't be anyone around but Mom.
He wrestled his bum leg down the hallway, swearing under his breath, convinced God would forgive him, even if the parishioners wouldn't.
Thank you God for not zapping my sinful ass right out of the church,
he thought, ending up in the office, not really paying attention to his surroundings.
    “Mom, I…” He stopped dead. Instead of his mother, a beautiful Hispanic woman looked up from the desk, meeting his eyes with a captivating hazel stare. For one moment, awareness sparked between them, and then, as though a blind had been pulled, Marithé cut off the intimacy. Her eyes returned to the impersonal pleasantness she'd shown when he had entered.
    “Mr. Nelson,” she began, and the sound of his name spoken in her warm and sweetly accented voice had such an impact on him, he had to tug his jacket a little lower around his hips.
Glad I didn't take it off.
    “Mar… Mrs. Dominguez.”
She wants formality? I guess it's her call.
Ignoring his pang of disappointment, he returned to the business at hand. “I'm here to turn in my application for the groundskeeper position.”
    She nodded with a bland smile and held out her hand. “I'll be sure it gets turned in to… the associate pastor. He's, ah… he's in charge of the interviewing.”
Dad? Of course, he's in charge of the interviewing.
    He placed the sheaf of papers in her palm, admiring the long, slender fingers and the thick gold wedding ring she still wore. He lifted his eyes to hers and quirked one eyebrow.
    “I'll always wear it,” she said, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial murmur. “I'm a widow, not a divorcee. It's only right that I continue to wear the symbol of my vows to Jorge.”
    “Someday, you might want to date again,” he said, taking a chance, “and that might be a bit off putting.”
    Marithé shook her head. “I don't see myself doing that ever again. No, my life belongs to my children now.”
    Jack felt a pain of sadness. “I… I don't mean to pry, but I honestly don't think Jorge would want you to -”
    “Jorge was my soulmate,” Marithé stated firmly. “He was and always will be my one true love. Besides, he's the father of my children. Dating after being married to him seems… ridiculous.”
    “You're pretty young to give up on men forever, don't you think?” Jack commented, trying to ignore the discouragement and sorrow her words caused to rise within him.
I wish a beautiful woman like Marithé could love me with that sort of passion.
    She narrowed her eyes at him. “It's not a question of time. Who could compare to my Jorge, Mr. Nelson? Should I be so willing as to accept just anyone? I know what
real
love is and I won't accept anything less.”
    Jack closed his mouth with a snap.
What are you doing, man? You barely know this woman. A handful of letters about her dead husband doesn't equal a relationship. And she's only been widowed a few months. Of course, she's not going to be interested now. And with your… problems, you wouldn't even be a consideration.
“Of course not, I'm sorry. And you're right, you shouldn't settle for anything less. Please forgive me if I came across wrong, Mrs. Dominguez. It's the weather. It brings out the ass in