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his black leather jacket.
    Chris nodded at a few of the staff members as he headed to the kitchen. He was pretty well-known at Jenny’s now, and he found he kind of liked that. The people here made a change from ex-Rangers and bikers; God knows his life was populated with plenty of them, and that was cool. But spending time with wait staff who knew every type of wine under the sun and pastry chefs who could prepare delicate desserts from scratch was an education in itself.
    He entered the bustling kitchen, looked around. There she was, and for a few seconds, he just watched her. In the kitchen, the woman was a force to be reckoned with, and he loved to see Jenny in her element. She was confident and in total control, and she ran her staff with more precision than some military operations Chris had been involved in. She looked calm and happy, totally centered and at ease. He wished she could look like that all the time.
    But the truth was that despite knowing Jenny for just over four months, and having been there to support her through Emma’s illness, Chris had never touched Jenny. Not once, not ever. He’d hugged Emma, of course, many times. Liv too, and even Kat, who was the ultimate tough girl with a ‘don’t fucking get near me’ sign emblazoned on her forehead. But Jenny? No way.
    Of the four guys, Chris was the closest to Jenny. He spent the most time with her and often drove her from the restaurant to Emma’s on food deliveries after Emma’s chemo sessions. Without any major discussion about it, the boys knew instinctively that she was comfortable with Chris in a way that she just wasn’t with the rest of them, and they all acted accordingly. They always left an empty chair between themselves and Jenny when they sat in the hospital waiting room, but Chris was able to sit right next to her, no problem. They never offered to help her in kitchens with limited, closed room to move, but Chris could be in her personal space with no major issues.
    No, Jenny wasn’t so good with the other guys, and they were incredibly gentle and careful with her as a result. They’d talked about it once and they all had a pretty good idea what they were looking at: they strongly suspected that Jenny had been raped.
    This speculation was based on more than just observation and guesswork. Chris, Dean, Jim and Dallas had all spent three tours in Afghanistan – the first three men had been Rangers in the same unit, and Dallas had been one hell of a sniper – and they had all received specialized training about how to deal with women who had been raped. It happened shockingly often in war, Chris knew, and the Taliban used it as punishment, as a way to shame and humiliate, as a form of terror, as the surest way to devalue a woman in her own family and village.
    Chris had proven especially adept at getting traumatized local women to relax and talk to him through a translator. Something about him seemed to win their trust, and he was often called in to deal with women who had information that the Americans could find useful, but who didn’t want to let a man anywhere near them.
    He’d learned fast how to keep his distance, make himself seem smaller than he was, lower his rough voice. He’d been angered at what had happened to those women, but also inspired by their courage. He knew damn well that true courage didn’t always carry on a public battle, that some of the bravest acts were internal and silent.
    The guys also had a strong feeling that Emma, Liv and Kat knew exactly what was what with Jenny. Chris remembered how Liv and Kat had stood directly in front of Jenny that first time the guys had shown up in the hospital, looking to get Dean in to see Emma. They had acted as physical barriers between the men and Jenny, and Chris would never forget the look of abject fear on her face when she first saw them all standing there, huge and muscled. That had been his first clue, and the signs had just multiplied in number since that