by Elena Aitken
“Great. I’m gonna go check on the chili.” She popped up like a jack-in-the-box and headed into the kitchen.
Percy watched her disappear. “Good night?”
“It’s been fine. Why?”
“Your shirt’s on inside out.”
Well, hell.
Percy grinned. “Good for you, son.” Calling to the dog, he raised his voice. “Duke and I are just gonna go upstairs and read a while. Y’all enjoy your chili.”
Hannah didn’t make a peep from the kitchen.
Ryan took the time to right his shirt before seeking her out. She was staring into the open fridge.
“Are we missing the sour cream?” he asked.
“I was contemplating whether I could crawl in here to die of mortification.”
Ryan rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, as if that would dissipate the lingering sting of embarrassment, and moved to pull bowls from the cabinets and utensils from the drawer. “It’s not that bad. And I officially owe Duke a bone or something for the heads-up.”
“I’m bringing him a dozen of the peanut butter dog biscuits Carolanne carries at Sweet Magnolias.”
“Seems fair. Dinner and a movie instead?”
“Sounds…well, not perfect, but very, very good.”
He’d take the not perfect. And maybe it was for the best. His time with her had an expiration date, and they didn’t have the luxury of spending all of it in bed. Maybe he needed to take this as a sign and establish a little distance. Slowly dial it back toward friends.
So their night home alone turned way more PG, as they finished the chili and curled up together to watch Christmas In Connecticut. Not at all his kind of movie, and not what he’d planned for the night, but he enjoyed himself anyway, loving the way she felt tucked up against him where he could play with the silk of her hair. The quiet was every bit as appealing as the heat. And wasn’t that a surprise?
Once the movie was over, she rose and stretched. “I need to be getting home. I’m on early shift tomorrow.”
Ryan drove her home. As they stopped under her porch light, he pulled her into his arms, lacing his hands at the small of her back. “Sorry Percy has continued his streak of shit timing.”
Hannah’s mouth quirked in a rueful smile. “Could’ve been worse. If we’d been upstairs, I doubt we’d have heard the dog.”
The blood that had made its way back to his brain promptly drained south again at the thought of what they could have been doing. “Better make that two dozen biscuits.”
She was still laughing when he kissed her. The sweet, spicy taste of her seeped into him as her arms twined around his shoulders. He could do this every night. Surprised by the certainty of it, he pulled back.
Hannah smiled. “Thanks for a…memorable night.”
“Back atcha. See you tomorrow?”
“Definitely. I get off at two.” She hesitated. “Ryan?”
“Yeah?”
“You know how you wished for me to get to a place where I’m comfortable being behind the wheel, just because I feel like it?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t know if I’m there yet, but would you drive with me tomorrow?”
This was a trust she’d offered no one else. It was another kind of intimacy—one that, in some ways, went deeper than the physical. Fear was a harder thing to share than pleasure. That she’d share hers with him, ask him to be there for this step, was humbling. Pride and something warmer slid through his chest, and he took a beat, accepted he was already past the point of pulling back, of returning to just friends.
He skimmed a thumb over her cheek, pleased when she tipped her face into his palm. “I’d be happy to.”
She blew out a breath. “Okay.”
“Okay.”
“G’night.” With one last brush of her lips, she opened the door.
Ryan waited until she’d gone inside, then strolled back to the truck. It was official. He was in over his head, way deeper than he’d intended. Right at the moment, he had a hard time caring. This was the most relaxed he’d been in years. All because of her. He was grateful she’d blown into his life, grateful she’d somehow scaled his defenses to show him she was the kind of woman he never knew he always wanted. What the hell that meant for them, he didn’t know. But he suspected she’d be on the same page for finding out.
His phone rang as he slid into the driver’s seat. Expecting his mom wanting an update on Percy, he fished it out. But it wasn’t her number flashing on the screen.
“Hello?”
“Malone, it’s Petrie.”
At the deadly serious voice of Jerod Petrie, one of the members of his team, all Ryan’s pleasure evaporated. Jerod was still in Afghanistan. He’d only be calling for one reason.
Tension coiled in his muscles. “What happened?”
In the silence, Jerod’s sigh was heavier than an M1 Abrams tank. “I didn’t want to call and tell you this on your time off, what with your family worries and all, but I knew you’d be more pissed if you didn’t find out until you got back.” He drew in a ragged breath. “Robbie Haskins is dead.”
Chapter 9
“What’s that frown for, sugar?” Mama Pearl nudged Hannah’s shoulder. “Does somebody need some butt kickin’ or some pie?”
Hannah’s lips curved up at that. “There’s always a reason for some of your pie.”
Mama Pearl automatically lifted the dome off a beautiful lemon meringue and cut a piece. “Tell Mama Pearl what’s wrong.”
She loved this woman. “Nothing’s wrong. At least, I don’t think so. I just haven’t heard back from Ryan today.”
“Ah. The soldier. You been spendin’ a lot of time with him the past couple weeks. Been smilin’ more, too. And with you, that’s saying somethin’.”
Her cheeks heated and she forked up a bite of pie. “I like him.” Okay, she’d edged well past the simple stage of like, but she didn’t want to think about what that meant just yet. “Anyway, we’re supposed to have plans this afternoon, but he hasn’t answered my texts or phone call. That’s not like him. I’m starting to worry something’s happened to Percy.”
“I reckon Percy’s fine.” Mama Pearl nodded toward the front window, where the man in question stood having a conversation with Duke.
The dog sat on the sidewalk, staring up at his new human with focus. Percy looped the leash around the bench by the front door and came inside. “Ladies.”
“Hey, Percy. What brings you into town today?” Mama Pearl asked.
“Need a pie. I’m headed over to the senior center for a poker tournament. Buy-in is dessert.”
“You got a preference what kind?”
“Whatever I can get a whole one of.”
“Coming’ right up.”
As Mama Pearl went to retrieve a fresh pie from the back, Hannah debated whether it made her nosy or needy to question Percy about Ryan. Ultimately, he took it out of her hands.
“You going by the house after you get off in a bit?”
“I’m not quite sure what I’m doing. Ryan’s been incommunicado today.”
“He woke up in a crap mood and got it into his head to tackle the garage. We’ve been working on it since first thing this morning. I doubt he’s looked at his phone.”
“Oh.” Well, there was her explanation. Simple. “What’s he in a bad mood about?”
“Don’t rightly know. He didn’t say and I didn’t ask. But I figure you can cheer him right on up since that seems to be your super power.”
“I expect I can make an effort in that direction.”
“The poker tournament ought to last well into the evening, so you’ve got plenty of time.”
Her face froze. Was he suggesting what she thought he was suggesting? She caught the twinkle in Percy’s eyes. Mortified heat crawled up her throat and across her cheeks. “So you’re saying we’re on our own for dinner?”
“Sure. I used to be a helluva poker player, so I expect I’ll be full up on sweets by then.”<
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Translation: The house will be completely empty for hours.
Wondering if she could just sink through the floor and die of embarrassment, she choked out, “Noted.”
Mama Pearl emerged with the pie, shooting a curious glance between the two of them before ringing Percy’s order up.
“Good luck with the poker tournament.”
“Thanks. I’m hoping somebody will be bringing baklava. My Janie used to make it for me. It’s my favorite.”
Carolanne made amazing baklava. Filing that detail away, Hannah waved and turned back to her pie. By the time she’d finished the pie and her shift, she’d worked her way through the embarrassment. Mostly. If Ryan’s bad mood stemmed from sexual frustration, well, she could relate. She’d lain awake far too late last night, thinking about what they hadn’t finished. So maybe it was worth putting off their plans of driving for far more pleasurable pursuits.
The garage door was down by the time Hannah made it to the house, so she trotted up the steps and knocked on the door. When Ryan didn’t answer, she tried the knob. Locked. Maybe he was in the shower? Or working out back? Circling around the house, she scanned the backyard, but he wasn’t out there. So she went back to the front door and rang the bell. This time the door was yanked open.
Her flirty smile slid away as she caught sight of Ryan’s face. The stoic soldier mask was back, along with that unnatural stillness that had to be part of his training. “Hey. I tried to get up with you earlier.”
“Sorry. I was busy.”
“Percy came by the diner and said you’d been tackling the garage. That’s quite the project.” She stepped into the house and tried to slip her arms around him, but he stepped back.
The rejection struck her like a slap. He was hard-core walls up. Clearly, they weren’t going to be picking up where they’d been interrupted last night. Not yet, anyway. Shoving down her disappointment and hurt, she slid her hands into her coat pockets. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Did you and Percy have a fight?”
“No.” He grabbed his coat and the keys. “Let’s get this over with.”
Her pleasure at seeing him began to wane as he yanked the door open and gestured her ahead of him. In its place, the vague anxiety she always had when faced with the prospect of driving mushroomed up and pressed down on her like a cloud of ash. With every step out of the house, every foot closer to the truck, the pressure cranked tighter. At her back, she could feel his impatience, and her hands began to shake.
Clenching them into fists, she stopped before circling around to the driver’s side. “You know what? Today’s not a good day for this.”
“It’s fine. Just get in the truck.”
The clipped tone had her hunching into her coat. No way was she getting behind the wheel with him in this kind of mood. “Ryan, I can’t deal with your stress and mine. Something is clearly going on with you that you don’t want to talk about. And that’s fine. It’s just not a good time. We’ll do this later.”
“Later,” he snorted. “Sure. Just keep running away from your commitments because it’s easier. Maybe you should just keep on walking.”
Stunned, she could only stare at him. “Excuse me?”
“You’re a coward. Hiding out from your life, making do with this small existence instead of taking the hard road and doing whatever’s necessary to get back to your real life.”
His words hit her like a hail of bullets, hard enough she stumbled back. What could she say? It was true. Her sister had been carefully tiptoeing around it for the past two months. But there was no reason for this implacable, hateful attitude. No reason that was about her, anyway. Because this wasn’t the man she’d come to know.
“What happened after you left me last night?”
“Nothing.”
“Something happened. Something tripped this switch, because the guy I’ve gotten to know over the past couple of weeks isn’t an asshole.”
“You wouldn’t know what I am.”
“I know you’re hurting over something and lashing out.” Nothing else made sense.
“You don’t know anything. Newsflash, Elf Girl, the world isn’t the happy, fluffy place you pretend it to be.”
“I’m not pretending anything.”
He snorted in disgust. “This was a mistake. All of this was a mistake.” There was no question that by this he meant them.
She flinched back as if he’d slapped her, her back coming up against the truck. “You don’t mean that.”
“I mean every word.”
Maybe he was right. Maybe she’d misjudged him from the beginning. Either way, she wasn’t sticking around for more abuse. “Fine. I’m gonna go. If you decide to pull your head out of your ass, you know where to find me.”
Her eyes burned with unshed tears as she strode down the driveway, everything he’d said banging around in her brain like so many bumper cars. As she reached the sidewalk, she turned back, taking in his stiff posture, his fisted hands, and the immutable set of his chin. “You know, maybe I am living small and in the grand scheme of things my life is insignificant, but it’s better than this shadow of a life you insist on. At least I’m not afraid to let people love me.”
His expression didn’t even flicker.
Accepting the disappointment of that, she walked away.
Ryan needed to get the hell out of Wishful. Everywhere he looked reminded him of Hannah and of the fact that he’d been here, enjoying life, instead of in Afghanistan, a part of the mission that had stolen his friend’s life. The details Jerod had relayed about the op kept playing on repeat in his head. If he’d been there, he could’ve done something to stabilize Robbie long enough to make it to a fucking hospital. Instead, he’d died of the trauma before he’d even made it on the helo.
But he couldn’t just leave. Not without completing the mission he’d been assigned here. Tired of waiting, of diplomacy, of pussy-footing around the realities, Ryan carried his medical bag downstairs. Percy sat at the kitchen table, digging into the spoils of his poker tournament win. Of course a grown-ass man should have pie at ten in the damned morning.
“Well, I see your mood hasn’t improved. Have some pie, since you clearly didn’t get anything else sweet this week.”
No, he certainly hadn’t. He’d poured gasoline all over his relationship with Hannah and set it on fire. “I don’t want any damned pie. We’re doing this exam. I need to get back to base, and I need to know you’re okay before I go.”
“You’re not my doctor, and I don’t need a damned exam to tell me what I already know. I’m old as dirt. End of story.”
Ryan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Percy—”
“You think I don’t know your mama sent you, no matter what bull you fed me when you got here? I’m no idiot. I let you stay because she’s worried about you, too.”
Ryan dropped his hand and stared at his uncle. Had his mother set him up this whole time? Surely she hadn’t deliberately exaggerated Percy’s condition to get him home from the field for this. Surely this was just something she’d said to Percy to cover up for what she’d really asked. Because the alternative didn’t bear contemplating. “There’s no reason to worry about me.”
“Beg to differ, son. I was all set to send her back a report that everything was fine with you. But it’s sure as shit not. Not after the last couple of days.”
“I’m fine,” Ryan gritted out. He wasn’t going to let this get turned around on him.
“Bullshit. I’m not buying what you’re selling. Not when you’ve been practically joined at the hip with Hannah since she first came over here, and she’s been scarce as hen’s teeth the last two days. Not when I got reports back that you made that sweet girl cry. Broke down right in the middle of decorating Maudie Bell’s living room.”
Fuck.
It wasn’t a surprise. He’d been a right asshole. Deliberately striking out in a fashion that would ensure she wouldn’t come anywhere near him again.
Every word he’d spewed had made him feel lower than the belly of a worm. It had been like kicking a puppy. He’d told himself it was necessary. He didn’t deserve someone like her in his life. Better he hurt her now, before it went any further. Before his darkness ended up tainting all that goodness and light.
But he’d made her cry. Damn it.
“What the hell is the matter with you?” Percy demanded.
Fighting the urge to hunch his shoulders, Ryan kept his voice low and even. “I told you from the beginning, I don’t need a woman.”
“And I told you you were full of shit. She was good for you. You were happier with her.”
He didn’t want to hear this. He didn’t need the reminder of what he’d had that Robbie would never get a chance at. “What do you know, old man?”
“I know not to throw away the love of a good woman. It’s the best damned thing that can happen to a man, and you’re a damned moron if you think otherwise.”
“Hannah doesn’t love me.” He’d torched things before they could get to that point. To save them both.
“She could’ve, if you’d kept your head out of your ass. But you had to go self-destructing shit. Because that’s what you do.”
Ryan’s head kicked back. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Ever since you went Delta Force, you’ve pulled back from everybody and everything. You deny yourself anything real or good. Like you don’t have a right to that, given what you do.”
Searching for calm, Ryan curled his hands around the back of a chair and tried to stay reasonable. This was basic shit that Percy ought to remember from his own stint in the military. “I can’t afford to get attached.”
“You’re afraid to get attached.”
Insult bloomed, along with a flicker of what could have been recognition. Hannah had made the same accusation. Ryan clenched his teeth against it until his jaw all but cracked. “I’m not afraid.” He gritted the words with a deliberateness that bordered on menace.
“Then why the hell did you blow up one of the best things to ever happen to you?”