“You want to go anywhere in particular?”
I stare at him for a moment and try to think. Going home any time soon makes my heart shrivel with dread. It’s mid-summer so the weather is pretty good and I don’t want to be cooped up indoors, wondering what the hell to do with myself.
“Can we go to the lake?”
Nick nods, a flicker of something skating across those deep blue eyes of his. “Sure.”
He pulls out of the street and takes us quickly away from the city. The lake is in the middle of nowhere surrounded by a gorgeous sandy bank. It might be busy with the weather but if you take the back entrance, you can usually find a nice quiet spot. It’s too cold for swimming most of the time though kids don’t seem to mind and I’ve swum in it before.
Maybe that’s why I saw something in Nick’s eyes. A memory perhaps. We went there, a few years ago for a BBQ with some of Rob’s friends and their wives. Rob was being a jerk, flirting with another wife and almost got himself knocked out. He drank too much and ended up passed out. I was so embarrassed, I wandered off into the forests surrounding the lake.
Nick—Mr. Super Hero—came after me. We chatted a little. This was before we grew really close. He sat me down on a log and listened to me complain. Sometimes I wish he weren’t so understanding. He makes me feel so imperfect. The man has been through hell and back and he’s still amazing. So funny and interesting, and kind.
But there had been a moment, as we sat on that log, where we paused and just kind of stared at each other. It was one of those moments where your life might have gone down a different route had you taken the chance.
But neither of us would do that to Rob. Nick, out of loyalty to the man who was once his best friend, and me, because in spite of everything, I still believed in marriage vows. Perhaps that’s silly seeing as Rob didn’t, but I think once you vow something, you’ve got to stick with it.
I lean my head against the padded part of the car window and feel the vibrations as Nick drives away from the coast. I’m aware of his cologne seeping through the air. I don’t know the name of it but I recognize it. He seems to always wear it and it’s comforting. Makes me want to close my eyes and drift off. In fact, Nick’s whole presence does that to me. It makes me alive with awareness at the same time as wrapping me in this blanket of comfort. It might be the warrior’s body that does it. That sense of always being protected. And, boy, does Nick deliver on that. From his severe brow to his large arms, there’s no doubting the man is as capable as ever, even with his leg injury.
Sitting up as we drive into the rear parking lot, the gravel crunching under the tires, I let out a breath as I note there are hardly any cars around. I don’t really want to run into happy families right now. I guess I really am bitter, but it just reminds me of what I don’t have.
Nick reaches across and unbuckles his seatbelt and then mine.
“I am capable of doing that myself you know.” I keep my voice light. I’m not sure how I’m coming across at the moment and I desperately want to regain some of our banter. I sense he’s been tip-toeing around me ever since Rob’s death and I just want to pretend everything is normal again.
“Yeah, yeah I know. It wouldn’t kill you to let a man look after you sometimes, you know? Too damned independent.” He flashes me a grin, making my heart leap briefly. “Come on then. Let’s get some fresh air.”
He climbs out and I sit and wait as he comes around to open the door for me.
“See? I let you do stuff for me,” I tease as he opens it and I climb out, readjusting my skirt. I frown as I remember my high heels. Hardly beachwear.
He shakes his head. “Not normally you don’t.”
“Yeah, well you’re a little old fashioned, you know? Most guys don’t bother opening doors and stuff.”
Nicks pins me with a raised eyebrow and a severe look. “I won’t apologize for being a gentleman, Sienna.”
Warmth heats my cheeks and I hope he can’t see it. He’s right. I don’t know how to react when a man takes the time to look after me.
“Sorry,” I mumble.
He shakes his head again. “Don’t apologize, short stuff. Just let me take care of you sometimes.”
This time my heart does more than leap. It nearly recoils out of my chest. Would it be terrible to admit that I would love for him to take care of me?
Yes, it would. I’ve just buried my husband and I will never, ever get involved with a soldier again.
“Come on,” I say and tug at his arm.
We make our way down to the sandy shoal and I slip off my heels. He takes them from me and I make no protest, determined not to get a scolding again.
The sand is warm against my toes and I spot kids playing on the opposite side of the lake. I make out their squeals of delight and force back a sigh. I wonder if I’ll ever have that. I feel too damaged to even think about dating again. Yeah, I’m not ancient but to go through all that once more. Meeting someone, getting to know them… maybe falling in love. It could take years. I’ll probably be forty by the time I finally settle down again and then what? I’ve heard it’s a lot harder to conceive by then.
Arm in arm, we stroll down to the water’s edge. Nick steps back as I dip my toes into the water and shudder.
“Fuck, it’s cold!”
He laughs, a deep laugh that makes the toes in question curl into the wet sand. Glancing over my shoulder, I squint at him in the bright midday sun. I swallow as he views me from under his brow. Hands pushed into his pant pockets, he’s discarded his jacket—I didn’t even notice when to be honest—and is wearing a white shirt. A little tanned skin is visible at the neck and it makes my mouth feel like the damned Sahara desert.
I turn away before he notices me gaping. He must know.
Must know how sexy I find him. It’s so wrong, it sends jabbing shafts of guilt through me, but I’ve always thought he was gorgeous in that rough, untamed kind of way.
Complete opposite of Rob really. Why oh why did I choose the wrong man? I’ve asked myself that a ton of times. Rob charmed me, I guess, and I was young and easily enticed. Nick is kind of quiet at first. Brooding, I suppose. I was quite intimidated by him when I first met him.
Backing away from the lake, I retreat to his side. “Well, I guess everything went well today, right?”
“Yeah.”
“I mean considering…” I fluster.
“Yeah, I know what you mean.” He gives me a tilted smile.
I twist my feet in the sand, arms wrapped around myself. “How are you doing? He was your best friend, after all.”
He sighs audibly. “He was, but, fuck, I hate to say it… I saw this coming. Rob was so destructive.” He runs a hand through his golden hair and throws me a regretful look. “I almost wasn’t surprised when I heard he was dead.”
“God, I wish I wasn’t. I knew his drinking was bad, but he always seemed indestructible to me. Like he could do anything, get away with anything.”
“Yeah I think he seemed like that to everyone. That was probably why people admired him so much.”
“Did you?”
“I used to. When I was younger. We grew up together and he was always the outgoing, crazy one. But the past few years…” He secures me with an intense look and all the air leaves my lungs. “He’s been a fucking fool.”
I try to force myself to turn away but he has me pinned. Does he mean Rob was a fool for the way he treated me or something else? A fool for drinking so much? A fool for cheating on me? Sometimes I wondered if it was PTSD—post traumatic stress disorder—but his behavior went downhill way before he was ever deployed. Maybe it aggravated it, I don’t know. The military is pretty hot on it, and tries to keep a close eye on the soldiers, but they’ve only got so many resources and if someone’s in denial, what can they do?
Honestly, I suspect Rob was on the path to ruin a long time ago. With no parents and a foster home background, he was always the rebel and I guess he never let go of that.
The
connection breaks between us suddenly and I drop my gaze to my feet. In an unexpected move, he snatches my hand and begins to tug me along. I stumble on the sand and giggle. I’m not sure if I’m amused or grateful the moment’s ended.
“Where are we going?”
“I dunno. Just for a walk.”
He keeps hold of my hand and I must admit, it’s a pretty nice feeling. I can’t remember the last time Rob held my hand. I shouldn’t enjoy it so much, but no one can see us, and if two friends can’t comfort each other then what’s the point of being friends?
I need to forget that this friend of mine is insanely sexy and makes my arm tingle and my… well, let’s be honest, my pussy clench.
His callused hand on mine as we stroll along the bank only increases the tingles, but it does definitely offer me comfort. Out in the sun, standing next to this gorgeous man, I could almost forget I’ve just buried my husband.
“So,” he says, “any news on the apartment?”
“Yeah, I’m waiting for the paperwork to be finalized and hopefully I’ll be moving in pretty soon. A few weeks I guess. I can’t wait.”
“That keen to get away from me, huh?”
I smack his arm playfully. “Not from you, you idiot. But definitely from the house, the army. I really wasn’t a very good military wife. The sooner I’m out of there the better.”
“You could have been an amazing military wife. It’s not like that for everyone, you know? You just need to find the right guy.”
I gulp. “And it’s closer to work,” I add lamely, ignoring his pointed comment.
Was he inferring he was the right guy? God, maybe he was, once. But I’m burned. I can’t do it again. I want to forget about this part of my life and move on. Live like a normal person. No more moving and worrying, and having to make new friends and sucking up to the officers. All that rank crap. I hated it. It’s such an old fashioned notion. And some of the wives… you’d think they were the ones with the rank, not their husbands. Most of them were okay, but one or two of them just spoiled it for the rest of us.
“I’ll come give you a hand moving your stuff,” he offers.
I nod. I feel bad but I need the help. Nick is too generous and I’m going to have to figure out a way to pay him back someday. Problem is, I can’t move my couch and big stuff on my own so I need a strong guy. I don’t own enough furniture to warrant paying some moving men and putting down the deposit on the apartment wiped me out. So I’m being extra careful with my cash.
Nick leads me over to a bench set back against the woods and we sit. The silence is odd. Not uncomfortable, but strange in the way it soothes me. I hear the kids screaming across the lake but it’s so low, I just enjoy it. Normally Nick and I talk a lot but my emotions are so shot, I’m incapable of normal conversation.
“Thanks for being here, Nick,” I say quietly.
“Where else would I be?”
“I don’t know. Not hanging out with someone so pathetic.”
The numbness seems to be wearing off and I remember I need to return to an empty house. I feel pathetic. Pathetic that I couldn’t keep my husband happy. They say don’t blame yourself in relationships like we had, but you can’t help it. You wonder why you weren’t good enough. What was it that made them cheat and… and lash out.
I swallow as a knot forms in my throat. It only happened once. He was drunk, as usual, and I don’t even know what I did—maybe I said something wrong—and the scariest expression I’ve ever seen came over his handsome face. His dark eyes filled with utter hatred and his hands went about my neck, crushing and painful.
I kicked out at him, barely doing any damage but it seemed to break his rage. Rob dropped me and stormed out. I’d planned to leave. It was the breaking point. How did it go so wrong?
A few days later the police came knocking, telling me he was dead.
“You’re not pathetic, Sienna. You’re an amazing woman. You work hard and I know you worked hard at your marriage too. But it can only work if both of you are putting in the time. Rob didn’t deserve you.”
I glance at him, mouth slightly ajar. I swear this man reads me better than anyone. His words make my heart swell at the same time as bringing all my emotions to the surface. Tears sting and I can’t hold them back. They trickle down my cheeks at first and then pour down. Nick takes me immediately into his arms, presses my head against his warm chest. My tears are probably making his shirt damp, but I can’t stop them.
I can’t tell if it’s Rob’s death, my failed marriage or my loss of confidence I’m crying for. It’s so many things. It’s how confused I feel. It’s how weak I am. I let life take over and now I’ve got nothing left. Life happened to me and my decisions crushed me. I wish I could start over.
Nick’s cologne works through my tears and I inhale deeply, though it comes out more of a snort. I’m beyond caring. I grip his arms and continue to cry, small sobs this time. He’s murmuring things, I don’t know what, but I enjoy hearing the rumble of his voice in his chest. His fingers are rubbing across my hair. He’s not very gentle but that’s okay, I like it. It kind of distracts me from my confusion. With the heat and smell of him, my sorrow eases and I draw slowly away, grimacing at the sight of my mascara staining his shirt.
I swipe a hand across my cheek while he brushes my hair back. “I’m a mess,” I sniffle.
“No, you’re beautiful.”
I don’t believe him but he says it so sincerely that it softens me, and I can’t prevent the tiniest of smiles. His palms still rub across my cheeks, a thumb coming under my eye, probably in an attempt to fix my make-up.
Staring into his blue eyes, my pulse beats erratically. For a moment, there is no one but us. Sounds are muted but sensations are inflamed. His rough fingers rasp across my skin, making my entire body heat and I’m sure he must be able to hear my heart thud. Nick’s pupils dilate. Do mine do the same?
It happens slowly, but I’m still not ready for it. He lowers his head and his lips touch mine. It galvanizes me, like a sharp electric shock and I dig my nails into his shoulders. It’s only a small, tentative kiss but it might as well be the most passionate kiss in the world for the effect it has on me. His tongue, warm and inviting, touches my lips and we are on the path of no return.
I gasp and open my mouth to him. Nick threads his fingers into my hair, angling me for a deeper kiss. When our tongues touch, he makes a basic, raw sound in the back of his throat. I’m not sure what he was eating or drinking but he tastes amazing. Like chocolate after you’ve been on a diet.
This isn’t a tender kiss. It quickly turns erotic. My mind reels and I’m unable to focus on any coherent thought apart from the press of his chest against mine and the way my nipples harden at the contact. I bring my hands up to his jawline and touch the stubble there. He mutters my name as he pulls back slightly, only to plunder my mouth again. The sound of it on his lips, so harsh and desperate, makes my entire body pulse with need.
Breathless, I hold on as the kiss slows and he takes a moment to explore each part of my mouth to… to savor me?
When we finally part, my lips throb, along with the rest of me, and we are both panting for breath. He flattens his forehead against mine and we just sit for a moment as he cradles my face. I don’t want it to end. I don’t want to go back to my life. But I don’t want this. I can’t do this.
We’ve finally acted on the chemistry between us, in a moment of shared weakness and vulnerability, and it was such a mistake.
Maybe Nick knows this as he pulls back slowly, flicking a thumb under my chin. “Come on, we best get you home.”
Chapter Two
Nick
I blink away the sweat as I lift again. My muscles scream in protest and if my brow wasn’t dripping, I’d be able to see my grimace in the mirror stretching across the gym wall. The odor of old sneakers and metal grows stronger with each harsh inhale I take, but I savor it. To me, it smells like home. And life. There was a time I didn’t think I’d smell it ever
again.
The drops making my shirt cling to my chest remind me of Sienna’s tears as they soaked my shirt after the funeral. If I had it my way, she’d never cry again. I lift once more, teeth gritted, arms shaking. I know full well the pain will be worth it. I’ve suffered worse. Hell, once no one believed I’d stand again and now look, I’m fitter than I’ve ever been.
Lowering the weights, I pause to swipe my brow with my T-shirt. I take a moment to study my arms, pumped from the workout. I ignore my chewed up calf. The gym at base is the only place you’ll catch me in shorts. The guys here understand it and have seen far worse but no civvie wants to see the ugly scar tissue on my leg where the shrapnel gouged a hole in it. Looks of sympathy I could do without. Because really, why should anyone feel sorry for me? I made it back alive. It’s the guys that died and their families who deserve the compassion.
I smirk at my reflection. Besides, who wants to be the one guy who complains about his injury? I know Marines who have had their legs blown off and still manage to climb a fucking mountain. What do I do? Push papers. Most of the time, I’m grateful to still be a part of the military. Maybe I’m institutionalized, because the idea of being on the outside, in civilian life, doesn’t exactly fill me with joy.
But days like today—when I’m wired and edgy—are when I’d like to be out there, on patrol, eating damned sand, hunting down the enemy. The need to fight will pass eventually. Weirdly, it only seems to go when I’m with Sienna.
Taking a drink of water, I stroll over to the benches and snatch my gym bag, chucking the bottle in it and reaching for my phone. I read her message again, my heart jumping in my chest. She’s played it cool since our kiss, and I’ve barely kept mine. The memory of those soft lips, warm tongue and hot perky breasts pressed against me has kept me up every night since.
Not Another Soldier Page 2