“Have some. Peace offering.” He tipped the bottle in her direction. Her cool green gaze looked from him to the Coke. Then she took the bottle.
“You’re lucky I’m very thirsty, Guthrie. So I think I’ll take you up on that.”
He watched her drink the Coke. Watched her pretty lips close around the rim and her slim neck extend as she tipped the bottle back to swallow. He wanted to place his lips on the arc of her neck, feel her soft skin, and inhale her clean, heady scent that reminded him of sunshine and magnolias. She took a few hearty glugs, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and handed it back to him. “Thanks,” she said, trying to stifle a burp but failing.
He almost smiled, wondering how a soft, girlie thing like her could make a sound like a truck driver belching after a beer. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I overreacted. I’m seeing a psychiatrist for some issues I’m having after my injury.” Some issues was putting it mildly. How about night sweats, nightmares, startling at noises as simple as the lawn mower next door. Not to mention the anger. Hell, he was angry with everyone, especially himself and his effing useless leg most of all. “I wanted to keep it private. My own pride, I guess.”
“Just to let you know, I wouldn’t tell anyone. Your business is your business.” She eyeballed the Coke. “Can I have another sip?”
“I know you wouldn’t tell anyone.” He hated her knowing how weak he was.
He took a swig himself and passed it to her. Their fingers touched as she took the bottle from him. Such soft, forgiving hands. Such knowing, kind eyes, like an angel. Suddenly, he wanted to get lost in her. Feel her under him, looking at him like that and believing that somehow, the broken pieces of his life would eventually come back together. The need punched his gut so hard, he nearly lost his breath.
“Thank you,” was all he could manage.
“For what?” she asked.
“For not being angry with me.” He stared into her eyes, hoping she knew he didn’t mean sorry for the past sixty seconds, or today, but for all he’d done to her over the past few months. A real apology rose to his lips but faded fast.
It would be wrong to dump all his shit on her. Expect her to save him—because she couldn’t. It was a battle he’d have to fight himself. He looked around at families getting out of their cars, headed for the restroom or to walk their dogs on the dog paths. He wondered where they were going. Judging by the carriers atop the car roofs, most of them were on a spring vacation. Forgetting their worries and problems. Lucky them.
“Don’t mention it.” Her stomach grumbled again.
“There’s a nice little restaurant about fifteen minutes up the road. Want to stop and get some lunch? Then you can tell me how your interview really went.”
She looked surprised. “What makes you think it didn’t go well?”
He shrugged. “Just a gut feeling.” He had a lot of those with her. Maybe it was something as simple as knowing what it meant when she worried her lip or crinkled her forehead up when she had something on her mind. “Besides, didn’t you say you wanted to check out an antique store or two for a wedding gift?” Her face lit up. He hated all forms of shopping, but by God, he’d suffer through it if it made her forget her own troubles.
She flashed a beautiful grin and handed him back the Coke. “I thought you’d never ask.”
…
“How do you know this place?” Cat asked as they sat down at an umbrella-covered table shaded from the hot May afternoon sun. They were at a sidewalk café on the main street, which was lined with quaint shops. Containers of bright red geraniums hung in rectangular boxes along the white iron fence that separated the seating area from the sidewalk.
“I know this place because it’s got the best burgers in the state.” Preston looked up from the menu. “You aren’t vegetarian, are you?”
Cat shook her head. “I’d love a burger.”
“Want an appetizer?”
“I’m fine, thanks.” Actually, her stomach disagreed—loudly—but she didn’t want to make a fuss about feeling starved.
“Okay.” Preston summoned a waiter, a young guy of college age, who was happy to take their drink and appetizer orders. Preston held up the menu and pointed to things as he talked. “Can we please have an order of your mushroom bruschetta and some of this cheese dip and—what would you like to drink, Cat?”
Cat hesitated as he read off half the appetizer menu. “Water’s fine.”
“Okay. We’ll have two waters and two piña coladas. Thanks.” He ordered quickly and with authority.
She leaned over and asked in a quiet voice, “We’re drinking at lunch?”
“You look like you could use a drink. You still like piña coladas, don’t you?”
She loved piña coladas. She wasn’t sure which surprised her more—the fact that he remembered her favorite drink or that he knew she needed one.
After the crappy day she was having, she wasn’t foolish enough to nurse the illusion of being a couple, sitting together outside on a warm spring day, no matter how tempting that was. Truthfully, right now she could sure use a friend along with that drink.
She pretended to read the menu, but she already knew she wanted the biggest-ass cheeseburger on it. That gave her plenty of time to assess him over the top. The irony stung—to be sitting in a quaint restaurant with a man who knew her so well yet wanted nothing—romantically, anyway—to do with her.
She wasn’t the kind of woman to hold his interest. He was a player who’d never committed to any woman. Why had she expected it would be any different with her?
She studied him studying his menu. There was a heaviness that remained over him like a cloud. A crease in his brow, more lines around his eyes, maybe from the physical pain, but she imagined it was from a whole lot more. The more she spent time with him, the more she saw the exhausting weight that seemed to pull at him from the inside. If she could help him clear his inner burdens away, would he want her? Finn and Cat’s sisters would call her a fool, but a sense that pricked at her from deep in her gut wouldn’t quit. Breaking through to this stubborn, powerful man would not be an easy task, but what if she dared to try?
“How do you like your burger?” she asked out of the blue.
“I’m an everything kind of guy.”
“There’s no topping you don’t like?”
“I like all of it, all kinds of ways. Depends on my mood. How about you?”
Cat gulped. Discussing burgers was not sexual. So why was that all she could think about? Also how could she admit to him that the only way she ever ate them was plain? “I—I guess I’m tired of same-old, same-old.”
“Another reason you need me to find you a better boyfriend. Maybe it’s time you tried some new experiences.”
Wow, it was getting really warm out here. She used the menu to fan herself.
Their drinks and appetizers arrived. He didn’t hesitate to pluck out a piece of cheesy, mushroom-covered bruschetta and place it on her plate. “So what happened at the job interview?” he asked.
She rotated the menu uneasily against the white tabletop. “I walked out.”
He laughed. A loud, weird, real laugh she hadn’t heard in a long time.
She swatted at him with the menu. “Not funny.”
He put his hands over hers, forcing her to stop playing with the menu. His touch was supposed to be comforting, but it wasn’t. It was electrifying. She found it hard to focus on his words. “Oh, come on,” he said, his mouth turning up in a grin. “It is a little funny. You’re the most by-the-book person I know. This is completely out of character.”
He wasn’t pulling his hands away. Tingles were zipping up her arm and traveling to other, farther-away parts. It was getting hard to converse, let alone breathe. “It’s not that out of character. I mean, I did lend Maddie five thousand dollars out of my honeymoon account to buy Nick in a bachelor auction. So I do have my moments.”
His hands were big and warm over hers. They felt so good. Wait, what was
she doing? She pulled her hands away. He was saying something she wasn’t following at all. “Um, what did you say?”
“I asked why you did it. Left your interview.”
She tucked her hands in her lap where they’d be safe. “I suppose that’s another one of my faults. I tend to believe my gut feelings. Sometimes that gets me in big trouble.” Like now, she was suddenly very aware of his deep blue gaze focused on her and only her. For a moment, their gazes locked. That sent a wash of heat cascading into her face. Every cell in her body went on full alert.
He broke the staring contest and cleared his throat. Could this get any more awkward? “What was off about it?” he asked.
“That’s the thing, Preston. Everyone was friendly. Welcoming, even. They appreciated my experience from Philadelphia. There were equal numbers of women on the committee as well as men. And their paper isn’t in jeopardy of being cut down in size.”
“But?”
“But I wasn’t…feeling it. I mean, maybe I should say I was feeling it, in a long-term way. I envisioned myself at forty, sitting behind my desk with my potted plant, rushing to get my copy done for the day.” She paused, looking a little sad. “I didn’t like that image of myself. For no other reason than it feels like it doesn’t fit. Does that make any sense?”
He let out a soft exhale. His face looked pained, as if something she’d said had struck him. “There are times we see visions of ourselves that aren’t who we really are.” He glanced down at his leg.
“How did it happen?” she asked softly.
Their burgers arrived then, saving him from answering. He dumped a load of ketchup on his already-loaded burger and took a bite. At least now she knew how he liked his burger.
“It’s okay,” she said, ready to dig into her own. “We can change the subject.”
He put down the burger and wiped his mouth with his napkin. “I took a bullet for one of my squadron mates. I jumped in instinctively, but I wasn’t quite fast enough to get us both out of the way. It caught me in the leg and shattered my knee.”
“What about your buddy?”
“He and his wife just had a baby girl.”
Her eyes began to tear up suddenly.
He shifted in his seat. “Oh, come on now, don’t cry.”
“I’m not crying.” She swiped at the corners of her eyes.
“I bet you cry at sappy old movies. And weddings.”
“Don’t forget baptisms, baby showers, and bar mitzvahs, too.”
“Well then, get ready to open the floodgates. Want to know the best part?”
“What’s that?”
“They asked me to be godfather.” Then the smart-ass handed over his napkin.
She used it to daub at her eyes even as she rolled them at him. He sat across from her and chuckled.
“You’re a hero,” she said. “Whatever bad feelings you have about the war, at least you know you did a good thing. A really good thing.”
“It’s not the people you helped that gets you. It’s the ones you couldn’t save.”
Their gazes caught again across the tiny table. He had the most expressive blue eyes. The same color as the spring sky behind him, and so full of feeling. Cat could not imagine what he had gone through in combat. She wished she could say something, anything funny to bring the laughter back into them, but words escaped her.
“I was doing my job,” he said in a detached tone. “And speaking of doing my job, I found you a prospect. To date.” He pulled out an iPad from his briefcase. “An investment banker. I’ve known him a long time. I can vouch for the fact that he’s a great guy.”
“Oh, wonderful.” She rubbed her hands together in faux excitement, but deep down, she didn’t have the heart for it.
The man on the screen was white-haired. Not gray on the sides or even gray all over but as stark white as a bleached sheet flapping in the breeze.
“I’ve known Carlos since I graduated from college.”
“Is he your grandfather?”
“Ha ha. Very funny.”
“Has he been married?”
“He’s a widower. He’s fifty-three.”
“Kids?”
“Five.”
She shut the iPad. “This does not count as a genuine prospect.”
“I can’t help it if you shallowly reject good candidates based solely on their appearance.”
“I am not shallow.”
He shrugged. “I don’t know what else I would call it.”
“I’m not attracted to fifty-three-year-olds. And he doesn’t even look fifty-three. He looks seventy-three.”
“Your problem, not mine.”
“You suck at this!”
“Maybe you can help me narrow my search by telling me what you’re looking for in a guy.”
“Kind, ambitious, cute. Not a grandfather. Someone who loves me just the way I am.”
“Who wouldn’t love you the way you are?”
For a second, her heart sped up before she reminded herself he was being polite and friendly. Plus, he was busy attacking his burger. “Robert was always trying to change me. Telling me to be more outgoing. Or more frugal. To sit up straighter.” She took a sip of her drink. “To get breast implants.”
Preston choked on his burger, then took a quick sip of his drink. “That bastard.”
Heat flooded her face. His reaction was swift and merciless, and it pleased her to her core. “I kept thinking it was all the job stress he was under. I made allowances, but looking back, I was only making excuses. Maybe I thought I could settle for unexciting and comfortable because it was easier than starting over.”
“You’re perfect just the way you are,” Preston said, “and one day some man is going to realize that, Cat. Until then, don’t you dare settle for anyone less.”
His eyes sparked with conviction. Emotions flickered across his face that she couldn’t interpret—regret, anger, and something else much darker. Want. She could swear he looked at her the way a man looks at a woman he wants to kiss, long and hard and deep.
Her man compass was haywire, she couldn’t let herself forget. Robert had done a number on her, and she didn’t trust herself anymore. Didn’t trust what she knew and what she didn’t. It was that damn imagination of hers again, wanting to whisk her off to fantasyland when she needed to stay fully tethered to earth.
Maybe his comments had stirred her. Or maybe the piña colada had made her talky. “I’m not perfect. I’m a people pleaser. I had an opportunity to take my honeymoon ticket and go to Hawaii alone, but I didn’t. Do you know why?”
He stopped eating and looked at her. “Why didn’t you?”
“It seemed too…extravagant. I felt bad. Like people would think…I was sticking it to him by going by myself, so I canceled everything and gave him half the money back. But I should have gone, if only to get the hell away from everyone who thought he was the perfect man for me, because he wasn’t. Not at all. So next time I break an engagement, I’m definitely doing what I want and not listening to what everyone else thinks I want.”
“You should have gone without the bastard to Hawaii. Did you at least use your half of the money?”
She shrugged. “Kind of.” What she did with the money was private. She hadn’t told anyone except her family.
His thick brows raised in curiosity. “What’d you use it for?”
“Oh, just forget it.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Nothing, really.”
“Come on. Tell me.”
“Okay, fine. A few weeks later I flew to Vegas, stayed at the Bellagio, and bought front-row tickets for Celine Dion.”
“Wow. Risky.” He shook his head, grinning. Like it wouldn’t have been his first wild choice for sure. “Did you go by yourself?”
“Yep.” Cat didn’t care what he thought. “I saw her show three nights in a row. It was fabulous.”
Preston laughed, pretty heartily. It created little crinkles around his eyes that were very, very appealing. “Look, you did what
you wanted about Celine, and it was right for you. Don’t worry about the interview today. Your gut was telling you something important, and you listened to it.”
Right. If she listened to what her gut was telling her about him, she’d have tackled him before their food arrived and they’d both have ended up under the table. How would that be for risky?
Before she could respond, the dessert menu arrived.
“Speaking of living dangerously, want to split a sundae?” she asked.
“I’m watching my figure,” he said, patting his washboard abs again.
“Oh, c’mon, soldier. Have some fun. It’s only ice cream.”
“Fine. You order.”
“Is there any kind of ice cream you don’t like?” she asked.
His mouth turned up into a slow grin. “I like it all,” he said, his eyes roving up and down her body. She felt her cheeks heat again, and she pretended to concentrate on the menu. What was it about him and talking about food that got her so aroused?
“You’re certainly easy to please,” Cat said. Robert wasn’t, and she’d often blamed herself for not living up to his expectations. It had taken her too long to realize he’d demanded unreasonable things.
Preston excused himself to go to the restroom, and Cat ordered a sundae with four different flavors of ice cream topped with hot fudge and caramel sauce. She felt a little reckless and dangerous. Besides, after that cheeseburger, who was even counting calories anymore?
As soon as he returned to their table, she reached over and put a hand over his eyes.
“What are you doing?” The hard planes of his face shifted under her hands, and she fought a sudden urge to trace down his solid cheekbones, cup his beautiful face between her palms.
She wasn’t really sure what she was doing, but it was too late not to go with it. She lifted her hand away. “I’m going to have you taste a flavor of ice cream, and I want you to guess what it is.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. Seriously. Your body language is telling me you want to have more fun. Unless the war did something to your taste buds?”
A Man of Honor Page 7