Will patted a spot beside him, offering Jordan a seat. “My CO came to see me at the hospital. He said the diagnosis is my legs will never be good enough for active duty.”
She nodded, heart twisting. What else could he do if he couldn’t go fight? About to ask, she heard men’s voices drifting in from outside. Will reached out and took her hand, squeezing gently. He caught her eyes and winked as three uniformed soldiers came in, escorted by Grams.
“Sir,” Will said smartly. “You remember my mother, Donna Larkin, and my good friend, Jordan Kelly?”
“Yes, Lieutenant, I recall all these lovely ladies.” He nodded politely at Donna and Jordan. “Lieutenant, I’ve brought your new orders.”
“Sir? I’m to report somewhere?” Will glanced at his encased leg, over to Jordan, and back to his CO.
His commanding officer shook a brown envelope, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “You’re being honorably discharged from service, and are hereby ordered to report indefinitely to your family here in Cimarron Shores. You’ve served your country well, son. Job well done.” He and the other two officers synchronized a crisp salute.
Will returned the salute and Jordan felt hot tears pricking her eyes and her heart thudding. The Captain handed the envelope over to her, his smile big. “Copeland has been transferred to the nearest military holding facility, pending his trial. Fortunately, your cell phone was still on and recorded everything. Between that, several witnesses, and some street surveillance cameras, my guess is he’ll end up at Leavenworth.” He saluted Donna again. “Ma’am.” Spinning, he turned to go, the other two officers following suit. He stopped at the threshold, looking over his shoulder.
“And, Larkin, one more thing: treat the girl right.”
“Sir, yes, sir, I intend to.” Will smiled as he squeezed Jordan’s hand tight, warmth passing between them.
The tears that threatened to fall before spilled over as Will searched her face with his whiskey-colored eyes. She gripped the envelope containing his orders of a medical discharge. Her pulse raced as she realized he was no longer forbidden to her. They didn’t have to leave. Happiness splashed over her like warm sunshine as she envisioned more dinners and dancing and sexy songs. Maybe she’d find out if he were ticklish.
Suddenly she realized he was drawing little circles on the back of her hand. Excitement spiked through her like electricity.
“So how do you feel about having a steady boyfriend again, Jordan? Someone who thinks the world of you.”
She glanced over at Donna and Grams. They both looked lost in their own tasks, but their smiles were big as the ocean, giving them away. She turned back to Will and wiped the tears away.
“I’d like that a lot.”
About the Author
Ryan Jo Summers writes contemporary romance, non-fiction, and magazine articles. When not busy writing, she operates a pet care service. She is always craving chocolate, coffee, and frequent trips to the country. Her hobbies include birding, chess, crafts, houseplants (about 70 at last count), painting, reading, word-find puzzles, and writing poetry. She lives in Western North Carolina in a century-old cottage with a menagerie of rescues pets.
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I Never Told You
By Poppy Dubois
Jill and I got to Pete’s early. She said she wanted to get the best table, but I know my best friend. She wanted to have a drink to calm her nerves before this mystery man and his buddy showed up for their “date.” I’d broken my Friday night plans with Egyptian cotton sheets and reality television shows after a hellishly long day to play wing-woman, largely because of Pete’s. Jill’s mystery man already earned points in my book for picking the bar and suggesting they each bring a friend. Pete’s was the kind of place where the beer was cold and cheap, the music was loud and classic, and where everyone from bearded hipsters to old-school bikers actually used the pool table. He clearly wasn’t trying to show off by choosing some hot spot.
The floor was littered with peanut shells. The air was thick with the distinct smell of stale smoke and spilled beer. The waitress was none too friendly when she came for our drink orders. Her black shorts and skin-tight white tank top did not leave a lot to the imagination.
“What do you want?” She popped her gum, punctuating her annoyance.
“I’ll have a rum and diet,” Jill answered. That was her drink of choice. Not too fancy, not too trashy. Just a hint of cool girl.
“Whatever cheap light beer you have on tap.” I wasn’t worried about being fancy or trashy. I just like the sudsy tickle.
The waitress walked away without another word.
“Okay, so tell me about the guy you met.” I wasn’t going to guilt Jill too hard for yanking me away from home and the comforts of my window AC unit. Yet. “You know I planned to stay in tonight. I only answered your call ’cause I thought you were bleeding out on the side of the road somewhere.”
“No offense, but I’m not sure you’d be the first person I’d call if I were bleeding out. I’ve seen your sewing skills. My life would be over for sure.”
Jill and I both laughed. We met in law school when we joined the same study group. It wasn’t too long before our sarcastic senses of humor bonded us. We became inseparable, even though we were also complete opposites. She was Susie Homemaker, who could whip up a complete meal from scratch in half an hour. I could barely boil water. She could sew, I could not. She was organized…and so on. Her hair and makeup were always flawless. My hair practically pulled itself into a ponytail. We were the yin and yang of best friends. And she was the only person who could drag me out on a Friday night when I had only wanted to stay in.
“Yeah, yeah.” My voice came out in a cackle-like snort laugh. “So tell me how you met a guy at the post office. I have so many questions. Why were you at the post office? Does he work there?”
“No, he does not work there. Though, the shorts they wear are kind of cute. And you know I have a thing for a man in a uniform. But, no. He was in line ahead of me. The line was, like, forever long and we started chatting. He was super cute. Kind of nerdy with big black glasses. Not pocket protector nerdy. But like hip nerdy. Did I mention he was super cute?”
I tapped my lips with my finger. “I think that rings a bell.”
“Do I look okay in this light?” Jill looked around the bar nervously.
“It’s so dim in here that I don’t think the light makes much of a difference.”
“Well, that makes me feel better.” Jill stuck her lips out in a pout.
“Jill, you look great. This guy has already seen you in the fluorescent light of the post office, so I think he knows what you look like. Unless of course his glasses were smudged when he saw you.”
Jill laughed as she threw a salt packet at me. “You’re a jerk. Why did I ask you to come?”
“So you look even better by comparison?”
“Oh, that’s right.”
We both dissolved into a fit of laughter. The waitress brought our drinks over and set them on the table without a word. Despite her bad attitude, the cold beer was exactly what I needed. It was refreshing. Rejuvenating.
“I think he’s here,” I whispered.
Jill’s face went pale and her body stiffened. “Really? How does he look?”
“Well, he’s not your normal type. You said he had a bushy gray beard and a beer gut, right?”
Jill turned around and saw the old guy who entered the bar. Black suspenders held up his faded blue jeans and his beard nearly reached his belly. Jill had chosen to sit with her back to the door so I could scope the guy out before he saw her. I couldn’t let that go to waste. One small prank served her right for dragging me out tonight.
“You’re
a jerk. I bet that guy would be cool to hang out with, though. Imagine the stories he has to tell!”
After a few more sips of her drink, Jill started to relax. Her smile was a bit more natural and her shoulders less rigid.
The door to the bar opened again.
“Oh my God,” I whispered.
“Is he here?” Jill asked turning in her seat.
“Benji.” My voice was barely audible. It had been ten years since I’d seen him last, but I remembered him as clear as if it had been only ten minutes before. I took him in as he stood illuminated in the neon bar lights. My eyes must have been as big as saucers. I quickly wondered if there was a back exit where I could leave. Maybe Jill could tell them that I had the runs or it was that time of the month. Both of those would be better than facing what was walking toward me. Was the air getting thick? Had the restaurant always been spinning? I was going into full-blown panic, melt-down mode. I suddenly became an awkward girl of twenty and didn’t know what to do. And then there he was, standing at our table.
“Holy shit.” His voice still had the same husky tone that I remembered.
We both froze, staring at each other, not moving. Jill stood up as the second man walked up to her.
“Post office girl.” Robbie beamed as he spoke, proud of his little joke.
“Post office guy.” Jill beamed right back at him.
“I’m Robbie, and I take it you two already know each other?” Robbie said to me as he stuck his hand across the table for me to shake.
I forced my eyes off Benji and onto the smiling face of Robbie as I shook his hand.
“RaRa.”
How dare he use my old nickname.
“It’s Sandy now, Benji.” I tried to steady my shaking voice.
“Just Ben.”
We stared at each other again. I could feel the blood rushing through my body. Every nerve was on fire.
“Hey, Just Ben, I’m Jill.” She reached behind Robbie to shake Benji’s hand, but he barely acknowledged her or her joke. If it had been anybody other than Benji, I would have laughed at her attempt to break the awkwardness. But it wasn’t anybody else and I was still lost in processing what was going on.
“Dude, are you going to sit?” Robbie asked his friend. His tone was less than pleasant. A little more on the insistent side.
“I’m going to get a drink at the bar.” Benji turned around and walked to the far side of the bar. Unfortunately for us both, there was no way for him to hide in the near-empty place and we kept making awkward eye contact.
“So, you two are friends?” Robbie laughed at his own joke after Benji left.
“Benji, or Ben I guess, and I go way back.” I lifted my glass to my lips and finished the remaining half of the beer.
“I’ll be right back.” Robbie smiled apologetically at Jill as he walked toward his friend.
“What was that?” Jill’s voice was agitated.
“I guess I never told you about Benji? The guy who broke my heart?”
“I don’t remember that name. I remember Frank. Javier. Colin. No Benji.”
“Jeez, I’ve dated a lot of jerks.” I was not happy at her bringing up those names when my blood was already boiling.
“Benji was probably the worst of all of them.”
“Why don’t I know about him?” Jill’s voice went from concerned friend to accusation in point three seconds flat.
“I don’t like to talk about him. It really, really sucked. Oh, God! Robbie is bringing him back over.”
“Okay, quick. What do you think of Robbie? He’s cute, right?”
“He could use better taste in friends. But, yeah, he’s cute.” I shrugged. In a better mood, I would have gushed with her. But, unfortunately, today was not that day. I had never regretted leaving my house more than I did now.
And then he was standing in front of me at the table once again. He still looked the same, just a decade older. Same buzz cut black hair. Same handsome face. Same pale skin. Same slender shoulders, though he seemed a little more muscular under his white t-shirt. Apparently, he’d found the gym. The corners of his eyes had the same crinkle, which told me that he still laughed a lot in different circumstances. I tried to avoid looking at him. The beer glass in front of me was incredibly exciting at that particular moment. And when I did quickly raise my eyes to his face, I saw he had a similar fascination with the floor.
“Clearly you guys have a history. Is there any way that we can get over it and all hang out tonight?” Robbie sat down as he spoke.
“I can just go,” Benji said as he looked longingly at the door.
“Typical,” I said under my breath.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Benji’s voice was hard.
“You know what that means.” My voice was just as hard.
We stared at each other. If he had picked up the ability to read minds in the past decade, then he would see all the terrible things I was imagining about him right at that moment. I’m pretty sure the daggers shooting from my eyes were an indication. But the daggers he shot back at me seemed misplaced. He hurt me, not the other way around. He had no right to be angry.
“Ben, sit. Let’s bury the hatchet. I didn’t think this was how the date was going to go, but apparently, we are going to play therapy right now.” Robbie jabbed the table with his finger. The hipster had seemed so mild. I was actually surprised to hear the authoritative tone in his voice.
“So, this is a date?” Jill’s voice was back to purring. Her smile was radiant.
“Well, I mean, yeah, if you want it to be.” Meek Robbie returned.
“Of course, I want it to be a date.”
“We can sit next to each other for an hour and be civil.” I didn’t believe the words as they left my mouth.
Benji said nothing as he crossed around the table and pulled out the chair next to me. His already pale skin paled even further as he stared at me.
“What?” Civility and my snappy question probably didn’t go hand in hand, but I couldn’t control it.
“You’re in a wheelchair.”
“Wait, what?” I feigned shock as I looked at my legs. “Well, crap, you’re right. Look at that.”
“Since when?”
“Almost seven years now.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” His tone was softer this time.
“That’s a joke, right?” I laughed, but it wasn’t a snort this time, thank God. It was a you’re-so-ridiculous-that-you-make-me-laugh laugh.
“I’m not laughing.” Benji’s face softened some, but the anger was still lurking in his eyes.
“I guess you weren’t high on the list of people to let know.”
I looked across the table to see Robbie and Jill staring. Robbie’s mouth was literally hanging open as he watched the show across from him. Benji sat down next to me, saying nothing.
“Should we talk about the elephant in the room?” What was Robbie, a shrink? “I’m a therapist, I can help you guys talk.” Of course. It would have been better if Robbie were a medieval historian and he could help us work it out through a duel to the death. That sounded way less painful than talking.
“It’s easy. Your friend is a jerk. End of story.”
“Oh, I was the problem.” Benji turned in his chair to face me.
“I’m glad you agree.” I looked him right in his anger-filled, sexily smoldering eyes. Damnit! How could I still find anything about him sexy after everything he put me through? I guess just because I hated the man didn’t mean that I wasn’t able to see that he was still incredibly handsome.
“That was a question.”
“Didn’t sound like one to me.”
“I don’t even know what’s going on.” Jill looked as if she wanted to cry. This was not how she planned her night, which made me feel bad. But, this was not exactly my fault. I didn’t invite the spawn of Satan.
“Okay, so clearly you two had a bad break-up. How long did you date?”
“We didn’t date.” That st
atement came in unison from both me and Benji.
“Wait, what?” Jill’s face was a beautiful picture of confusion.
“We didn’t date.” I made the statement that time. Benji just stared at his drink on the table. I took a long swig from my beer. “He was my best friend.”
“Hey!” Jill exclaimed.
“Before you, obviously.”
“So what happened to make you hate each other?”
“Good question, Robbie! What did happen? I sure as hell don’t know.” I took another long pull of the beer. There wasn’t enough beer in the bar to get me through this night.
Benji and I met in junior college. We took a class together and had been study partners. Before long, we were best friends. We were always together. I watched him finish off his drink and realized that that had obviously changed over the years. The boy I knew back then was so sweet. And so funny. We had the same immature sense of humor, which had helped forge our immediate bond. He was the guy I could talk to about anything. He helped me get over dating disasters and I helped him dress better for dates. When my mom got sick, he was the one who sat with me in the hospital. When his dad had a sudden heart attack and passed away, I cradled him for weeks. For two years, we were closer than family. And then he left. With no explanation. No call. No nothing.
“I don’t think we need to talk about this.” Benji motioned the waitress for another round.
“Why not, Benji? I have nothing to hide.”
A minute of silence passed. ZZ Top played in the background as we all sat still. There was so much to be said, but it seemed as if none of us knew the right words.
“Chrissy didn’t like you.” Ben’s voice was soft. His eyes remained focused on the drink in his hand. They seemed softer now. Less angry.
“Ah, the age-old battle of girlfriend versus female best friend. Textbook struggle we practically learn in Psych 101.”
“Well, yeah. My best friend was a hot chick. Of course, she was jealous.”
Craving Forbidden (Craving Series Book 8) Page 11