by Ellie Danes
Nathan thought about that, his mouth screwed down into a tight frown. "I'm not sure it was a bender. I just can't remember. But, no, it wasn't caused by a woman."
I taped the gauze into place and reluctantly stepped back. He hadn't answered my question about a girlfriend, and I had to force myself to let go of his arm. Sometimes it felt like everyone in the world had found the perfect mate except me.
It was ridiculous, but part of what I liked about working at the diner was the hope it allowed. Strangers blew through every day, and I foolishly believed there was a chance that one day one of those strangers would change my life. Janice was content with one-night stands, no strings attached, but I wanted more. My sister would have teased me for still believing in fairytales.
Nathan tugged his t-shirt back on. "You know, having a girlfriend is not easy for a SEAL. I find that women don't like being reserved just for weekends. And I'm not much of a poet over text message."
I shrugged, pretending I wasn't relieved to hear he was single. "I bet it's just more fun to be single. I've heard stories about what happens when a group of military men comes to town for weekend leave."
Nathan chuckled. "Wichita isn't really on our party route."
"But Topeka is?" I asked.
His smile slipped a little. I was shocked when he caught my hand and tugged me closer. Nathan studied my fingers, turning my small hand over in his wide palm. Little bolts of electricity raced up my arm from his innocent touches.
"I'm actually not much of a partier. I don't know what happened," he said.
Nathan looked so sad that I lifted my other hand and laid it on his stubbled cheek. "It'll come back to you. You just need a little time. And some sleep."
"Thanks for letting me stay here," Nathan said. His voice had dropped to a soft timber that sent fissures of pleasure up and down my spine.
My logical brain screamed that he was a stranger, a very big and very strong stranger, but my body was not listening. The hand I had lightly laid on his cheek slipped around the back of his neck. I stepped closer, standing between his long, stretched-out legs.
Nathan shifted on the stool and drew me in. He lifted my hand and placed it on his chest, leaving his hands free to find the curves of my hips. I still had to tip my chin to meet his eyes as he was much taller than me even sitting down.
His blue eyes darkened, heavy-lidded, and he leaned down to brush his lips against my startled mouth. I gasped then tipped up on my toes to try the same. His fingers tightened on my waist, and his shoulders flexed under my hands.
"Bree," he whispered against my lips.
"Yes," I answered. "Please."
The kiss was like turning the ignition on a race car. All I could hear was the roaring in my ears as my pulse leaped out of control. Nathan growled, trying to control himself until I pressed against his chest and wrapped my arms around his neck.
Then he stood up, lifting me easily to wrap my legs around his waist. "Bedroom?"
I nodded to the short hallway, and we were there in five long strides. I couldn't contain myself and slipped my tongue along his lips, tasting more and more. We didn't even make it to the bed.
Nathan stumbled then pressed me against the wall. My waitress dress slipped up to my waist before alarm bells went off in my head.
What was I doing?
One kiss and I was ready to let Nathan, a complete stranger, take what I hadn’t felt any man was worthy to even know about. I didn’t go around telling people I was a virgin at my age. What was I going to tell Nathan?
He felt me tense up and released his grip immediately. As I sunk back down to the floor, he gave me one last soft kiss. Then he pulled away and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Thanks for helping me, Bree. Good night.”
All I could do was nod as he stepped back into the living rom and contemplated the sagging couch. I shut the bedroom door behind him and collapsed onto the floor in a heap of embarrassment.
Chapter Three
Nathan
The sight of the road made me tense. I'd been there before but the dream had twisted it into cold and barren stretch. I knew what was coming next but it hit me like a punch in the stomach.
A small girl stood in the middle of the road. My sister, my little sister, smiling at the puffy clouds above her and the way the wind chased leaves across the ground. She didn't even notice where she stood or the danger that barreled toward her.
When I called to her, she turned around. Now she was Maggie, the girl from the crumpled photograph. I tried to run to her but my legs were lead, the landscape stretched unexpectedly, and the dream turned into the same nightmare that had tortured me before.
Waving my arms and screaming, I tried to warn her about the truck. It drove on blindly, gaining speed, and I was never going to make it to the road in time. . .
That's when I woke up.
The panic from the dream turned into a sheen of sweat as my eyes darted all over the strange room. Where was I?
Bree shifted next to me, and I froze. It all rushed back: the yawning gap in my memory, the clinic in Topeka, hitchhiking, and the diner in Wichita. And Bree, her lovely smile saving me from my stretch of bad luck.
I stood up and edged towards the bedroom door. Bree had shut it but it didn’t latch properly and I was able to swing the door open and look in on my hostess.
She slept alone in her bed, like a fairytale princess in pristine white sheets. I felt a tug of lust again as I caught sight of her creamy bare shoulder in the moonlight.
Why had she pulled away?
It had been a mistake, kissing her, but I had needed to taste her lips. I’d come on too strong, every woman I’d ever been with had accused me of that. I normally didn’t care enough to feel bad about my fast approach.
Too bad, because Bree was really stunning.
She turned over and then settled back down with a light sigh, and I waited to make sure she really was asleep. When her breathing fell into a deep and regular rhythm, I edged out of the room. As much as I was tempted to wrap Bree in my arms again and fall back asleep, there was no way I could escape that dream. It would be hours, if not a day or two, before I got any more rest.
I eased my way back into the living room, grateful when there was no loud creaking from the uneven floorboards. It was a short shuffle down the narrow hallway to Bree's small, galley kitchen. There I turned on the small light above her sink and took a long drink of water straight from the tap.
It was hard not to be curious when little bits of Bree's life were all around me. I knew it was rude to snoop but I needed to get my mind back on the present. And I was curious. What kind of woman could be so generous to a complete stranger?
A candid photograph of Bree next to a silvery lake caught my eye. The skimpy yellow bikini she wore reminded me just how passionate Bree had kissed me. She radiated a sex appeal that she seemed completely oblivious to. It was the same in the photograph. The other young woman had the same hair and build—maybe they were sisters?—but she was trying too hard in an awkward pin-up pose. Bree just stood there smiling, and she was stunning.
I dragged my eyes away from the photograph and confirmed the other woman must be Bree's sister. She reappeared in the older family photographs with Bree and their mother and father. Where were the recent family pictures?
I glanced out into Bree's tiny living room, but other than on the crowded freezer door, there were no other photographs. Her whole life seemed jumbled across the small, economy appliance. There were unfinished shopping lists, a work schedule with changes written in pink pen, and buried deep behind a wad of coupons was an official-looking letter.
I peeled back the layers carefully to reveal a college acceptance letter. From two years ago.
"It was supposed to motivate me," Bree said. She leaned on the door jamb, trapping me in the small kitchen. "Now it's just a reminder of how life keeps moving and things get lost in the shuffle."
"It's still there," I said. "Must still be a drea
m of yours."
Bree gave a soft snort. "More like a pipe dream."
Her cynicism was so brittle, a thin protection against something that still hurt. I didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up. I was just thirsty."
The small apartment was just beginning to fill with gray pre-dawn light. I spied the clock on the oven and winced. There was no way waitresses were on the same schedule as someone used to life on a Naval base.
"Well, the best thing I've learned from working at the diner is how to make a tasty cup of coffee," Bree said.
She stepped into the kitchen but I stopped her. "No, I'm fine. I drank some water. You can go back to bed."
"You look wide awake. What are you going to do?" Bree asked.
"Make you breakfast in bed?" I asked.
Bree smiled. "Sorry but that is something I'm going to need to see to believe. It's not every day I have a man cooking for me in my own kitchen."
I tugged open her refrigerator. "Only on weekends?"
"Very funny." Bree stepped back to sit down on one of the mismatched stools at the kitchen counter. "Actually, you're the first."
"The first to cook you breakfast? You need to go out with better men," I said.
"No. I mean, you're the first man I've had here. Not just in my kitchen but here in my apartment." Bree studied her fingernails.
Her shy admission made me smile but I hid it by digging through her refrigerator shelves. I was already feeling guilty as hell, but the idea of being welcomed where no other man had been before pleased me.
"At least let me make the coffee," Bree said, jumping off her stool.
She joined me in the kitchen, and I realized just how small a space it was. I stood up and juggled a carton of eggs, a hunk of cheese, and the fresh red pepper I had found. As I turned to put everything on the counter, my bare arm brushed Bree's silken skin.
She'd slipped on a white cotton bra, a prim white tank top, and a pair of long floral shorts. Her long, thick hair was back up in a tidy ponytail, leaving her delicious neck and shoulders bare.
I couldn't resist dropping a kiss on her shoulder, seeing as it was right next to mine.
Bree blushed but played it cool. "There's some ham in the 'fridge, too. If you're making an omelet."
I turned back to the refrigerator to find it. "So, are you going to tell me what it was for?"
"What? Oh, the college course?" Bree asked.
"Cooking school?"
Bree laughed. "Can you imagine ending up at that diner after wanting to be a chef? That'd be awful."
She started the coffee pot and leaned on the small kitchen counter. I resisted the urge to lean over her for a kiss. Bree really had no idea how sexy she was.
"So, I'm no good at guessing." I pulled a mixing bowl out of a top cupboard and started to crack the eggs.
"Nursing," Bree said. "I wanted to become a nurse."
"Not going for the easy grade, huh," I said.
Bree helped chop up the red pepper and showed me where she kept her spices. I dropped some butter in a frying pan and soon the omelet was taking shape.
As we waited, standing side by side at the tiny stove, I pressed Bree for more. "What made you decide on nursing?"
Bree shrugged. "After you, ah, know someone who's been in an accident, you dream about knowing how to help them. Like I said, it was just a pipe dream."
I didn't press about the accident, but I wondered if it had anything to do with the discontinuation of family photographs.
"You can still become a nurse," I said.
"I don't know. Not much has worked out for me the past few years. And I'm not sure being that tied down suits me anymore. Right now, I think I'd be happier if my life was only a little more exciting." Bree pulled out two plates.
I divided up the omelet. "I'd be happier if I could remember just how exciting my life has been the last few days."
Bree nodded to my discarded coat as we sat down at her coffee table to eat our breakfast. "You don't have any clues? No receipts or anything?"
I reached over and pulled out the meager contents of my pockets. "I don't even have my wallet," I said in between mouthfuls of omelet.
Bree held up the key. "Looks like there's a number on this. And something was written on the other side but I can't read it. Did you scratch it out?"
I took the key from her and examined it again. "No. I don't remember. You're right about there being something written there. It must have taken some work to scratch it off."
Bree carefully picked up the photograph and unfolded it. "Do you know her?"
"I don't know," I said.
We both stared down at the little girl named Maggie. She looked distracted, watching something just out of frame.
"Where is she?" Bree asked. "That wall is so stark but she's definitely inside somewhere."
Bree gave a slight shiver and tried to cover it up by checking the time. I finished my coffee and stood up.
"I don't want to screw up your plans for the day. I'll just grab my things and get out of your hair," I said.
Bree stood up, shaking her head. "Don't be stupid. You need to get back to your base and you need a ride. I have a car."
"Don't you have work?" I asked.
Bree shrugged. "I could use a day off."
I couldn't find a way to tell her how that casual shrug of hers had lifted a heavy weight off my shoulders. All I could do was nod and try for the twentieth time that morning not to kiss her again.
Chapter Four
Bree
All I could think about was the dust on my dashboard. I hadn't washed my little used car since I bought it. Why bother when I didn't have a garage? But I at least tried to keep it tidy inside. I vowed to wipe the dashboard clean the next time we stopped for gas.
Not that Nathan noticed. He had told me repeatedly that he would be fine hitchhiking. He said he might do odd jobs around town to earn the money for a bus ticket. Not that I didn't like the idea of him sticking around for a while, but I waved away all his excuses and other ideas. I wanted an adventure, and he had somewhere he needed to be.
We headed south toward the Kansas/Oklahoma border, and I had the strongest urge to just keep driving until I could see the ocean. A wild thought told me that after I dropped Nathan at the Coronado base, I could keep going to California.
The only problem with that plan was I knew all too well how reality would find me anywhere. Soon the weight would settle back on top of me. It was only when I was with Nathan that I felt light and free.
"Are you sure you don't mind missing work?" Nathan asked again. "Don't they need you at the diner?"
I snorted, unable to stop the unladylike sound. "They wouldn't need me at all if Janice ever did any work. I mean, I appreciate the job, but it's not like I'm staking my career on the Kansas Cookery."
"So, you'll still have a job when you get back to town?" Nathan asked.
I scrunched up my nose at the thought of returning so soon. "Yeah, it's fine. I told them I had a family emergency and I wasn't sure how long I'd be gone."
Nathan finally seemed to notice my eagerness for the open road. "Have you taken any time off since you started working at the diner?"
"Not even half a day. It's not like it's paid leave when you work at a place like that," I said.
"Well, that's one perk the Navy gives us, I guess." Nathan tried but could not stretch out his long legs in my small, economy car.
"I don't know why I haven't taken any time," I confessed. "I have enough money stashed away. There was just never anything good to do, you know?"
Nathan nodded. "I know how you feel. Sometimes when I'm on leave, all I can think about is when I'll get the chance to suit up and get into the cockpit again."
"So, is that why you joined the SEALs?" I asked, glad the conversation was finally veering toward my mysterious passenger.
He leaned his head back against the head rest and smiled for a moment. "Those missions. A concrete goal. It was the only
work I was really cut out for. My father expected it and I didn’t want to disappoint.”
I couldn't imagine the imposing father who would have raised someone as strong and confident as Nathan, but I could imagine Nathan defying him toe-to-toe. "I’m surprised you didn’t go into the Army."
Nathan sat up again with a grin. "Honestly, I went into the Navy because I wanted to help people, be able to reach the people who really needed us. Pissing off my father was just an added bonus."
"That's how I felt about nursing," I confessed. "I always had this knack of seeing people who were hurting and I wanted to be able to help them. I used to fantasize about being able to walk down the street, see someone in pain, and know exactly what to do to help them."
"Not animals?" Nathan asked, nodding at a herd of cows. "Don't most little kids start out thinking they'll be veterinarians?"
"I suppose," I said, "but I, uh, saw this really horrible car accident on the news when I was young. I just wanted to jump into the television, pull those people from the wreckage, and be able to stop them from dying. Or at least ease their pain."
I bit my lip and pushed back the wave of sorrow I knew was coming. Every time I talked about my parents' fatal car accident, I couldn't quite admit it had happened to my family. As if holding it at arm’s length would make it any less painful.
Then it felt like a smooth spiral I had fallen down too many times before: my parents' death, the overwhelming desire to become a nurse, and the heavy realization that I had to quit college to take care of my sister.
My hands jerked on the steering wheel, thinking of my sister, but Nathan didn't notice.
He had pulled out the photograph of the young girl. "At least ease their pain," he murmured, echoing what I’d said.
"You think she needs your help?" I asked.
Nathan looked at me then out the windshield. "Why else would I have this? And, look at her, if this photograph doesn't show someone who needs help, then I have no idea what need looks like."
"Maybe you already helped her," I pointed out. "I mean, you don't remember, so why not think positive?"