Call to Engage

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Call to Engage Page 9

by Tawny Weber


  With a half laugh, Mack leaned against the door frame. “Dude, you have the strictest sense of right and wrong of anyone I’ve ever known.”

  “It is what it is.” Elijah shrugged.

  Mack moved aside when he approached, following Elijah into the living room.

  “Sorry I took my frustration out on your face,” he offered.

  “Sorry I didn’t give you a heads-up about Ava.” Mack grimaced, his expression folding into lines of regret. “Want an explanation? A—what do you call it? Situation accounting?”

  “Sitrep. Situation report.” Hell, no, Elijah thought. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “Want to skip dinner with Aunt Marilyn and spend the evening with my latest hottie and me? We’re doing dinner at Mandarin’s, then hitting Decadence for dessert.”

  “Thanks. But I’m more an apple-pie guy. I’m not into booze-filled chocolate pudding with a fancy name.” Elijah snagged his jacket out of the hall closet and shrugged into the soft leather. “Besides, I thought you said you got dumped last week.”

  “That was last week, cuz.”

  “Then I’d be a total ass to horn in on your making time with a new hottie. I’ve got an assignment to work on, so I’ll probably be holed up in my room when you get back.” Hoping it would soothe the last of the rough edges away, he slapped his cousin on the back. “Don’t bother keeping your screams of ecstasy down. My headphones are sound suppressing.”

  “Gonna have to be damned good to drown out the sound of groaning to Boléro.”

  Sex, sex, sex. Everybody was talking sex.

  Elijah took the stairs.

  He had the image of Ava, the reminder of their heat, in one corner of his mind. Now he had Nic concerned that he’d gone so long without sharing orgasms with a woman that he’d do something stupid. Why not throw in the idea of his cousin and some big, buff guy getting their jollies while Boléro played in the background.

  Boléro? Seriously? Elijah grimaced. Mack needed to get some better tunes. Then again, it was better than his previous soundtrack—“On the Good Ship Lollipop.”

  And Elijah? He was facing celibacy and radio silence, with only the memory of his hot ex-wife and her sexy new body to keep him entertained.

  Maybe he should reconsider Nic’s advice and get the hell back on base.

  CHAPTER SIX

  AVA KNOCKED BACK her third shot of tequila, the liquor hitting her throat like fire and burning its way down just as hot as the first two.

  “Freaking-A.” Her glossy lips rounded in shock, Chloe could only shake her head as Ava slammed the shot glass on the table. “I’ve never seen you drink like this.”

  “I never have drank like this.” Ava breathed hoarsely through the flames. The last time she’d seen Elijah, she’d buried her feelings in food. She figured it was only fair that she give booze a try this round. She’d bet she got numb faster, forgot easier and wouldn’t have to do as many hours on the treadmill to offset the results. “I decided it was time to try something new.”

  “Uh-huh. How about we give food a try?” Chloe gave the laminated bar menu a grimace. “It doesn’t look like they serve a single organic or fresh dish—we can call fried food the new thing.”

  “Oh no. No way.” Ava gave an adamant shake of her head, then had to pause when the bar decided to take a fast spin in the opposite direction. She really wasn’t used to drinking. “I ate fried food last time. Fried mac-and-cheese balls. And batter-fried shrimp. And fries. French fries, cheese fries, chili fries and sweet potato fries.”

  She’d eaten enough potatoes to depopulate every potato field in the state of Idaho. Ava swallowed a couple of times to get past the memory. Then, for good measure, she sucked in a couple of deep breaths until the craving for sour cream and onion potato chips passed before continuing.

  “Let’s see, besides my worship of fries, there was chocolate. Mmm, chocolate, in all forms. Cherry-chocolate cake. Double-chocolate cupcakes. Chocolate cream pie. Triple-dipped—”

  “Stop,” Chloe interrupted. Her blue eyes pained and her expression tight, she shook her head. “I’m begging you, stop. Don’t say another word. I already have to work out five days a week or I balloon up. I just bought my first pair of designer jeans, Ava. They were on sale. I can’t return them, and muffin tops are only acceptable if they’re sprinkled with sugar.”

  “See, that’s why we’re avoiding food. I gained forty pounds last time.”

  “Last time.” Her usually mellow expression impatient, Chloe waited a beat, then lifted both hands. “What last time? We came in here so you could explain over a drink, and so far I’ve watched you slam three and you haven’t explained a single thing.”

  Explain. Yeah. She’d promised to do that, hadn’t she? Ava swallowed hard, wishing she could blame the churning in her gut on the booze. Doing shots was a new thing for her, but this sick feeling was very familiar.

  “So I went through this rough time a while back,” she said slowly, dancing around the explanation until she was sure she could get through the telling of it. “Because of it, I gained lots of weight. Which is what led me to start exercising. That’s what put me on the fitness path and led to teaching. That’s when I became interested in massage and decided to get my certification. Which is how I came to work at Mack’s gym, where we met. And you know everything from there.”

  Ava offered her most angelic smile and even added a flutter of her lashes for effect. She sighed when all she got in return was a shake of Chloe’s head.

  “You said something about a guy when you called,” Chloe prodded, her fingers tapping on the varnish of the dark wood table. Frowning, she shook her head again. “I’ve never known you to get worked up over a guy. Actually I’ve never known you to have anything to do with guys.” The hint of impatience faded as sympathy took over Chloe’s face. “Is that what’s wrong? You finally found a guy that you’re interested in? Who is he? Where’d you meet? Is he interested?”

  Talk about making her head spin. Ava pressed one hand to her temple to try to slow her swirling thoughts and wondered if she should order another tequila. It would either slow the swirling or dull the pain already stabbing through her heart.

  “Yes, there is a guy. You might have seen him this morning, since he was my eight-thirty massage appointment. But I’m not interested in him,” she declared, waving one hand through the air as if she could erase the very thought. “He’s Mack’s cousin, actually. I knew him once. The last time I saw him, I was an emotional mess. Seeing him again just reminded me of that.”

  That and so much more. Ava took a shaky breath, then another sip of water hoping it’d cool her throat.

  “Was he part of the mess?” Chloe guessed quietly.

  “Everyone and everything in my life at that point was a part of the mess.” Her words were surprisingly bitter. Maybe it was shock over seeing Elijah again, or maybe the alcohol had opened doors usually secured so tight. Whatever it was, the memories were flooding through her, hard and intense.

  So many memories.

  So many losses.

  So much pain.

  “But it’s no big deal,” she tried to dismiss with a jerk of her shoulder. “I suppose I overreacted.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Sure.” Ava tried to smile but her cheeks were a little numb so she wasn’t sure if she pulled it off or not. “I shouldn’t have bothered you. It’s really not a big deal.”

  “Okay.” Chloe nodded, her sky blue eyes as serious as Ava had ever seen them and her face set in lines of disappointment. “So it’s no big deal that you ran out of the treatment room, or that you’ve blown a day’s calories on alcohol, or that you’re now drunker than I’ve ever seen you. It’s no big deal.”

  Ava couldn’t stop her face from sliding into a pout.

  “I thought we were
friends. The kind of friends who are there for each other,” Chloe continued, pouring more water into Ava’s glass. “You were there for me when I freaked out because after thirty years of unmarried bliss, my parents decided to get all traditional and tie the knot. You talked me off the ledge earlier this year when I was so upset about Bones taking a relationship sabbatical that I fell off the vegetarian wagon and started scarfing down breakfast sausages like there was no tomorrow.”

  Ava grimaced.

  “You’ve been there to listen to my relationship rhapsodies and my plans for happily-ever-after. You’ve mopped my tears, held my hand and, yes, brought me chocolate.” Chloe pulled out all the stops then with a deep sigh and woebegone expression. “I didn’t realize it was a one-way deal.”

  Oh, God. Ava wanted to drop her head to the table and cry. The guilt. Ava was an expert on guilt. She’d been raised on it. Her parents had employed guilt and bribery in equal measure, using them to train Ava like a puppy to do their bidding. She’d been so well trained that she hadn’t even recognized it until Elijah had forced her to. She’d spent the last few years weaning herself off her parents’ influence, learning to recognize the signs, to sidestep the effects.

  And here she was, wallowing in it again. Wave after wave of it washed over her, the nasty-tasting dregs swirling and mixing with the tequila so she felt like she was drowning.

  God. Ava heaved a deep sigh. She rubbed two fingers against her temple—at least she thought she did. Her face was pretty numb. Maybe that was a good thing. She couldn’t avoid thinking about the situation since it had been slapped, naked, in her face. But if she had to offer details, offering them might be easier anesthetized.

  “Elijah.” Just saying it made her heart spasm. Ava pressed her lips together until she was sure they wouldn’t tremble. “His name is Elijah.”

  This time instead of stopping her from lifting her shot glass toward the waitress to signal for another round, Chloe simply lifted the appetizer menu and pointed to order food along with the tequila shot.

  “He and Mack really are cousins. You probably remember me telling you I met Mack when I was in high school and he was one of the coaches at cheer camp.” Her lips curved at the memory of the burly bodybuilder trying to teach a bunch of giggling teenagers the benefits of muscle tone. “I didn’t embrace strength training then, but he did help me build up enough upper-body strength to do a handstand, so I snagged the head cheerleader spot. I was so impressed, I used to come all the way from Mendocino to Napa a few times a year for a personal training session.”

  “I didn’t realize you drove, what? Three hours? Just for one training session?”

  “Sure. Every few months he’d create a new workout program for me, take me through it a few times, then video it so I had a visual reference for the workouts I was supposed to do on my own between sessions. I usually flaked, though. Oh, I’d put in the time the week after each session, and the week before the next. But in between?” Rolling her eyes, Ava shook her head. “Flake city.”

  “And you met this guy, Elijah, through Mack because of those sessions?”

  “Mmm-hmm.” She gave a nostalgic sigh of pleasure as she remembered the first time she’d seen him. She’d been home from UC Santa Barbara the summer after her freshman year, thinking she was so mature and worldly. A quarter of the way to an ineffectual degree in art history, she’d spent her days quoting poetry, passing judgment on the state of social justice and bemoaning the lack of good shopping in Mendocino. Her evenings were mostly spent at the country club or at any number of similar appropriate upscale events where parent-approved potential husbands gathered.

  One fine weekend in July she’d driven to Napa to shop, to lunch and, as a lark, to stop in for the grand opening celebration of Mack’s gym. It had been filled wall-to-wall with people, including the burly trainer’s large extended family.

  And Elijah.

  As soon as their eyes had met over the row of treadmills, he’d stridden over to say hello.

  And she’d fallen in love. Just like that.

  “It was through Mack that I met Elijah. We were...” Best friends. Husband and wife. Soul mates. “A couple for a while. Then we weren’t. It wasn’t an easy breakup.”

  And wasn’t that a gem of an understatement. Ava let it ride while the waitress brought her drink and a platter of cheesy nachos piled high with black beans, vegetables and sour cream.

  Chloe waited for the server to leave before she asked, “How long were you together?”

  “Two years. Or three. Maybe four, depending on how you count.”

  While Chloe puzzled that and began eating, Ava licked the flesh between her thumb and forefinger. She sprinkled a dash of salt and licked again, then tossed the glistening gold tequila down her throat. Fast was best, she figured, shuddering just a little before biting a wedge of lime between her teeth and sucking back the tart relief.

  “How many ways are there to count?” Chloe asked as soon as Ava smacked the glass down on the table.

  Oh, so many. Regretting the deep breath as soon as she took it, Ava ignored the burning in her throat and shrugged. “First meet to last sight, four years. First date to breakup, three years. Commitment to end, two years.” She let her head fall back on the padded seat, closing her eyes and losing herself in the room’s heady spins. The scent of fake cheese goo rippled through her system, stirring either hunger or nausea. She was too miserable to tell which. “Given that he was gone more than he was with me, we could even count actual time together.”

  Feeling Chloe’s curiosity, Ava opened blurry eyes and mumbled, “Fourteen months, twenty-three days.”

  “Okay.” A loaded chip halfway to her mouth, the blonde nodded. “Okay. So I guess that means yours was pretty serious.”

  Ava couldn’t stop the watery laugh. Serious? Oh yeah. As death. “Until it wasn’t,” was all she said as she lifted a chip. Since she couldn’t think of anything else to do with it, she took a bite. And realized she actually was hungry.

  She and Chloe spent the next few minutes focused on the nachos. Ava wasn’t drunk enough to believe the conversation was over. But she knew the secret to getting through a tough workout was carefully timed breathers. Power up to power through.

  “How long ago were you and this guy a serious thing?” Chloe asked when they were left with mostly naked chips and a sprinkling of diced tomatoes scattered over the thick white platter.

  Done, full and now sure the nausea in her stomach was from nerves, Ava leaned back again. How long ago? A lifetime. “Today was the first time I’ve seen Elijah in four years. So...” She lifted her empty glass. “Long enough that I shouldn’t be sliding through stupid over him.”

  “Nope.” Chloe shook her head hard enough that the silver chains hanging from her ears jangled. “I think when it’s that serious, there’s no way to avoid the stupid.”

  Ava managed to find the smile she knew Chloe was angling for, but she couldn’t hold it for long.

  “It must suck to see an ex and he looks good. I like to imagine the guy losing the will to live, or at least to groom himself, without me. It’d make me feel better thinking he’s miserable with a beer gut hanging over his belt and his comb-over fluttering in the breeze.” Popping the chip into her mouth, Chloe gave an exaggerated eye roll. “But your guy? Yowza, Ava. He’s hotter than hot. Did he improve with age? I mean, I can’t imagine better than what I saw today. Granted, I didn’t get the naked view like you did, but what I did see was prime.”

  “It’s been almost eight years since I first set eyes on him, and he was just as gorgeous at twenty-three.”

  “And that body? He looked pretty ripped. Is that new?”

  “Elijah’s body has always been amazing.” Her mouth suddenly dry, Ava took a sip of water. When that wasn’t enough to combat the heat, she gulped down the rest. “He’s naturally lean, cuts and
bulks pretty easily. And he’s seriously dedicated to keeping in shape. Part of that’s personality, part of it’s his job.”

  “What does he do that demands a body like that? Fitness instructor? Cop? Underwear model?”

  “He’s...um...” For a lot of reasons, she’d never been able to talk about what Elijah did, about what he was. But the guilt waves were still riding high, so she forced it. “He’s in the Navy.”

  “The Navy? Like, out on submarines and big boats and things?” Chloe looked impressed.

  Impressed enough that Ava wanted to leave it at that. But if she were going to spill the whole truth, she might as well keep it at nothing but. “He’s a SEAL.”

  “Oh my God, wow.” Chloe’s brows veed high as she gave a soft whistle. “Talk about dangerous. Was that why you guys split up?”

  It could have been. God, she wished it had been.

  “There were a lot of factors,” she finally said, carefully blocking the key ones from her mind. From her heart. “But the high-risk career and the fact that he was gone so often were definitely issues.”

  “That’d be hard. I can’t imagine what it’s like when the guy’s gone half the time. And I’m like, the queen of paranoid. No way could I handle a guy with a dangerous job like protecting the world.”

  Protecting the world. It sounded so cool. Romantic and heroic and even glamorous in a way.

  Her mind flashed to the image of Elijah’s leg, the deep burns etched into his muscular thigh. There was one on his face that hadn’t been there before, too. He saw his body as a weapon. One he willingly used. And damaged.

  “At first, I thought it was sexy. God, that body. You think he looks good clothed?” Now able to view her past through the nice, comfortable cushion of tequila, Ava gave a low whistle and waved her hand in front of her face. “Nude, the man is incredible. Perfection from head to toe.”

 

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