by Lorenz Font
Me, not Trent.
Then, with vivid clarity, he recalled the day he thought his friend was going out of his mind.
November 18, 2001
“I can’t marry Jennifer,” Trent said one afternoon during patrol break.
Standing on the dusty roadside on the outskirts of Kabul, Blake stared at his friend. “What the hell are you talking about? The frigid wind’s done damage to your brain, dude.”
Trent avoided Blake’s gaze and pretended to watch the children playing in the street. “I’m not kidding. I can’t marry Jennifer. I won’t.”
“What’s the deal, T?”
Trent inhaled and exhaled a long, drawn out sigh. “I can’t father a child.”
Blake must have zoned out while staring at Trent, because his friend was calling his name when he snapped back into the present. “Does she know?” he asked.
Trent dismissed his inquiry with a wave of his hand. “No … let’s leave it at that.”
“So you just decided you’re not going to marry her?” His voice rose. “Like she means nothing?”
“I don’t want to hurt her in the long run. She told me after I proposed that she wanted children. She’d be miserable.” Trent glared at the abandoned building before them.
The rest of the squad continued their patrolling duties.
Blake followed the others, but he was far from letting Trent off the hook. “You can’t leave her high and dry, man.” He looked over his shoulder to find Trent trailing behind him.
Tears pooled in Trent’s eyes. “If you don’t want her left like that, why don’t you marry her?”
Incredulous, he pressed his lips into a tight line. He gripped his M16 until his knuckles turned white. “You’re a bastard, aren’t you? You have a good woman waiting for you, and you’re going all hissy because you can’t make babies? You’re so fuckin’ full of yourself.”
“The way I see it, you love her, too. So marry her and give her the one thing I can’t,” Trent shouted.
Shane and Robert turned to check on them.
Blake raised his hand and gestured for them keep moving. “I’m not in love with your girlfriend.” The denial left a bitter taste in his mouth, but what else could he say under Trent’s close scrutiny?
“The hell you aren’t. I see the way you look at her pictures. The way you hang on to everything I say about her. Connor, you’re much more transparent than you care to believe.”
That had been the last time they’d addressed the matter. Blake had avoided the topic like a plague. Sure, Trent had read him like an open book, but he hadn’t let it happen again.
And that fateful day, his last words had been for him to take care of their girl. A man’s dying wish. Whether Trent had lived or died, Blake had known that he was always going to watch over his friend and his wife because they were a big part of his life. Trent had been his best friend.
Sure … let yourself believe that’s all there is, Connor.
Blake closed his eyes and let the sad memory drift away.
God, I miss him so much.
Life had never been the same after that.
He spent the remaining hours of the waning morning holding Jennifer and loving the warmth her body provided him. He could hold her like this for the rest of his life, but what woman would want damaged goods? And he was definitely broken. He wasn’t going to make a fool of himself because he knew damn well that he was better off alone.
The sunlight was streaming through the window by the time he awoke again. His first inclination was to check on Jennifer, and he found her still fast asleep in his arms. He ran his fingers along her hair, loving the feel of the strands brushing his skin.
Jennifer stirred, and he froze, but instead of opening her eyes, she snuggled closer, a contented smile on her beautiful face.
He inched closer to the headboard and leaned against it as his body reacted to her nearness. He battled the desire.
God, I’m an animal.
The last thing he needed was a hard-on with Jennifer close enough to feel it. She deserved someone better, a man who would cherish her.
Why can’t I remember the important stuff?
All he had were vague flashbacks with nothing concrete to base his next move on, and trying to force the memories back only left him flustered.
What if nothing happened?
Glancing at Jennifer, his gaze traveled down her long and pleasing legs, lingering on the one that had been tangled with his not so long ago, before moving to her bandaged foot with … crusted bloodstains. Just like that, his mood changed from night to day and he sat upright in bed.
“Jennifer, wake up!” He gave her shoulders a vigorous shake. And another.
“Huh?” Jennifer’s eyes fluttered open, and he saw a trace of smile when she focused on his face. “What time is it?” She scrambled to get up, not seeming to mind finding him beside her. If this was an act, she was putting up a remarkable performance.
“You fuckin’ left when you’re supposed to be off that foot.” He pointed at her leg. “Look at it.”
Jennifer looked down and cringed. “I can’t stay here if you keep yelling at me.”
“If you keep insisting on breaking all records for stubbornness, then you deserve to get yelled at.”
“If you weren’t a total grouch, I wouldn’t have left. You invited me to stay here, yet you bite my head off every single chance you get. You look at me like I’m a carrier of a disease. What is it, Blake? What do you want from me?” Her eyes blazed, practically daring him to deny her words.
He caught himself before the sharp retort sprang from his lips.
Jennifer was right. He hadn’t been the perfect host. No matter how he felt about her, he’d insisted that she stay, and the least he could do was to be civil.
“I’m … sorry. I haven’t been myself since …” He rammed his fingers through his hair and remembered what might have happened between them last night. He dropped his gaze and shook his head. “About last night … I’m so sorry. Did I—”
Jennifer looked at him as if she was gauging his mood before she answered. “We’re both adults, so don’t worry about last night. It was a mistake. I shouldn’t ha—”
“You’re right. Forget what happened last night. Let’s start all over again. Stay here until it’s safe to go back to your house. I promise I’ll stay out of your hair.”
“That’s not what I’m asking you to do. Can’t we at least have a normal conversation where we don’t skirt around each other like chickens with our heads cut off?”
Oh, Lord. This is going to be painful.
If it meant keeping her safe, he would grin and bear it. “I’ll try … if you let me take care of that foot.”
Jennifer’s expression turned, and he wasn’t sure if it was because she was hurting or upset with him.
“Sam already took care of it. He says I’m just a bleeder. There’s nothing to worry about as long as I stay off it. I was going to change the bandage after we—” She looked away. “You needed help an—”
He felt his cheeks burn in mortification. “We what?”
God, how far would you go to spare my feelings?
He closed his eyes and chose his words carefully. “Did I say or do anything … offensive?”
She hesitated then shook her head. “You wanted me to stay … never mind, it’s not important.”
He sensed her reluctance, sure she was hiding something, but he decided it was best not to press for details that could hurt them both.
“Sit up and let me check the stitches.” He pushed his body off the bed but the sudden activity made the room spin. “Damn!” He sat back down and gripped his head between his palms.
“What’s wrong?” Jennifer scooted closer, and her legs brushed his bare skin.
He recoiled as though a bolt of lightning had hit him.
Any more of her vanilla-sweetened touches and he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off this woman.
“A goddamn hangover.” He closed
his eyes and tried to gather his wits. She was swinging her legs off the bed when he caught her wrist. “Where the hell are you going?”
“I’m going to get you a glass of water and an aspirin.” She tried to shake out of his grasp.
“Didn’t I tell you to stay off that foot? Don’t you ever listen?” He immediately regretted shouting. “Damn it, Jennifer. Will you please let me take care of you and stop mothering me?”
The look on her face said that she’d had enough of his childish tantrums and his ever-changing mood. She gritted her teeth before giving him a good lashing. “Is that what you think I’m doing, Blake?”
He didn’t answer.
“You’re so wrapped up in your pity party that you’re driving everyone away. I wanted to be your friend, but it seems like you’re incapable of letting anyone in because you’re afraid.”
He started to open his mouth but clamped it shut.
“I know you think I pity you, but I don’t. You have enough for all of us. Sure, half of your face is burned and you lost an eye, but life doesn’t stop there. You still have a lot to offer. You turn your mother away because she loves you and she wants to care for you. It is obvious that a woman hurt you in the process, and you think the rest of us are out to get you. Wake up and smell the coffee, Blake. Life continued whether you like it or not, and you have to catch up.”
Jennifer pried his fingers off her wrist and hurried out of the room.
Chapter 15
The minute she cleared Blake’s bedroom, Jennifer felt stupid for her childish outburst and careless for walking on the foot that was still screaming. Despite the doctor’s warning to stay off it, her foot had been subjected to relentless punishment for the past two days.
Jennifer gasped at the sharp, stabbing pain that snaked up her leg. She braced her palms on the wall and pressed her lips together to keep from crying out.
Drew bounded toward her, wagging his tail with eagerness.
“Stay, Drew,” Blake commanded, and was by her side in an instant, wearing a worried expression. “What’s wrong?” Without waiting for an answer, he wove his arm around her waist, lifted her, and walked her to the living room sofa.
Blake’s arm rubbed her breasts as he deposited her on the couch. The instant thrill she felt caused her to shrink back, embarrassed by her body’s immediate reaction to his touch.
Something flashed across Blake’s face at her reaction, but he said nothing as he held her gaze instead.
What in the world do I do now?
For a moment, all she wanted was a kiss. It was awful, but she couldn’t ignore the burning thrill within her. It was wrong for her to expect more from their temporary arrangement. There was nothing between them, and the sooner she got that through her thick skull, the better off she would be.
She tried to create a little distance between them, but Blake wouldn’t let go of her waist. He refused to break eye contact, and flustered, Jennifer inched her face away, scared at the possibility that he might see right through her and guess how she felt.
I don’t want to feel anything. I can’t.
Her gaze dropped to his mouth, a mere inch away, then back to his eyes.
Blake didn’t move. He kept watching her, making her more uncomfortable with each passing second.
Do something. Say something.
“I—”
“I won’t apologize for doing this,” he said.
And just like that, he captured her mouth for a long kiss—so gentle and so different from the previous night. Her mind reeled at the delicious fusion and each twining of their tongues.
Jennifer closed her eyes and surrendered to the pleasure he offered. She prayed this moment would never end. This man, though infuriating, had the power to send her mind into a tumultuous spin. Giving in to her yearning, she let her hands glide across his shoulder to pull him closer, and clasped them behind his neck.
Without breaking their kiss, Blake settled on top of her while bracing one hand on the sofa.
The feel of his strong, hard chest rubbing against her breasts made her freeze for a moment.
If he asked for her to give in, she’d be powerless to say no. She wanted this, and him. After what seemed like a blissful eternity, he abruptly ended their kiss.
An expression of guilt etched his rugged face. “Stay there and don’t move.” His voice was thick with emotion. “I will check on your foot when I get back.”
Lips still puckered and tingling, all she could do was to stare at him.
Blake disappeared into the hallway and came back with a pillow, the first aid kit, and Drew on his heels.
Jennifer noticed the slight limp he was trying to conceal, but she kept her mouth shut, not wanting to ruin the good vibe between them.
He placed the kit on the coffee table and brought the pillow to her head.
“Hoist yourself up,” he said. For once his tone lacked the sting he often used when ordering her around. Then Blake proceeded to gather two more throw pillows and lifted her legs, propping them on the cushion. “Comfortable?”
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
He began unwrapping the bloodstained cloth and frowned. “You have to stay off this foot until it heals. It’s only getting worse.” She tried to sit up but he stopped her. “Let me take care of it.”
Obedience didn’t come easy for her. Being on her own for so long had made her too independent and proud, but the abrupt change in Blake’s behavior had made her compliant, in part because she was curious just how long it would take before he reverted back to his old grouchy self.
Blake tended to her foot with deft hands and light touches. Genuine concern flashed across his face each time she flinched. In the blink of an eye, the old Blake emerged—the caring man beneath the gruff exterior that she recognized from her memories.
“You seem like you know what you’re doing.”
Blake looked up with amusement twinkling in his lone eye. “We had to learn basic first aid. We didn’t always have a medic close by, and we had to be able to fend for ourselves until real help arrived.” He tilted his head and inspected his handiwork.
“What?”
“Well, a couple of sutures reopened. Nothing to worry about. I’m afraid they can’t be stitched back, so I had to apply some butterfly stitches. If you keep off the foot for several days, it should heal just fine.” He grinned, seeming pleased with himself, and flipped the kit’s lid closed.
She liked Blake this way. Relaxed, and without the ever present harsh lines around his mouth.
“I can’t have you waiting on me hand and foot. I have to pull my weight around here if you want me to stay.”
Blake regarded her for a moment, and she returned his gaze with nonchalance despite her heart hammering against her chest. In this rare moment of casual and friendly atmosphere, she wished time would stand still.
“Here’s the deal. If you stay off that foot for forty-eight hours, I will get off your back and be as pleasant as an angel.” He smiled and extended his hand, and her heart almost melted.
Oh, no you don’t. You’re not charming your way with me.
She remembered how he used to be—self-assured, charismatic, and attractive to anything in a skirt. He still was, in fact, and she could vouch for it. He was too handsome, virile, and potent for his own good.
Too potent.
Someone she must avoid at all cost if she meant to protect herself from impending heartache. As soon as she was on her feet and her window was fixed.
Despite her unwillingness to be sucked in by his charm, she reached out to clasp his warm hand. “Deal. No snapping, no biting my head off, and no ordering me around.”
“Fine. But … if you do anything stupid, I can’t promise to behave.” He grinned.
Jennifer knew that agreeing had disaster written all over it, yet she had given her word, and forty-eight hours wasn’t that far away.
She held his gaze and opted to change the subject. “I’m starving.”
> “Just stay here, and I’ll rustle us some eggs and bacon.” He walked over to the entertainment center to retrieve the remote control.
“Do you have anything healthy?”
He stopped flipping the channels and gawked at her as if she had sprouted horns. “I thought bacon and eggs were healthy?”
He laughed and she joined in while Drew barked with excitement.
“I think you may have missed the memo. It loses the healthy tag if you eat it every day. Just think of the grease wrapping your arteries.”
Blake wrinkled his nose and continued flipping the channels. “And what alternatives do you propose?”
“How about cereals rich in fiber? Not like a body can’t use the help, you know.” She winked, feeling bold enough to crack a joke.
“No, thank you. I’m as regular as … never mind. I don’t have anything healthy at the moment, but we can go grocery shopping later and you can pick the stuff you want.”
This was the side of Blake she had almost forgotten.
I won’t survive the day if he turns that charm on full blast.
“Jennifer, is everything all right?”
She blinked. “Why?”
He sat on the foot of the couch and ran a gentle finger over her bandaged foot. “You’re looking pale.”
It took her a moment to realize that she had been staring. She swallowed before saying the first thing that came to mind. “You said I have to stay off my foot.”
He placed the remote on the table, settling on some game show for background noise. “Who says you’re walking? I’m going to carry you to the Jeep. We’ll go to the drive-through grocery, and you can shop from there.”
Apart from the idea of him carrying her and risking the effects of his closeness again, a trip to the grocery sounded harmless enough.
“What if I use my crutches?” she asked, closing her eyes in anticipation of another outburst.
Blake laughed, an honest to goodness belly laugh that echoed around the room. “Superman is at your service. Don’t waste the opportunity.” He flexed both biceps. He didn’t give her a chance to respond as he whistled and left for the kitchen with Drew following him.
She heard the sliding door open and the sound of the dog’s paws padding into the backyard, and then Blake chuckled.