“Oh, about ten years.” She nodded. “I’m from North Carolina originally, but I got a job with a company that does contract work for the Army. I like it here.”
“That’s cool.” I smiled at her. “I’ve been stationed at Fort Lee for a little over a year. It’s a nice area. Close enough to Richmond, but not right in the middle of the city, and central to a lot of different places, too.” Glancing at the teacher, I decided it was time to draw her in a little more. “How about you, Mrs. Rollins? Are you local?”
She held my gaze for a moment and then shook her head. “No. I’m originally from New Jersey. I’ve been here for about five years.”
“Oh, yeah? What brought you to Petersburg?” I tucked some more pizza into my mouth. For cafeteria food, it was pretty damn good.
The redhead fiddled with the small pendant on her necklace, running it back and forth on the delicate silver chain. “My husband was stationed here.” She spoke in a low voice.
“Oh.” Shit, that settled that. Definitely married. Although . . . she’d said her husband was stationed here. Past tense. I didn’t take the time to think before I probed a bit. “Five years is a long time to be at one duty station. What unit is he with?”
Those green eyes flashed back to me, annoyance and discomfort evident in them. “He was only here for about six months before he deployed to Afghanistan. But he didn’t make it back.”
Fuck. Now I felt like an insensitive idiot. “I’m sorry. I, uh . . . I didn’t know.”
She tilted her head and lifted one slim shoulder. “How could you know? Dane was gone long before you got here.”
Mrs. Sorbrooke reached across the table to lay her hand over the teacher’s. “I’m so sorry for your loss. That’s got to be very difficult for you. No offense meant, but I’m surprised you stayed around here.”
“I had a good job and friends and a house I loved.” She pushed her tray back a little. “But if you don’t mind, I’m not really comfortable talking about this here. Today is about your kids and you all being here for them.” She pasted on a bright smile. “Keira, how about you tell all of us what you’re studying in social studies right now?”
The rest of the lunch period was exactly what it should have been: as Mrs. Rollins had said, it was about the kids. They all three chattered away, telling stories and laughing. I enjoyed it, but at the same time, I felt like a damn asshole for bringing up something that I should have left alone.
When the bell rang, Colin wrapped me in a tight hug, his little arms around my neck as I sat at the table. “Thanks, Shaw. You were really cool. If I couldn’t have Dad here, I’m glad I had you.”
I swallowed over the lump that rose in my throat. “Any time, little man. You know that, right? Anything you or your mom needs, I’m always close by.”
He pulled back, sunny smile in place. “Yeah. I got to go now. See you later!”
I sighed a little as he sprinted off, catching up with friends and laughing as they left the lunchroom.
“Kids are resilient, aren’t they?” Mrs. Rollins had remained at the table, too, after the other two Loved Ones had left. “I mean, there’s Colin, with his dad gone probably over half his life, but he just keeps bouncing back.”
I frowned. “Jeff hasn’t been gone that much.” Or had he? I didn’t always keep track of how often my buddies deployed.
She quirked an eyebrow at me. “I’m just repeating what his mom said. Colin was in my class last year, and Sandra and I got to be good friends. She told me she’s been a single mom for more years than not.”
“I . . .” I thought about it for a minute. “Damn. Maybe that’s right. But Colin’s okay. Jeff’s got a good group of friends, and we keep our eyes on both him and his mom.”
“I can see that.” She smiled, and for the first time, it was a real, from-the-heart deal. I felt it down to my bones . . . maybe one bone in particular. “I wasn’t trying to insinuate that there’s anything wrong with Colin or his family. I understand military life. It’s just good to see that he seems to roll with it. I’m sure that at least a little of that is thanks to you and your friends.”
I shrugged. Compliments and that kind of shit always made me feel uncomfortable. “Hey, I wanted to say I’m sorry about before. I really didn’t mean to bring up a painful subject.”
She sighed. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Most of the people who work with me here know about Dane, and I guess the parents either figure it out eventually or don’t care enough to ask me.”
“Or they’re smarter and too polite to say anything.” I shook my head. “I’ve never been known for my tact.”
“It’s really not a big deal, Captain Kincaid. I’ve been a widow for over three years now—longer than I was married. I understand that not everyone knows what to say.” She put her hand on my arm and gave a little squeeze, pulling back fast when she realized what she’d done. Her cheeks went a little pink, too. “Sorry.”
“The day I complain about a pretty lady touching me in any way, they might as well take me out back and shoot me.” I grinned at her. “And please, call me Shaw. As happy as I was to be promoted from first lieutenant, I honestly can’t stand to be called Captain Kincaid. I feel like a sham superhero.”
She laughed, and damn me, I was a goner. The sound made me want to do anything to hear it again.
“All you need is the cape and the mask. And maybe some kind of tagline, right? Or a signature saying?” One of her eyebrows quirked up, and her lips curved into a broader smile. “Oooh, and a shield. Like Captain America.”
“Ahhh.” I crossed my arms over my chest and nodded. “So that’s what turns you on, huh? The dude in the patriotic onesie?”
She flushed again, but this time, I could tell she was totally owning the color. It wasn’t embarrassment at all . . . it was pure pleasure. Leaning forward, she lowered her voice. “Have you seen Chris Evans? Oh . . . my . . . God. I’d follow him to the ends of the earth and then jump off after him.”
I pretended to be insulted. “You do know that he’s an actor, right, who plays a character? He’s not so noble in real life.” I paused, thinking about it a minute. “Well, I don’t know that for sure, but probably.”
“Who cares?” She spread out her hands. “He’s still as hot and built in real life.”
Chuckling, I shook my head. “Okay, I give up. I can’t compete with that kind of hero-worship. But could you maybe give a break to a poor guy who’s only a plain soldier, not a super-hero soldier?”
She drew back a little. “What kind of break would that be?”
I kept my eyes on hers and slid my hand across the table so that the tips of my fingers grazed the tips of hers. “I’d start with your first name. Mrs. Rollins sounds way too formal and stuffy, and you’re neither.”
She hesitated, and I saw some of the light in her eyes dim just a little. “Thanks for the compliment. I’m glad I’m not stuffy.” Pulling her hand back away from mine, she added, “But since I doubt you’re going to make a habit of visiting my school, and we probably won’t ever see each other again, my first name isn’t info you necessarily need.”
“On the contrary.” I wasn’t letting her off the hook. “I hope that I am going to see you again, which was why my second question was going to be for your number, so I can ask you out for coffee or something.”
This time there was no mistaking her withdrawal. “I’m sorry. I don’t . . . that just wouldn’t be appropriate.”
“What’s inappropriate about it? I don’t have a kid in your class or your school, even. I don’t have kids at all. Just because we met at the school doesn’t mean we can’t see each other again, right?”
“My reasons for not saying yes have nothing to do with my job and everything to do with me, personally.” She stood up and pulled out her phone to check the time. “Shit-shoot, I’ve got to go. My aid is covering my class, but we’re going to specials now, and they need me.” She pasted on the phony, keep-men-at-arm’s-length smile I’d seen earlie
r. “Thanks again for coming today, Captain Kincaid. Good-bye.”
I jumped up to my feet, too and followed her toward the cafeteria doors. “I told you, my name is Shaw. And if you don’t want to give me your number or agree to go out with me, fine, but the least you can do is tell me your name.” I flashed her my most winning grin. “I bet if ol’ Cap was here, you’d tell him.”
She rolled her eyes and kept walking, but when she reached the doors, she paused for a moment with her fingers on the handle.
“It’s Delia.”
And then she was gone, her heels clicking on the tile as she vanished down the hallway. I waited a few minutes before I left, too, only because I didn’t want her to think I was chasing after her, and she was walking in the same direction I had to go to sign out.
I probably should’ve taken the hint and forgotten about her then and there. It was clear that this chick wasn’t interested in me, even if we’d had a moment or two while we were talking. I’d been getting some pretty clear signals at first, before she turned on the frost. A smart guy would’ve let it go and walked away, realizing there were plenty of other, more willing, fish in the sea.
But I wasn’t that guy. I never turned down a challenge or an adventure, and something in my gut told me that this woman—this Delia Rollins—could be both.
Chapter Two
Delia
“Hey, Dee.”
I looked up from the folder I was working on as Sandra Garlock poked her head into my classroom. She was pretty, with light brown hair pulled up into a ponytail, a freckled nose and sparkling blue eyes.
“Hey, yourself. What’re you doing here?” I made one last notation and flipped the folder closed. “Everything all right with Colin?” Usually, she picked up her son after school in the regular car line, where all the parents waited.
“Oh, yeah. He had Bug Club today, and I got here a little early, so I decided to just park and come in.” She slid out one of the child-sized chairs from beneath its desk and sat down. “How did lunch go? Was Colin excited?”
“Totally.” I smiled, remembering. “He was showing off Sh—uh, Captain Kincaid to all his friends. He had a great time. Colin did, that is. I assume Captain Kincaid enjoyed himself, too.” Shut up, Delia, I scolded myself.
“Cool.” Sandra leaned her elbow on the desk. “Shaw’s a peach, isn’t he? He’s one of my favorites of Jeff’s friends. He’s always the first one to help whenever I call, and he checks on us all the time. And did I tell you that he volunteered to come to the lunch today? I didn’t even have to ask him.”
“Uh huh.” Picking up the next student folder, I intentionally kept my gaze on the blue cover. “That’s nice. So, have you heard from Jeff lately? Everything good with him?”
“Yeah, he’s fine. I video-chatted with him last night after Colin went to bed. I always feel a little guilty about doing that, when I know how much Colin misses his daddy . . . but I miss him, too, and we need a little couple time every once in a while, right?”
“Um . . . yeah. Of course, you do.” I had no idea how to answer that. Dane and I hadn’t had children—we hadn’t had time for that—and I’d been unendingly selfish with his few phone calls and video chats, because I could be. There were no little ones clamoring to hear their dad’s voice. I knew Dane spoke with his parents now and then, too, but I never doubted that I came first.
“And don’t think your little distraction ploy worked, missy.” Sandra shook her finger at me. “I’m not stupid.”
“Oh, and I am?” I dropped my pencil onto the desk. “You think I don’t know why you just happened to be early today, and you just wandered into my classroom, where you immediately brought up Captain Kindcaid and started telling me how wonderful he is? Come on, Sandra. You know better.” I shook my head. “But I am curious: did he put you up to it, or was this your idea?”
She had the grace to look a little uncomfortable. “I’m an Army wife, and I know how to keep my damn mouth shut. That’s why I can neither confirm nor deny that a certain company commander from the 94th ID called me on his way home from the school today. I can neither confirm nor deny that he quizzed me about you for a solid fifteen minutes.”
My face was hot to the touch, and I was willing to bet it was bright red now. “Crap. Sandra, what did you tell him?”
She shrugged, playing the innocent card. “Nothing. I mean, I told him that you were Colin’s favorite teacher, and that you’re fun and a good friend.” She played with the name tag on the student desk where it was curling up a little. “Oh, and he asked if you were single, and I said yes. And that I didn’t think you’d dated anyone at all since you lost Dane.”
“That’s not true. Not strictly speaking.” I picked up my pencil and resumed transcribing my notes. “There was that guy. The one who tried to sell me insurance, remember? And I went to the movies with him.”
“Right. I remember that.” Sandra nodded, although I could tell she was trying to keep a straight face. “You went on and on about how much you loved Marvel and the Avengers, and he said he had the perfect film for you two to see together.” She waited a beat. “And he took you to see Superman. You hated it. You told me that any guy who didn’t know the difference between DC and Marvel wasn’t worth your time.”
“I remember.” I shifted in my chair. It hadn’t only been the Marvel ignorance. The man had been an arrogant jerk as well, with a huge chip on his shoulder. My first foray into post-widowhood dating had also been my last.
“But Shaw isn’t like that. He’s a good guy. Hell, he’s more than a good guy, he’s decent, kind, dependable, funny . . . and you can’t deny that he’s reeeeeally hot. Why not give him a chance? He wants to ask you out. But he told me that you shot him down.”
I cringed at her choice of words. Sandra misinterpreted my expression and reached across to take my hand. “Don’t be mad that Shaw talked to me about all this, hon. He was just . . . he wanted to know more about you. He liked you, and he wanted to know the best way to show you that. We weren’t talking about you behind your back.”
“Oh, I know.” I squeezed Sandra’s fingers. “I’m not upset at you. Shaw—Captain Kincaid seems like a decent person. He was great with the kids, and he—I like him, too.”
“Then why not give him a chance? I promise, if you go out with him and it doesn’t work out, I won’t give you a hard time. I won’t push, and I won’t even mention him to you again. No pressure.”
“I’m not worried about that, either. He’s wonderful, you’re wonderful . . . it’s me who’s the problem, Sandra. I’m sorry. I just can’t do it.”
Her eyes clouded. “Honey, why not? You two would be amazing together.”
I wanted her to leave it alone—I really didn’t feel like getting into this. It was my own hang-up, and I wasn’t in the mood to discuss my neurosis. But at the same time, I liked Sandra. She and I had gotten to be good friends over the past year, and I didn’t want to lose that relationship.
I took a deep breath. “Look. I’ll tell you, and if you need to tell Shaw, then that’s fine, but I don’t want to talk about it, okay? I don’t need you to fix me, and I sure as hell don’t need him trying to change my mind. Are we clear?”
Sandra’s eyes went wide. “Um . . . sure.”
Swallowing once, I took the plunge. “After Dane . . . after he was killed, I made up my mind that I never wanted to go through that again. It was horrible, and painful, and . . . I still hurt sometimes. So, I made a decision that I wouldn’t get involved with any man in the military again—no one who does anything remotely dangerous. If I end up dating another guy at some point, I want him to have a safe job. Something that has him sitting behind a desk, nine to five.”
Sandra stared at me in silence. “Seriously? That’s your plan? And that’s why Shaw doesn’t make the cut? Because he happens to be in the Army? Dee, no offense, honey, but that’s just bat shit crazy.”
I held up my hand. “You promised. No trying to fix me. Now you know. Tell Shaw or
don’t, I don’t care. But please don’t harass me about it. I’m perfectly fine. I know that I’m protecting myself from getting hurt again, and I’m okay with that.”
“Hey—I’m not arguing with you.” She straightened in her small chair. “You’re an adult, and you know best. Still, I can’t help thinking it’s a damn shame. You and Shaw would’ve been great together.”
I felt a pang that might have been a mix of regret and disappointment. “Maybe. But it’s better not to get involved when I know it can’t go anywhere. Right?”
“I guess so. Although, you know, Shaw wasn’t asking for a commitment. He just wanted your number. Maybe you two could be friends and . . .” Sandra lifted one shoulder as she stood up. “You know. Friends who fuck.”
“Sandra!” I struggled between wanting to laugh and needing to keep a shocked expression on my face. “Seriously.”
“Well, hell, hon, we all have needs, and yours haven’t been met for a long time, right? Let me tell you . . . if you need that itch scratched, it occurs to me that Shaw Kincaid would be just the guy to do it.”
“That’s a lovely sentiment.” I covered my face with my hands. “And definitely not something that makes me uncomfortable. Particularly when we’re sitting here in my classroom at school.” I hoped Sandra could interpret my subtle sarcasm.
“You might be right there. But call me later when you get home, maybe after Colin’s asleep, and I’ll be happy to talk about it in greater detail with you.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” I peeked at her through my fingers. “Don’t you need to go now? I think clubs are over.”
“Sadly, I think I do need to go get my kiddo. I’ll phone you later.” Sandra hitched her purse more securely on her shoulder. “Oh . . . by the way, I should probably tell you that I already gave Shaw your number.”
I stared at her. “You did what? Why?”
She squinted a little. “I figured I could talk you into going out with him at least once. I didn’t know about your whole only-safe-dudes policy. How did we manage to be friends for a year without me knowing that?”
Hitting the Silk: A Career Soldier Military Romance Page 2