A Prior Engagement

by Karina Bliss

  “Yes,” she said. Her hand covered his. “What are you going to do about the guys?”

  “I...don’t know.” There’s only so much forgiveness I can muster over Mark and I need it all for you.”

  He only realized how that sounded when she stiffened against him. “Don’t take that the wrong way,” he said. “I meant he’s still a sore spot. Notwithstanding that what I did yesterday was completely and totally unjustified, the guy is a bit of a wanker and you should all have had better taste if you were trying to fill my shoes.”

  His grip anchored her knee as she tried to slide to her side of the car. “Seriously, Jules, it was a slip of the tongue.”

  “I believe you,” she said, loosening his hand. “But you need to be sure it wasn’t a Freudian slip.” Jules returned to her side of the car. “Imagining someone else with the person you love is tough. Maybe too tough for some people. But I’m done with guilt, Lee. If you can’t get past it, we have no future.”

  He pulled over to the side of the road and faced her.

  “I love you,” he said. “I loved you within an hour of meeting you and I’ve loved you every minute since.”

  Her expression softened.

  “Even when you broke my heart and I swore I’d get over you, I still loved you. And nothing—and no one—will ever change that. Now scoot back over here, because I’m missing you.”

  With a sigh, Jules slid over. Weak with relief, Lee checked the rearview mirror and pulled onto the road, one hand on the steering wheel, the other entwined with hers.

  Jules lay her head on his shoulder. “I still want a prenup,” said his romantic.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  JULES’S CELL RANG as they were coming into Whangarei. “It’s Dan,” she said to him. “What am I going to tell him?”

  Eyes on the road, Lee thought about what he’d accused his friends of in the flash flood of bitter disappointment and his skin crawled. “I’m surprised he even wants to talk to me.”

  Jules answered the cell before it went to message. “Hi, Dan. Yes, I’m with him. You guys have things you need to say? I’m sure he does, too.”

  “If they’ve got time after the launch party—”

  He didn’t get a chance to finish. “Yes,” Jules said to Dan and hung up.

  “He heard you and they’ll come to the house around six,” she told Lee, returning her cell to her bag.

  “Okay.”

  “It’ll work out,” she reassured him. But then—thank God—she hadn’t heard his vicious verbal assault. He’d made unforgivable accusations, deliberately and coldly laying waste to fourteen-year friendships. He expected equally ugly things to be said in return.

  “I think you guys need to be alone for this,” she commented. “I’ll shower and change and head back to Claire’s. I’m sure she could do with some reassurance as well as a hand with the cleanup.”

  Lee didn’t argue. It was better she didn’t hear them.

  When he saw her off a few hours later, she cupped his jaw. “Is it wrong to be so happy while you’re still at odds with your friends and I’m still at odds with Connie?”

  “We could always run away,” he suggested. He was only half-joking. “Drive until we run out of gas and settle there.”

  “No man’s an island,” she reminded him. “I learned that lesson from you.”

  “That was Old Lee,” he said. “New Lee would never be as arrogantly prescriptive.”

  Laughing, she kissed him. “Do me a favor?”

  “Anything. Preferably involving servicing of a sexual nature.”

  “Later, Romeo. For now, watch your memorial service while you’re waiting for the guys. It might give you a better understanding of your death from our perspective.”

  “Sure you don’t want me to have a tooth pulled instead?” His army buddies weren’t going to forgive him, no matter what his understanding. They were more likely to run him out of town, particularly when they heard he and Jules were a couple again.

  Speaking of which. “Don’t sell your stake in the law firm to repay me.” Surely he had more clout now.

  She looked up at him, head tilted to the side. “Admittedly, the sex was fantastic but it’s not worth a rain check on one hundred and twenty thousand dollars.” There was an edge to her voice he couldn’t interpret.

  “When you factor in forty-plus years of daily sex, then one hundred and twenty thousand dollars is ripping you off.”

  “Together or not, you need your money, Lee. I’m not taking advantage of our relationship. I will repay you what you’re due. I’m still big on equity and fairness.”

  Order and parameters gave her security after a childhood that had offered none. He was starting to get that now. “We’ll find a compromise.”

  “Good.” She gave him a final kiss. “And good luck.”

  “Thanks, I’ll need it.”

  When she’d left he found the DVDs Rob had given him shoved in a drawer in the bedroom. Reluctantly he picked one up and turned it over. His face grinned at him under a stylized font proclaiming: Memorial Service of Lee Davis.

  The photograph was from his SAS graduation, a decade earlier. Trust Rob to choose a military image. His brother had cropped Lee alone but the original photograph had included the whole family.

  His fingers tightened on the casing. Dad. A sudden yearning to see his late father alive was all the prompting he needed to pad into the living room and slot the disk into the machine.

  Maybe from the grave Ian could tell him how to fix this.

  The movie began at the start of the service. Lee fast-forwarded through the minister’s homily, the hymns, and speeches by his C.O. and his sister—Oh yeah, he thought in disgust, I’m such a great guy—hunting for footage of his father.

  Dan flashed up on the screen and Lee hit Play. “I speak for Ross Coltrane, who is still gravely ill in hospital, and for Nathan Wyatt as well as myself when I say—” Dan cleared his throat “—we miss you, brother.”

  Lee closed his eyes, then opened them and kept watching.

  To his surprise, Ian didn’t give a eulogy. But when he saw the footage of his father after the service, Lee understood why. Ian Davis had never been frail. But here he looked like a bewildered old man, which clearly upset the person shooting the footage as much as it did Lee because every time his father was framed in a close-up, the camera immediately retreated to crowd shots.

  That’s how Lee got the bigger picture.

  Claire clinging to Dan’s arm, her face ashen. She’d buried her husband two days earlier yet she’d attended his memorial service. Lewis, thank God, wasn’t with her.

  Nate at the bar knocking back shot glasses, his eyes blank.

  Lee’s brother-in-law, Phil, simultaneously trying to comfort Connie and his kids.

  Jules, wearing sunglasses that covered half her face, shepherding out some hysterical woman who must be her mother.

  Dan bringing Dad his coat as he stood removed from the crowd.

  Another sequence showed Dad and Jules walking slowly through the heavily pruned rose gardens, all stalks and thorns. His throat closed, seeing his father’s familiar shock of white hair. Jules’s shoulders were as hunched as the old man’s as she helped him navigate some steps.

  You think mourning you was a game?

  Dropping the remote, Lee leaned his head against the back of the couch and groaned. When Jules had flung the comment at him, he’d been throwing counter accusation
s and hadn’t paid much attention.

  Fixated on surviving his captivity, he’d given little thought to how his loved ones were coping. And discovering on release that he’d been “dead” had had enough comic quality to trivialize the impact. Little wonder Jules had lost it in the car earlier.

  Oh, Dad, what have I done?

  Dealing with his troop mates’ supposed deaths had been different—he’d expected to join them within days. Through the darkest period of captivity Lee had even envied their quick passing. Mourning had been a luxury he couldn’t afford, not when all his emotional energy had been needed to survive. And not when his captives had beat him for any signs of emotion.

  Maybe his antipathy for Nate and Claire’s relationship stemmed from the fact that he hadn’t grieved Steve’s death.

  Whether or not they accepted it, he owed his army buddies a serious apology. After Mark’s begrudging reaction to his other apology, he only hoped he was getting better at it.

  On impulse he removed the CD, replaced it with the recording of his father’s funeral and forced himself to watch it. He suffered and celebrated his father’s life with all the people who’d had to do it without him. And through it all walked the woman he loved—supporting and comforting his siblings, standing arm in arm with his buddies.

  She hadn’t taken Lee’s place; she’d taken over his responsibilities.

  It was time to take them back.

  * * *

  NATE’S GLARE, FROM where he stood behind Ross and Dan, was the first thing Lee saw when he opened the door. “Honest to God,” Nate fumed, “if I didn’t understand how much you’re hurting and you hadn’t already been beaten to within an inch of your life a couple of times, I’d lay into you right now for the bullshit you threw at us. And if you ever, ever—” he stepped forward but neither of his flankers let him pass “—tell Claire that Steve was easily replaced, nothing will stop me. Are we clear?”

  Lee swallowed. “Yes, and I’m—”

  Nate steamrolled over Lee’s attempt to apologize. “Neither of you are replaceable, you jerk. Neither of you ever will be.”

  “I’m—”

  “You haven’t got the first clue of what we went through because you haven’t asked, dammit.”

  Dan put a hand on his shoulder and Nate shut up. “And we’ve all been so busy protecting you we didn’t tell you,” Shep said in a marginally calmer voice. “With the result that you’ve got some bat-shit crazy idea that we’ve all been skipping through daisies in your absence.”

  “That’s what I’m—”

  “Jesus, Lee.” Ice’s eyes were two pools of anguish. “Even with the mind-warping experiences you’ve had, you can’t seriously believe we wouldn’t have moved heaven and earth to find you if we’d had any hint you were still alive. I mean—”

  “Will you let me speak, goddammit!” he hollered.

  Silence.

  He opened his hands helplessly. “I’ve been stuck in my own private pity party and I’m sorry.”

  Nate folded his arms. “How sorry?”

  There was only one thing to do. Stepping forward, he hauled three angry men into a clumsy hug. “This sorry.”

  “How much are you hating this?” Ross asked a few seconds later. “On a scale of one to ten.”

  “Eleven,” Lee muttered.

  “Good.” Nate tightened his grip. “Hold for five more seconds, asshole.”

  “Ten,” Dan amended. “Let’s give the neighbors something to talk about.”

  When they broke apart, Dan kept a hand on Lee’s arm. “What you said,” he began, “had some merit. Ross and Nate weren’t in any fit state after the ambush, but I wasn’t in the firefight. I should have asked more questions. I—”

  “Stop!” Lee faced his friend head-on. “It was all self-pitying bullshit. It was easier pointing a finger than admitting I was screwed up. Mate, I just watched my memorial service. You carried everybody.”

  “It’s true,” Ross said. “In hospital Shep wouldn’t let me die.”

  “Neither of us would be here without Dan,” Nate agreed, then hesitated. “He stopped me doing myself in.”

  Lee’s mouth fell open. “What?”

  Ross swore. “Wait, how the hell do I not know that?”

  “Because at the time you were dying, dickhead,” Nate told him. “And later, if you recall, we all went off to our own corners, thinking we could fix ourselves.”

  Three pairs of eyes swung back to Lee. “Any of this resonating with you yet?” Dan asked.

  “None of you screwed up as badly as I have,” Lee said, leading the way into the house.

  “Always so competitive.” Dan plunked himself onto the couch. “We’ve all been there, mate.”

  Nate and Ross made themselves comfortable in armchairs.

  “I can’t believe that.” Lee remained in the doorway. “You’re the sanest people I know.”

  “Now,” said Dan. Shadows crossed his face. “But I was riddled with guilt for not being with you guys in the ambush. I tried to browbeat my best friend into marrying me without acknowledging how much she really meant to me.” He grinned. “If that’s not crazy I don’t know what is.”

  “I got hung up on revenge, too,” Ice said. “All I cared about was getting back to combat and dealing with the bastards who killed you and Steve.” Absently, he massaged his injured leg. “Even though the C.O. wouldn’t have let me near a weapon. Even though I could barely walk, let alone run. That’s how delusional I was.”

  “I walked away from everyone I cared about to punish myself for not dying with Steve,” Nate said. His dark eyes narrowed. “Your issues, mate, are positively girlie in comparison.”

  Lee could have kicked himself. Why hadn’t he asked questions before? “I’m sorry,” he said, vowing to remedy that error right now. “What exactly happened in the ambush?”

  Glancing at Nate, Ross and Dan stood. “We’ll go buy beers.” As they passed, Ross said, “You might want to sit down for this.”

  Lee sat on the armchair. Nate took a few minutes to gather himself and then he lifted his head to look Lee in the eye. “When the roadside bomb detonated you were thrown clear,” he said in a clipped tone. Clearly this was difficult for him. “Ross took an artery hit, was unconscious. Steve and I stabilized him in the middle of a firefight. At the same time, Steve was also trapped. His leg was caught. He ordered me to take Ross to safety. Said we weren’t all going to die that day.”

  He stopped. Swallowed.

  “I took Ross and left Steve. When the Humvee exploded and he was engulfed in fire, I shot him.”

  Unable to speak, Lee pulled up his chair beside Nate’s. They sat there for a long time. “Claire knows,” Nate finally said.

  “I’m sorry,” Lee rasped. “For being such an asshole, for doubting you and Dan and Ross. For giving you a hard time about Claire.... I’ve been so self-absorbed. Stuck in my own little nightmare for so long that I forgot about anyone else’s. Hell, mate.” He put one arm around Nate’s shoulders, then two.

  “You don’t do this stuff anymore,” Nate reminded him.

  “Shut up and hug me back.”

  Nate did.

  “One thing puzzles me,” Lee said later when Dan and Ross had rejoined them and they were sitting around the dining table with Steinlagers and plates of nachos. “Ajmal, my protector, told me you were all killed. Why would he have lied to me?”

  “Maybe he didn’t know,” Nate suggested. “Our vehicle was blown u
p and there was a lot of smoke and confusion. It would have been easy to assume we were all inside. Ross and I were flown to the military hospital in Germany, and Dan followed as soon as your supposed remains were found. None of us ever returned.”

  And he’d wondered why they hadn’t come to find him. “I’ll make it up to you. I swear,” he said.

  To their credit, none of them tried to make him feel better.

  “There wasn’t a day we didn’t think of you and Steve,” Ross said.

  “Not a day we don’t still miss him,” said Nate. “And to be clear—” he pinned Lee’s gaze “—I haven’t replaced Steve in Claire’s life, or Lewis’s. He meant too much to me for that. Love is expansive, there’s enough room for everybody. And I know this sounds corny but I even feel like I have Steve’s blessing.” Embarrassed, he cleared his throat. “And holy shit I’m sounding all new age and none of you guys are stopping me.”

  “Because we think you have Steve’s blessing, too,” Dan said quietly.

  “Thank you.” Nate looked cautiously at Lee.

  Lee chinked bottles with him. “Amen.”

  “We had this pact to live big to honor your memory.” Dan leaned his forearms on the table. “To live well for those no longer with us. You in?”

  ‘I’ve made a good start.” Lee decided it was time to lighten the mood. “Ms. Browne, she says yes.”

  “I am so good at this matchmaking shit,” Ross said with obvious satisfaction.

  There was a moment’s silence. Incredulous, Lee looked at Ice until the penny dropped. “Except for the Mark thing,” he added casually.

  They all burst into laughter.

  * * *

  MIRRORS, LEE DECIDED as he stared at his reflection, were still not his friends. Restrooms, on the other hand, were his refuge.

  Someone rattled the handle and he turned on the faucet and washed his hands though all he’d done in this community hall washroom was wish that Scotty would beam him up.