He laughed, rolling atop her for kissing and exploring and making love at a much more leisurely pace.
An hour later, back in the lake as the sun made a lazy fall from the sky, she said, “I never thought to ask, but are there alligators in this water?”
“Probably.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Also, a few water moccasins, snapping turtles and maybe even alligator gar.”
“So we’re swimming why?”
He tossed back his head and laughed. “Damn good question.”
Lifting her into his arms, he carried her from the water, kissing her along the way. He set her on the picnic table before asking, “Want me to build a fire or should we check on the kids?”
Hugging him, she said, “I like the sound of that—the two of us together, checking on our kids. Because you know Cayden already loves you like a father.”
He bowed his handsome head. “I love him, too.”
“Since you’re not leaving, are we back on for tomorrow? We’ll already be in Shreveport, so I thought we might also hit that new Bossier City walking mall by the river. Maybe see a movie? Vivian said the theater’s really nice. Plus, Bass Pro’s always fun.”
“Whoa.” Holding up his hands, he slowly backed away. “I think we have a misunderstanding. Brynn, being with you just now was amazing—beyond amazing—but that’s all it can be. I can’t commit. Not right now. You know that. I’m a mess inside and afraid. As much as I enjoyed what just happened, that doesn’t change the fact that first thing Monday morning, I’m leaving.”
* * *
“HE’S HORRIBLE,” VIVIAN SAID when Brynn finished telling her the shameful outcome of her afternoon with Tristan. After more bitter fighting and tears, she’d had him drop her at her friend’s house so she’d have her kids and car. “I don’t know why I encouraged you to go for him. Obviously, it was a bad call.”
Temporarily out of tears, Brynn sniffled.
“Know what?” Vivian moved to the sofa, patting Brynn’s leg. “This is probably for the best. Sean said they just hired a new guy at his firm, and he’s single. Do you know how rare it is to find a single attorney our age? I’ll have Sean get his number and we’ll have a barbecue.”
“Stop,” Brynn said. “Last thing I need is to meet another man. I was stupid for ever letting myself fall for Tristan. I knew better from the start, but he was so good with Cayden and easy to talk to and always making me laugh—he even mows the lawn.”
Vivian chimed in, “Lord, does he look fine doing that...”
“See? That’s what I’m talking about. He was too good to be true and I was too blind to see.”
“What are you going to tell Cayden? He’ll be crushed when Tristan leaves.”
Groaning, Brynn leaned forward, covering her face with her hands. “I don’t know. I don’t know.”
“He was so happy after today’s game.”
After losing his second father in a little over a year, Brynn feared her son might never be happy again.
* * *
“YOU’VE MADE A LOT OF BAD decisions over the years,” Tristan’s mother said Sunday morning while he changed the oil in his truck, “but this one takes the cake, cookies and muffins.”
“Thanks, Mom. Appreciate the vote of confidence.”
She snorted. “Pardon my French, but if you ask me, you’re a damn fool.”
“Didn’t ask anyone—let alone, you.” On his back, he tugged extra hard on the nut holding the oil pan in place and damn near got a face full of dirty, black goo.
“I heard you call her earlier about setting up a time to say your goodbyes to little Cayden. I never took you to be deliberately cruel.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He finished draining the old oil. “I did everything in my power to help the kid.”
“Agreed—including forging a genuine relationship. He believes you care for him.”
“I do.”
“Then how can you stand to leave him? Over the summer, I’ve seen the two of you together. He worships you, and it’s plain to see whenever you’re around him that to you, he’s become like a second son.”
“Please, Mom...” Tristan reassembled the oil pan, then slid out from under the truck. “Just like I do with Jack, I’ll keep in touch. I’ll see him every time I come see you.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier to just marry his mom?”
“Then what?” He hated snapping at his mother but wasn’t sure how else to get his point across. “How am I supposed to support a family with no job? Should I move back here and clerk at a convenience store? I’m a SEAL. That’s all I know how to be. Why tie down Brynn and her kids to a man who not only regularly gets shot at, but is never even home?”
She turned her back on him to huff onto the front porch. “Excuses, excuses.”
“It’s reality!” he shouted, kicking his truck’s front tire.
She’d already slammed the door.
* * *
“WHY’RE YOU CRYING, MOM?”
The Sunday afternoon sun cast a lacy shadow through the curtains and onto the hardwood floor. Brynn squinted and dried her eyes with the pillowcase before rolling in the bed to face her son. When she’d put Mackenzie down for her nap, she assumed she’d been alone. “Cayden. Thought you and Dom were in your fort?”
“We were, but he had to leave to go school shopping.” He sat on the foot of the bed. “When’re we gonna go?”
“Real soon, sweetie.”
“Okay.”
She sat up, blowing her nose on a tissue she took from the box on the nightstand.
“You never did say why you were crying. You sick?”
Sort of. Did she prep him? Telling him why Tristan would be over in a little under thirty minutes?
“’Cause if you are, I can get you medicine. I promised Tristan I’d take care of you and he told me a SEAL never goes back on his word.”
Really? But then Tristan had never made her promises as much as she’d made assumptions.
“Thanks, pumpkin, but I don’t need anything but a nice, big hug.”
“Okay!” He bounced over the bed to ambush her from behind.
From downstairs came the sound of the doorbell.
“Who’s here?” he asked, jumping his way off the bed.
Brynn’s stomach knotted.
It was the wrong time of year for Girl Scout cookies and Georgia was spending the afternoon with her granddaughter’s family, which could only mean Tristan was early.
Cayden bounded down the stairs. “It’s Tristan! I’m letting him in, Mom!”
“Hey, bud.” Brynn heard Tristan say from where she hovered at the top of the stairs. She couldn’t imagine Cayden’s reaction—didn’t want to.
“Mom!” her son shouted. “Tristan’s here!”
Her flighty hands trying to bring order to her hair, she took her time on the stairs. Should she act surprised he was here? Would he have wanted her to get Cayden prepared for his visit? On the flip side, why would she help him break her son’s heart?
Upon seeing him sitting ramrod straight on the sofa, holding a faded ball cap in his hands, all her dry mouth could handle was a simple, “Hi.”
They shared a long, cold look.
Her body stupidly craved his touch. She hated that—how her brain knew he was trouble, but the rest of her only wanted more.
“Wanna play catch?” Cayden asked. “I left my mitt at Dom’s, but I can ride my bike real fast to get it.”
Tristan cleared his throat, looking to Brynn as if she might better know how to deliver his news. But he’d be wrong. “That sounds fun,” he finally said, “but I need you to sit down.” He patted the sofa cushion beside him. “I’ve got something kind of important to run by you.”
“Okay. Then we can go outsi
de?”
“Nope. Not today.” Tristan repeatedly flipped the cap. A nervous reaction? Buying time to think up something to say? Or all of the above?
“How come?” Cayden asked with a scowl. “Now that I made a home run, I’ve gotta get ready for the state tourney.”
“I know, and Coach Jason already promised me he’d find someone to help.”
Cayden cocked his head. “How come you can’t keep doing it?”
“Remember how we talked about me being in the navy?”
“Uh-huh...”
Tristan forced a deep breath. “Well, when my son, Jack, moved to California, I was kinda upset. But now that I feel better, I have to get back to work.”
“Okay...” Cayden still looked confused. “But you’re gonna get a job like Mom, right? Where you just go away during the day and then you’re home when I get out of school or practice?”
“Not exactly.”
Cayden yawned, which Brynn took as a sign that he hadn’t anywhere near grasped what Tristan was saying. “Then you’re just gonna be gone sometimes like my dad? But then you’ll be home?”
Handing him the hat, Tristan said, “I want you to have this. It was mine when I used to be a Mud Bug with your dad.”
“Really?” His eyes widened. “That’s cool. But why don’t you give it to Jack?”
“He likes surfing and skateboarding more than baseball. And anyway, this hat means a lot to me, and so...so do you.” Tristan’s voice cracked. “When you wear it, I want you to do me a favor and think about me, okay?”
“Sure. I guess...” Cayden put Tristan’s childhood hat backward on his head. It was a perfect fit. “But whenever you’re here, I think about you all the time.”
“That’s just it.” Noticeably pale, Tristan looked to Brynn, but she looked away. He forged ahead. “I’m going to be living in a place called Virginia Beach, and it’s kind of a long way away.”
“Wait—” Cayden’s eyes filled with tears. “You mean you’re moving? Like me and Mom did when we left St. Louis? So like I’ve never seen any of my friends or teachers or my dad ever again, that’s gonna be the same as you?”
“Bud...” To his credit, Tristan’s eyes had grown equally red.
“W-why are you doing this?” Cayden asked on a coughing sob. “I thought you loved me and Mom and Mackenzie? B-but if you do love us, then you wouldn’t leave.”
“Your dad left, and he loved you.”
“That isn’t the same!” Cayden jumped to his feet. “My doctor says bad guys killed my dad! He’s dead! You’re just leaving because you don’t like us anymore!”
“Ah, Cayden, that’s not how it is at all...”
“I hate you!” Brynn’s boy shouted on his way out the door. “I hate you and you can keep your stupid hat!” Cayden pitched it at him. “I don’t ever want to think of you again!”
“Swell.” Hands tucked in his jean pockets, Tristan said, “Like mother, like son.”
Chapter Sixteen
Cayden ran and ran through the neighborhood until he was kind of lost. But then he saw Miss Georgia pulling weeds out of her backyard and he remembered how nice she’d always been to him, so he went to ask her for help.
“Hello, there.” She smiled when he came close. “You’re a fine mess. All sweaty. Want some of my special pink lemonade?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She pointed to the pretty covered swing she sat on a lot when she looked at her flowers. “Sit a spell and I’ll be right back.” Over her shoulder, she asked, “Want cookies, too?”
He nodded.
By the time she got back, carrying a big plate of chocolate chip cookies and a plastic cup with lemonade and lots of ice, he’d stopped crying, but didn’t feel better.
While he ate cookies, Miss Georgia sat next to him, making the swing sway just a little with her bare feet. “Now that you’ve had refreshment, how about telling me what’s got you in a dither?”
He looked at her all squinty. “I’m not really sure what that means.”
“It’s just a fancy way of asking what has you upset.”
“Lots.” After drinking half his lemonade, he let out a big breath. “Guess what Tristan just told me?”
“What?” She leaned in closer.
“He’s leaving Ruin Bayou and never coming back.”
“Really...” She didn’t seem as surprised as he’d been. “I was afraid of that.”
He grabbed a cookie from the plate she held on her lap. “How’d you even know?”
“I’m very old, so not much surprises me.” She put her arm around his shoulders and gave him a squeeze. “Things do make me sad, though. And this is for sure one of those things. I’d have bet good money Tristan was going to make you a great second dad.”
Cayden tried hard not to, but he started crying again. “M-me, too.”
* * *
“I’LL BE DAMNED...” Tristan’s old roomie, fellow SEAL Calder Remington, held open the apartment door. “We were all beginning to wonder if we’d ever see you again.”
Tristan shrugged on his way through the door. “Thanks for letting me in. Not sure what I did with my key.”
“You look like hammered shit.”
“You’re too kind.” Dropping his duffel bag on the living-room floor, Tristan added, “Feel like it, too.”
“Everyone else know you’re back?”
“Just the CO.”
Exhausted from the eighteen-hour drive, Tristan fell into a recliner. The place smelled the same—like beer and stale pizza. The upstairs neighbor’s base still thumped through the ceiling and there were still no knickknacks to speak of or pictures hung on the walls. He used to feel comfortable here. Now it felt lifeless and sterile. He much preferred Brynn’s or even his mom’s. But it was too late to second-guess his decision to leave now.
He hadn’t even given Brynn a proper hug goodbye—let alone the final kiss he’d craved.
“Then you know?”
Tristan had closed his eyes, imagining her gorgeous freckled face, but he opened one eye to look at his old friend. “Know what?”
“We’re shipping out in the morning. Somalia. Should be a real good time.”
* * *
HAVING SPENT LABOR DAY WITH Vivian and Sean, Brynn worked hard on Tuesday keeping herself busy getting Cayden ready for school.
Since his last talk with Tristan, her son hadn’t been the same. He clung to her like he hadn’t since immediately following Mack’s death and seeing his smile had become as elusive as spotting a rainbow-striped unicorn in the backyard.
He was watching a favorite Disney movie when the phone rang.
The caller ID number was so odd she almost didn’t answer. “Hello?” she asked out of boredom.
“Brynn?” Her racing heart recognized the voice before her head.
“Tristan?” Why was he calling? They’d already said more than she could bear.
“Please don’t hang up. I’m calling from Germany and I don’t have long before catching my next ride.”
Questions raced through her mind. What was he doing so far away? Was he on a mission? Was it dangerous?
“Listen, I don’t know when I’ll be back in the country, but before I leave, I have to tell you again I’m sorry.”
Tears welled in her eyes and knotted her throat.
“I don’t regret leaving—well, I do, but for selfish reasons. I want better for you than me. I want you to have a real, stay-home kind of husband and for Cayden to have a dad who’s there for every ball game.”
“Oh—” A ragged laugh escaped the lump in her throat. “So you think I can just head out on a street corner to replace you? Maybe put an ad in the paper?”
“Dammit, Brynn, you know what I mean.”
> “No, Tristan, I don’t know anything about you. I thought I did, but then you made love to me and left town. Wham bam, thank you, ma’am.”
“It wasn’t like that and you know it.”
She sighed, turning her back to the living room in case seven-year-old ears listened. “Then tell me what it was like, because I’m kind of confused.”
“I called to hopefully give us both closure, but I can see that’s not happening.”
“You want closure?” she snapped. “You got it. Never call me again.”
“Brynn... Come on, don’t be like this. I don’t know when we’ll talk again.”
“Then you shouldn’t have left.” So furious she was shaking, Brynn hung up the phone.
One second later, she regretted it and frantically tried calling back, but she got a recording about the number being only for outgoing calls.
“Mom?” Cayden joined her in the kitchen. “Who was on the phone? You sounded mad.”
“No, sweetie.” She comforted herself by giving him a hug. “Just someone trying to sell something I wasn’t in the mood to buy.”
* * *
TRISTAN’S SUPPOSEDLY in-and-out mission to Somalia turned into what was starting to feel like a never-ending siege. A particularly violent drug cartel had attempted a government takeover and his team had been charged with tracking the lovely bunch of thugs. Tristan and his buddies were posing as an oil exploration crew while gathering intelligence. Months had passed during which he hadn’t been able to get word to Jack or Cayden, let alone his mom or Brynn.
Tristan had a couple of great pics of Jack he kept in his chest pocket, along with a print he’d made before leaving the States of the Fourth of July shot he’d taken of the Langtoine clan. As it was early November, meaning they were fortunate enough to be enjoying the Somalian Dayr, or fall rainy season, everything he owned was damp. He kept his pics in a Ziploc baggy, insuring his most valuable possessions remained safe and dry.
“Look at that much more, you’re going to burn a hole in it.”
“With my laser eyes?” Tristan shot Garrett a look he hoped conveyed to his longtime friend to mind his own business.
“You don’t have to be testy. It’s not like most of us haven’t been in your place at one time or another. I miss Eve and our kids so bad it hurts, but we just gotta soldier through.”
The SEAL's Valentine (Operation: Family) Page 16