Waiting for You (A Contemporary Romance Novel)

by Abigail Strom

  “But if you like freedom so much…”

  “What?” he prompted her after a second.

  “I guess I think of the Army as pretty structured. Didn’t being a soldier mean giving up a lot of freedom?”

  “In some ways, yeah. Giving up some of your freedom is part of the sacrifice you make. But it feels good to be part of something bigger than you are. To be part of a unit, with guys depending on you.”

  “Do you ever miss it?”

  There was a pause. “Yeah,” he said slowly, after a minute. “Sometimes I do.”

  She started to ask another question and then stopped.

  “What?” he asked after a moment.

  “I was wondering what the hardest thing was about being back,” she said. “But you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

  He frowned down at the table for a minute. The look on his face reminded her of something, but she couldn’t think what it was right away.

  Then she remembered. Her father had broken his leg once, and he’d looked like that after the cast came off, right before he took his first step. Like he wasn’t sure the leg would bear his weight.

  “I guess the hardest thing is feeling like I’m from another planet.”

  His answer surprised her. “What do you mean?”

  She watched him trying to put his thoughts into words, and she wondered if he’d ever talked about this before. “I don’t really know how to be normal anymore. This kind of normal,” he added, gesturing around them.

  She wasn’t sure she understood, and it must have showed in her face, because he kept groping for words. “For the last ten years, my normal wasn’t anything like your normal. My life…” he shook his head. “It wasn’t this. And it’s hard to get used to this again. Soldiers dream about going home, but…” he paused. “Sometimes I feel like I don’t belong here anymore.”

  Her heart ached in her chest, but she knew better than to show obvious sympathy. And what could she say? She couldn’t say she understood how he felt, or anything that trite. Because she didn’t understand. Not really. She could grasp it intellectually, but not viscerally. Not without being in war zones for ten years.

  She asked a question, instead. “Do you ever talk about what it was like? To your family, or anyone?”

  He shook his head. “Not anymore. War is…hard to explain. To someone who hasn’t been there. And if you’ve gone through it, you don’t want to explain. You just want to go home, to be with your family. But then you do go home, and you realize that even if you did want to talk about it, there’s nobody around who would understand.”

  There was a sharp pain in her throat. One of Jake’s hands was on the table, fisted, and after a minute she reached out to cover it with hers.

  They stayed like that for a little while. Jake’s eyes were down, and he seemed to be looking at her small hand on his much larger one. Then he turned his hand over so they were palm to palm, and closed his fingers over hers in a warm grip.

  She’d always loved Jake’s hands. They were big and strong and callused, but she knew how gentle his touch could be.

  After a minute she knew it was time to break the contact. She was too aware of him, too conscious of his skin against hers. So she pulled her hand away as casually as she could and took a sip of root beer.

  “So, is it my turn now?”

  She looked up at him. “Your turn?”

  “To ask a question.”

  “Of course,” she said quickly. “You can ask me anything.”

  “Why are you still a virgin?”

  It was the last thing in the world she wanted to talk about—especially with Jake Landry. It was the last thing she would have talked about, too, if it was any other time and place. But she couldn’t get out of it now, after Jake had answered her questions.

  She’d said she didn’t want to talk about her personal life with him, but she was the one who’d started down that road tonight. And could she really set rules like that if they were going to be friends—real friends? Friends talked about their personal lives.

  After a long moment Jake said, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I shouldn’t have—”

  “No, it’s fine. I don’t mind.” She took a deep breath. “You know how you talked about not feeling normal? I feel that way too, sometimes. Because in this day and age, it’s not normal to be a twenty-seven-year-old virgin.”

  She tried to keep her tone light as she gave him a shortened version of the stories she’d told Beth that day at lunch. He listened quietly, and she was glad he didn’t get all defensive on her behalf, especially when she talked about Kevin.

  Then he asked the same thing Beth had. “But what happened after college? You’ve dated since then, haven’t you?”

  “Sure, I’ve dated. Just not anybody special. And the thing is…” she hesitated, looking down at the table and playing with her straw wrapper. “The thing is, the older you get without it happening, the easier it is for it not to happen. Because you’ve waited that long, and so it seems stupid to have sex just for the sake of having it, you know? Not that I wouldn’t consider having a one-night stand,” she added, not wanting to sound like a prude. “I would, if it was the right one-night stand. If there was really great chemistry, and…all that.”

  Which was coming closer to the stuff she really didn’t want to talk about. Specifically, the fact that she’d been ready to have a one-night stand with Jake.

  She cleared her throat. “Of course I’d rather find someone I could be serious about. But I don’t mind being single, either. I mean, I’m open to finding the right person, or whatever…but if I don’t, that’s okay, too. I don’t feel like I need a man to feel complete, or anything like that.”

  She was starting to babble, which meant it was time to bring this embarrassing conversation to a close. Besides, it was getting late.

  She’d tied her straw wrapper into a complicated knot with nervous fingers. Now she pushed it away and looked up at Jake again. His expression was neutral, which was oddly comforting. It would have been awful if it seemed like he was sorry for her, or something.

  But looking into his blue eyes, she forgot whatever it was she’d been about to say. Her stomach muscles tensed and goose bumps swept across her skin.

  She took a deep breath and looked away again, signaling to the waitress to bring their check. She had to be careful not to feel too much around Jake. She wanted to be his friend, but she could only do that if she protected herself. Jake had made it clear that a relationship was the last thing he wanted right now, and given the baggage he was carrying, she couldn’t blame him.

  And that meant she had to keep her guard up.

  “I’ve got an early day tomorrow,” she said as the waitress laid their bill on the table. “I should probably head home.”

  “I should call it a night, too.” Jake’s voice was as neutral as his expression.

  Erin wondered if he’d felt the same current she had, flowing between them when their eyes had locked.

  But she knew she was better off not knowing the answer.

  Chapter Seven

  Jake’s respect for Erin, already high, had now officially shot through the roof.

  He and Mark were sitting in front of their office computer, navigating the website Erin had designed for them. Erin was standing next to Jake, which meant he got a whiff of her perfume—violets, with a hint of spice underneath—every time she leaned forward to point something out on the computer screen. But even with that distraction, he was able to focus on the site she’d created.

  He’d known she was good, but he hadn’t known she was this good. She’d taken the material they’d sent her and crafted it into something amazing.

  There was a page showcasing the bikes he’d built. There was a page of client testimonials. There was a page that let you play around with designing your own bike, putting together chassis with different engines, gas tanks, exhaust systems, and other components. There was a page about the h
istory of motorcycles and motorcycle design, a page describing the different kinds of motorcycles available today, and an interactive page she’d called The Anatomy Of A Motorcycle.

  “This is incredible,” he said, turning to look at her.

  Her cheeks turned pink. “I’m glad you like it.”

  “There’s just one thing missing,” Mark said, leaning back in his chair when they were finally done trying out all the links and features.

  “Missing? What’s missing?” Erin asked with a frown.

  Mark grinned up at her. “The classic cheesecake shot. A girl in a bikini draped over one of Jake’s bikes, looking like something x-rated is going down any minute. Don’t you think we need one of those?”

  Jake knew he was joking, and Erin probably did, too. But she answered seriously.

  “I know a lot of sites have photos like that. But I don’t think you need one. It’s like the paint job Jake did on that last bike—with the muted colors and subtle design he used, the focus is all on the machine itself. No frills, no bells and whistles. Just leather and chrome and power. And I think that’s sexy enough on its own.”

  Jake stared at her. She thought motorcycles were sexy?

  “Okay, I’m sold,” Mark said after a moment. “No cheesecake for us. But Erin, I’ve got to say—for someone who seems to like motorcycles as much as you do, it’s a crime you’ve never actually ridden on one.”

  “We could go for a ride right now,” Jake said, even though he knew it was probably a bad idea. Erin on the back of his bike, with her arms wrapped around his waist? Definitely a bad idea. But in his life at the moment there were two things that made him feel good: motorcycles and Erin. And the idea of having those two things together, just once, was mighty tempting.

  “Fifteen minutes tops, and I promise not to go over forty miles an hour,” he added.

  She smiled back, but shook her head. “Sorry. I love the way they look, but I have no interest in them as an actual mode of transportation. I guess I’ve heard too many stories about motorcycle accidents.”

  “I’ve never been in an accident in my life,” Jake said. “Come on, Erin. You could miss out on a lot if you play it too safe.”

  “Words to live by,” Mark muttered, and Jake shot him a dirty look.

  “Thanks, but no,” she said firmly. “I’ll stick to four wheels for getting around, but I’m glad you like the site. We can go live whenever you’re ready to launch.”

  Jake’s eyes went back to the computer and he clicked on a link he hadn’t tried yet. He wondered what went into making something like this. “Could I see what it looks like from your end? Behind the scenes?”

  She raised an eyebrow. “You want to look under the hood?”

  Her analogy was so good he laughed out loud.

  So did Mark. “Yeah, that’s Jake for you. He always has to see the inner workings.” He got up from his chair and glanced at his watch. “I’m going to head home—I’ve got a hot date tonight and I smell like machine oil. Erin, don’t forget we’re taking you to dinner tomorrow.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “We want to,” he said with a grin. “You kicked ass on this site, and you could’ve charged us double what you did.”

  She shook her head but didn’t argue, and after Mark left she took his chair.

  “What do you want to see?” she asked Jake.

  “Whatever you do when you put this stuff together.”

  “It’s not that exciting,” she said. “I’m mostly writing a lot of code and building from templates. Here, I’ll show you what your source code looks like.” She clicked an icon in the upper corner of the browser, and the page filled with lines of colored text.

  She went on for a few more minutes, showing him the tools she used to build a site. He was interested, but after a few minutes his attention was split between what she was explaining and the way it felt to be this close to her.

  That perfume was like a damn drug.

  She paused, and he realized she’d asked a question. She was looking at him expectantly, and he found himself lost in her gray eyes. What the hell had she asked him?

  His phone buzzed, breaking his paralysis, and he pulled it out of his pocket. He glanced at the screen, saw it was Mindy, and put it back.

  “You can answer it,” Erin said.

  He shook his head. “It’s someone I don’t need to talk to.”

  “Family?” she hazarded.

  His shook his head again. “Mindy Nelson,” he said. “You probably don’t remember her.”

  “Of course I remember Mindy. You guys dated for almost a year. I always wondered if she was your first love.”

  He smiled a little. “Mindy and I were about lust, not love.”

  “Hmm. What about Jill Cates?”

  He shook his head. “I liked Jill a lot, but I didn’t love her.”

  “Celia?”

  “No. No one in high school.”

  “Okay, now you’ve made me curious. Tell me about the first woman you ever fell in love with.”

  That night at O’Malley’s, she’d asked him what it was like to be back—but she hadn’t asked him about his experiences overseas. Of course, she didn’t know this question would lead there.

  He thought about changing the subject. But instead he heard himself say, “Her name was Hope. She was a combat medic.”

  “Was?”

  He nodded. “She was killed by a roadside bomb two years ago.”

  Erin inhaled sharply. “Oh, Jake. I’m so sorry.”

  He wondered what she’d think if he told her the rest. That if Hope had never known him, she might be alive today.

  But he wouldn’t burden another person with the demons that haunted him. Hope’s death wasn’t the only loss he’d suffered, and if he started down that road there’d be no end to it. He shouldn’t have told Erin about Hope at all, but she was so damn easy to talk to. He forgot to keep his guard up when he was with her.

  “Let’s talk about something else,” he said.

  Erin nodded, her expression still troubled. He wanted to tell her it was okay, that he was okay—but the best thing he could do was change the subject.

  “Tell me about the worst mistake you ever made at work.”

  She blinked. “At work?”

  “Yeah. With one of your websites.”

  She took a deep breath, and he could see her trying to switch gears, trying to put what he’d told her behind her. That was the risk with conversation. You could be going along just fine, and then find yourself falling into an abyss you hadn’t even seen coming.

  “I know you’re a perfectionist, but you must have messed up at least once.”

  That made her smile. “You could say that, yes. The first big client I had was a local furniture company. I transposed two digits in their toll free customer service number, and who do you think their customers got connected to when they called to place their orders?”

  “The President of the United States?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Then I’m guessing a phone sex line.”

  “Close. A transvestite escort service.”

  He grinned. “Wow. So how’d you handle that one?”

  “I offered to maintain their website free of charge for six months, and I called all the customers who’d gotten the wrong number personally, to apologize.”

  “Did the company stay with you?”

  “They did. Luckily the site I’d made them was spectacular, and I did some internet marketing that helped drive their sales up fifteen percent in that six month period.”

  “Impressive.”

  “It saved my butt, anyway.”

  And it was a butt worth saving. When she’d walked into the garage today in a pair of faded jeans that hugged her like a second skin, he’d decided that Erin had the most gorgeous posterior he’d ever seen.

  “Can I ask you another question?” she asked.

  “Sure.”

  “It’s a tough one.”r />
  He doubted it would be as hard as the last one. “Go ahead.”

  She hesitated a moment, and then asked, “Do you believe the world is a good place?”

  That wasn’t tough at all. “No.”

  She looked surprised. “Just like that? You don’t even have to think about it?”

  He shrugged. “When Megan got sick, I was in Afghanistan on my first tour of duty. I was a soldier in a war zone, with death breathing down my neck every day. And Megan was just a kid. It never occurred to me that I could live and she could die.” He paused. “But Megan’s dead, and I’m still here. So, no, I don’t believe the world is a good place.”

  He half expected Erin to argue with him. When she didn’t, he asked, “What about you? Do you think the world is a good place?”

  She looked thoughtful. “I don’t know. I want to believe it is.”

  He hadn’t expected that. Somehow, he would’ve thought Erin had a simpler relationship with this stuff than he did. “But you’re not sure?”

  She hesitated. “When I was little, I used to pray that my mom would come and take me away with her. My dad wasn’t a bad man, but after mom left he kind of…closed down. He never hugged me, never said I love you. He made sure I had a roof over my head and food to eat, and that was it.”

  She leaned back in her chair and slid her hands into her jeans pockets. “Of course my mom never came for me. I was always shy in school, and before I met Allison I didn’t have any good friends. I used to get so lonely…” She shook her head. “Back then, it was hard to believe the world was a good place. And when I grew up and started to look past my own experience, I saw plenty of evidence that it’s a terrible place. Disease and violence and poverty…and people out there much lonelier than I had ever been.”

  His heart tightened in his chest. He’d met Erin’s dad a few times and he seemed like a taciturn man, but Erin had never talked about her home life and he hadn’t known what it was like.

  “Was that why you used to come over so much? When we were kids?”