“Yes, sir, I agree. As I said it’s a lot to think about.” The walls seemed to be closing in on him. “Is that all, sir?”
“Yes, but seriously think about it, Masters. It will be good for you.”
Ethan stood, saluted his superior officer and walked out of the office. He closed the door and leaned back against the wall.
What the hell was he going to do?
*
No, I will not check my phone.
Isabella kept chanting that line over and over in her mind as she sat in the staff room, eating her lunch. Five days had passed since her last text conversation with Ethan. How hard was it to send a how-are-you-doing text? It wasn’t hard at all; anyone could do it.
Well, why haven’t you?
Okay, yes, the voice was correct, she could’ve, and she’d picked up her phone a couple of times to do that. Except fear at putting herself out there had held her back. If he weren’t so committed to his career, it would be a no-brainer. She’d be calling and texting him. Hell, if he weren’t in the air force, she’d have leaped into his arms when he said he wanted to see her again.
“Oh, my God, if you glance at your phone once again, I’m going to throw it out the window,” Meredith grumbled from across the table.
“I wasn’t looking at it.” Busted. She was totally gazing at her phone.
“Right, and I’m really the pope in disguise. Why don’t you just pick up the phone and call or send him a text? It’s not like you haven’t made the first move before.”
“He said he’d be in touch, so I’m waiting.” Wow, that even sounded lame to her ears.
“Geez, Isabella, that’s lame.” The ability to practically read each other’s minds was why they were best friends. They’d shared many secrets and ice cream over late-night marathon study sessions at Stephen F. Austin. In fact, it had been a while since they’d had one of those nights. Maybe they should do it again, and soon.
“We need to do an ice cream night.” Isabella voiced her idea out loud. “What about Friday night?”
“What happens if GI Joe calls to arrange a date? Are you going to blow me off?”
Isabella almost choked on her sandwich. “What did you call him?”
Laughing, her friend tossed a potato chip in her direction. “You heard me. But I’m dead serious, I’m all for you dating, but I don’t want to be blown off. That’s not cool.”
“Since when have I ever blown you off for a date?”
“Never,” Meredith said on a shrug. “But there’s always a first time for everything.”
Isabella held up her right hand and covered her heart with it. “I, Isabella Knowles, do solemnly swear and declare that I will never blow off my best friend, Meredith Turner, after we make plans, no matter how awesome my date is or the event he has planned for us.”
Another chip sailed in her direction, and this time Isabella caught it and popped it in her mouth.
“Well, that’s going to the extreme, but I totally appreciate it.”
“Good, now you do it to me.”
Meredith rolled her eyes but repeated Isabella’s words and actions.
“Good, now that’s settled,” Isabella said with a satisfied nod. “Friday night, ice cream, and binge watching a show to be determined upon your arrival.”
“Sounds good.”
A few minutes later Isabella’s phone buzzed, signaling an incoming text.
Meredith laughed. “You know who that is, don’t you?”
Well, she hoped she knew, but no way was she going to give Meredith the satisfaction of grabbing up her phone to confirm both their suspicions, no matter how much she wanted to do just that. “I have no idea.”
“Oh, please stop. You totally want to snatch up your phone and read your message.”
The phone buzzed again. Now it was getting hard to ignore. Isabella took another bite of her lunch, but her gaze kept darting to her phone.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake, Iz, just pick up the damn phone.” Meredith pushed the device toward her.
Sighing, she picked up the phone and her suspicions were corrected—Ethan had texted her. Butterflies formed in her stomach and she wasn’t sure she wanted to open the messages. Maybe he was giving her the brush-off. Maybe he was letting her know he was about to deploy.
Neither option appealed to her and he didn’t seem the type of guy to break up, or send bad news through something as impersonal as a text message.
For crap’s sake, she’d been independent since she made the decision to marry at eighteen. She thought of herself as a strong woman—the way she was acting over a couple of messages was really pathetic.
She picked up the phone and pulled up the message app.
“Hey, Izzy. Sorry I haven’t contacted you, work has been crazy. Are you free Friday night?”
Of course, he’d want to make plans with her the second after she’d made plans with Meredith. It was always the way. Why couldn’t he have said Saturday night?
“Is it GI Joe?” Meredith asked around a mouthful of her lunch.
Isabella rolled her eyes at her friend. “Yes, it’s from Ethan. He wants to know if I’m free Friday night.”
Meredith lowered her sandwich. “And?”
Meredith clearly expected her to cancel the plans they’d made five minutes ago. Only a selfish friend would ever ditch their girl after making arrangements. Never in her life had she backed out, and she wasn’t planning to start now. “And I’m going to tell him I have plans.”
“You know you can change them if you want. I don’t mind.”
Another reason she loved Meredith—she was selfless. But Isabella missed spending time with her friend and she really did want to spend the night eating ice cream while watching romantic movies on Hallmark Channel. If Ethan was the type of guy she thought he was, he’d totally understand.
“I’m not breaking my word, Mere. I’m going to text Ethan and tell him I’m busy.”
“I’ve already got plans Friday night with my friend, Meredith. I’m free Saturday.”
Isabella hit send before she could second-guess herself. She placed the phone face down on the table beside her.
“Did you let him know you’re free Saturday night? Because if you didn’t, I may have to knock some sense into you.”
Isabella laughed, her heart warming. “Yes, I told him I was free Saturday night.”
Before she could say anything else, her phone buzzed again. This time she didn’t dillydally.
“Saturday is out unfortunately. We have an overnight training exercise. Maybe next Friday?”
Training exercise.
Her heart pounded in her chest and a wave of heat flowed through her body. Travis had died at a training exercise. A rubber bullet struck his chest in between heartbeats, killing him. In a split second, the life she dreamed of was snatched away with a visit from the chaplain.
She couldn’t do this again.
Maybe fate had been trying to protect her since the second she met Ethan. Why else would it seem like they went two steps forward and ten steps back?
“Iz, what is it? What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Nothing, it’s nothing.” But her voice shook.
Meredith stood, her chair scraping loudly across the floor. “Don’t lie. Who sent you a text?”
“Ethan.”
“Okay, what did he say that caused this reaction? Do I have to go deal with some stupid soldier ass?”
“Airman. He’s air force, so he’s an airman, not a soldier.”
“Tomato. Tomahto. What’s going on, Iz?”
Meredith knew about her past. She’d understand why Ethan’s message triggered panic. Isabella looked at her friend, knowing the pain flowing through her was displayed in her eyes. “He can’t meet me on Saturday because he’s going on a training exercise.”
Meredith’s arms closed around her. They stayed like that for a few minutes. “It doesn’t mean it’s going to turn out the same way,” her friend
finally said. “I bet he’s been on tons of training exercises and nothing’s happened to him. You know what happened to Travis was a freak accident, right? You can’t let the past hold you back from your future. Have a little fun. You’ve got nothing to lose.”
After she’d emerged from the fog of mourning Travis’s death and the death of her dream life, she’d vowed never again to get involved with a military man. Yet here she was, dating a man in the armed forces.
What Meredith said was true. What happened to Travis was a one-in-a-million occurrence, and Isabella should continue seeing Ethan because she enjoyed the banter they’d shared the last two times they’d been together, not to mention their text conversations. But her heart was begging her to run as far as she could to keep them both safe from shattering again.
Now was not the time to tempt fate, no matter how gorgeous Ethan Masters was.
Chapter Eight
Tapping his fingers on his steering wheel, Ethan looked out the window at Isabella’s house.
“I’m making a big mistake, aren’t I, Sam?”
It wasn’t normal to have his K-9 partner with him, but he’d sought permission to bring Sam home and Lieutenant Colonel Blue had allowed it. Anyone could’ve knocked him over with a squeaky toy when he’d received the affirmative. Ethan had quickly exited the office before Blue could change his mind.
Sam yipped behind him, no doubt telling him she was fed up with sitting in the back of the car.
“Okay, okay,” he said beneath his breath, reached over to the seat beside him, and grabbed the bag of takeout Chinese and Sam’s leash.
Turning up on Isabella’s doorstep uninvited, with a bag of food and a dog, was like running into a gunfight without a gun. The chances this move would come back to bite him in the butt were huge, especially after the radio silence between them for the last week and a half.
He should cut and run. Except he never gave up on anything. There was a connection between him and Isabella, one he didn’t want to ignore.
If she asked him to leave, he would, but he had to hear it from her.
Once Sam was clipped to her lead, he closed the car door and activated the alarm. The beep echoed around the quiet night. So much for surprising her.
“Let’s go, Sam,” he said quietly, and he and his partner wandered up the short path to the front door. His finger hovered over the doorbell, hesitating again. Sam nudged his leg; even she was impatient with his indecisiveness.
What was it about Isabella that made him act so out of character? Being this wishy-washy could get him killed when he and Sam were working. And wouldn’t his teammates have a field day teasing him if they knew that, when he was around Isabella, he had the confidence of a piece of sand.
Ethan pressed the white round button. He tapped his fingers against his legs as he waited for her to answer the door. Sam sat obediently beside him, panting quietly into the night, until her ears perked up.
His grip tightened on the bag as the door opened.
“Ethan? Wh-what are you doing here?”
Holding up the bag, he pasted a smile on his face, ignoring the look of panic in her eyes. “Dinner?”
Wow, smooth, Masters, real smooth. That’s certainly going to impress her.
He cleared his throat. “What I meant to say was Hi, Isabella, I’ve brought you dinner.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “What if I’ve already eaten?”
Sam barked, drawing Isabella’s gaze away from him, giving him a few seconds to get himself under control. It was make or break time. “You brought your dog? I didn’t know you had a pet.”
“Sam isn’t my pet, she’s my working partner. I work in the K-9 division in the air force.”
“You can bring your working dog home with you each night? That’s good.”
Well, she might not have asked him in yet, but at least she was talking to him and the look of panic fading from her eyes. Bringing Sam was looking like a stroke of genius.
“No, working dogs stay on base.”
“And yet, here you are with your dog.” Her eyebrow rose, her arms dropped to her side, and a soft smile played across her lips.
“Let’s just say I caught my lieutenant colonel on a good day. Can we come in?”
“Umm, sure.” She stepped back and waved an arm. “Come on in.”
Sam’s nails clipped on the hardwood floor as they made their way down Isabella’s hallway. He headed for the kitchen to put the food down. He’d dodged the first bullet. She hadn’t had the door shut in his face. That would’ve been awkward.
“Dinner, huh? What culinary delights have you brought to tempt me with?”
“I’ve brought some Chinese,” he said as he placed the bag on the kitchen counter.
“It smells good,” she responded as she grabbed some plates from the cupboard.
“I went to the best place in San Antonio.” He began to pull out the boxes. “I’ve got egg rolls, sweet and sour pork, Kung Pao chicken, Szechuan beef, fried rice, and steamed rice.”
“Are there more people coming for dinner? Because that’s a heck of a lot of food for two people. I imagine Sam won’t be getting any.”
Ethan chuckled. Yeah, he had gone overboard. “I wasn’t sure what you liked so I wanted to cover all bases. And you’re correct, Sam won’t be getting any.”
The dog let out a small whimper from her place on the floor. He looked at his K-9 partner and shook his head. She got plenty of treats and had a bowl of kibble before he left base; she shouldn’t be hungry at all.
“Aww, that’s not fair for Sam,” Isabella murmured as she went to pat the dog, but she stopped before she touched her and straightened again. “Am I allowed to touch her?”
Ethan gave a hand signal, and the dog rose and nudged Isabella’s hand. “She’s off duty. You can pet her.”
A smile stretched Isabella’s lips wide and her blue eyes sparkled. She squatted down and started patting and cooing to his partner.
As much as he’d like to continue watching them getting to know each other, he transferred his attention back to the food. The plan he’d come up with when he’d made the decision to get Sam for the night, was to find out once and for all if they had a future together. Sam was doing exactly what he hoped she would, breaking the ice between them.
“Your Sam really is beautiful,” Isabella said.
“She’s a good dog. I would be lost without her.”
The scent of wildflowers wafted around him as Isabella came to stand beside him. “How long have you two been a team?”
“Three years. She’s my second dog. My first one was getting close to retirement age. Violet was a great dog as well, and I think she taught me more than I ever thought a dog could.”
“How so?” Isabella asked as she began heaping her plate with a combination of the chicken and sweet and sour dish. Another point on his side—he’d picked food she liked.
Ethan grabbed a plate and followed suit. Once they were seated, he picked up the conversation. “I was just out of training and, like all rookies, I believed I was untouchable. I thought I knew everything about being a K-9 handler, as I’d been in security forces since I enlisted, just another squadron. We were in a training exercise, and no matter how many times my trainer told me to trust in Violet, I still believed I knew everything.”
“That’s, um, bad.”
“Tell me about it. Anyway, one of the devices was smoking when it shouldn’t have been. If Violet hadn’t pushed me in the opposite direction, we would’ve been in the direct line of fire when it exploded. From that second on, I didn’t second-guess her when her behavior changed. I learned my lesson. The dog is always right. It’s our job to go into buildings first. Sam’s job is to sniff out any hidden dangers, and I report back to the team. If I don’t trust my partner, it could end up in a disaster.”
Isabella’s fork clattered to her plate.
Fuck, why do I always mention how dangerous my job is?
He couldn’t avoid talking a
bout his job though; it was who he was. Getting Isabella off side wasn’t going to help him with his real mission tonight.
Ethan reached over the table and laid a hand over hers. “It was one time and, as you can see, I’m still here.”
She pushed away from the table, as though she wanted to get as far away from him as possible.
“I think you should go. Thank you for bringing me dinner.” She was out of the kitchen before he could even stand up.
Shit, he’d well and truly fucked things up.
Was pursuing Isabella really worth all this pain?
Yes.
His job was always about protecting people and the guys in his team. He wanted to protect Isabella. She was hurting, and he needed to know why so he could fix it. If, in the end, walking away was what she needed him to do, he would. But only after they’d really talked. Laid everything out on the table. Plus, his attraction for her wasn’t dying; it was getting stronger with every second he spent with her.
Without knowing all the facts, he was riding blind. Nothing ever good came of not seeing where you were going.
Sam trotted down the hallway behind Isabella and Ethan stared at his partner. Never before had Sam gone off on her own, especially not without a command from him. What was his dog doing?
He followed his dog, attempting to get his thoughts in order. He needed to fix this situation and fast.
As he reached the living room he stopped dead. Isabella was sitting on the couch. Sam had jumped up beside her and laid her head in Isabella’s lap. Isabella, in turn, was running a hand down her back in an automatic motion as if this were a normal, everyday occurrence. Offering comfort wasn’t a usual action for a K-9 dog; there were service dogs who did that for victims.
He wandered into the room and squatted down in front of Isabella, laying a tentative hand on her knee. She didn’t brush him off; he took it as a good sign.
“I’m sorry, Izzy. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Keeping his voice low and modulated, he added, “I keep saying the wrong thing when I’m around you. It was never my intention to come here tonight and tell you about my close calls.”
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