A Baby for the Soldier (Boys of Rockford Series Book 2)

by Henley Maverick

“Narnia!”

  I smiled. He might have taken after Wyatt in a lot of ways, but he’s always shared my love of books. He’s plenty capable of reading to himself, but we both liked the ritual of me reading him a story, and in doing that, I got to introduce my son to some of my favorite classics. We’d already worked through Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, Charlotte’s Web, and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. We were about half-way through The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, and it was just starting to get to the good parts. Every night, I read one chapter, and lately, he’d been asking me to read another. Sometimes I’d do it, because I loved watching his eyes light up with the love of a story. And because we could both use the escapism.

  “Chapter nine, in the witch’s house,” I read, letting the words flow through me, wrapping around us both, carrying us far off to Narnia with Mr. and Mrs. Beaver.

  There was no asking for a second chapter tonight, because Dallas was fast asleep by the time I got to the end of the one. I knew I’d probably have to re-read a few pages, but that wasn’t at all unusual, and I’d never minded reading.

  I tucked him in a little tighter, kissed him on the forehead, and turned off the light, marking my page in the book and leaving it on his nightstand. I guess playing with Bear really tuckered him out, I thought with a little smile as I slipped across the hall to my room.

  The next morning, I got up with my first alarm, headed down to start the coffee pot, and just as I was going back upstairs for my shower, there was a knock on the door.

  I frowned. As far as I knew, no one was supposed to be dropping by…

  I opened the door, still in my jammies, and sighed. Should’ve known.

  “Hi Mom,” I said, opening the door enough for her to come in.

  “Hi sweetie,” she said, giving me a one-armed hug. “I brought you some donuts. You’ve been getting so skinny, I just know you’re not eating enough.”

  “Mom, I’m fine,” I told her, eying the box of donuts the whole time.

  “So I should just leave with these?”

  “And not have a cup of coffee with them? What are you, a heathen?”

  She grinned at me and I smiled back, leading her into the kitchen where the coffee pot was just finishing up its work.

  “Guess I’ve got good timing,” she said, pulling mugs out of the cupboard for us before going to the fridge for the milk.

  “Yeah, actually.” For once. Now that I’ve had a few days without her constant presence, she doesn’t annoy me nearly as much.

  “So what are you really doing here?” I asked once we were both sat at the kitchen table with a coffee and a donut.

  “To bring you donuts, of course,” she said, almost offended.

  “Mom…” I gave her a serious look.

  She sighed, shoulders slumping. “I’m worried about you, honey. Can you blame me? I just wanted to check on you.”

  I blew out a heavy breath. “Thanks… But I really am fine, Mom. I’ve even got plans tonight, believe it or not.”

  “Oh?” she asked, her eyebrows shooting up.

  “Yeah, dinner.”

  “With whom?”

  “Bear,” I muttered.

  Slowly, a smile turned her lips. “Oh, really? With Dallas?”

  I cleared my throat, looking away. “No.”

  “So you have a date?”

  She looked far too hopeful. I needed to quash that right away. “No Mom, it’s not like that. It’s just dinner between two friends. He figured I could use a kid-free night.”

  “Who’s watching him?”

  “I figured I’d ask Lyla. She’s got a kid almost his age, they might get along.”

  “Why don’t I watch him? Then you don’t have to worry about how late you stay out.”

  “I’m not planning on staying out late,” I grumbled, knowing exactly what she was implying.

  “You’re young, honey, but you’ve only got so many years on this earth. Don’t waste them.”

  Yeah, like I haven’t heard that speech from her seventeen-thousand times.

  “You don’t mind watching him?” I asked, thinking that would be easier than trying to coordinate with Lyla.

  “Of course not! He’s my grandbaby!” I’d be suspicious of her if I didn’t know exactly what was happening. A week ago, she was giving me shit about calling her to watch Dallas. Now she was practically jumping at the chance, and I knew it was because she was hoping for sparks between Bear and me.

  Sorry, Mom. You’re barking up the wrong tree with that one.

  But I could let her be a little excited, I guess. It was better than the alternative of her being overly critical and snippy all the time.

  “That would be great, thanks,” I said, looking over at the clock. Luckily I’d gotten up with the first of my alarms, but all the free time I’d had was dwindling away.

  “Do you think you could help him get ready for school while I grab a quick shower? I was just heading upstairs to do that when you showed up.”

  I was almost hesitant to ask her, but then I immediately felt silly for it because she readily agreed.

  I didn’t know what was going on. Bear and my mom being nice to me? Had I fallen into some secret dimension? Or were things just finally starting to turn around?

  15

  Bear

  If I thought I was nervous the night before when I was going over to Lexi’s for dinner, well, that was nothing compared to the night she was supposed to be coming over to my place.

  I wasn’t sure what had come over me when I suddenly invited her over to the place I hadn’t even spent a night in yet, but the moment the words were out of my mouth, I felt like an idiot. There was no way Lexi was going to want to come over and have dinner with a grumpy asshole like me.

  But then she surprised me and said yes.

  So now I had to make this place not look like I only just moved in yesterday.

  I spent all day unpacking, trying to make it look like a home instead of a safe house for WitSec, and once I had done all I could in that arena, I put on some mood music — soft jazz — and turned my attention to preparing dinner.

  Pork chops, veggies, and rice. I marinaded the chops, seasoned the veggies and put them in the oven, and then immediately cleaned up the little mess I’d made doing those things.

  I wiped down the counters again, then broke out the broom to sweep up any errant crumbs. I had the Army to thank for the fastidious cleanliness. Lots of guys in basic liked to bitch about cleaning duties, but I never understood that. Cleaning wasn’t my favorite thing in the world, but it sure as hell beat 10-mile full-gear runs in freezing rain. Some people couldn’t wrap their minds around relativity.

  I knew she’d be showing up at any minute, so I hurried into the bathroom to give myself one more look-over. I made sure my shirt was tucked in, I didn’t miss any spots shaving, my teeth were clear, and just for good measure, I reapplied my deodorant since I’d been sweating while cleaning up and prepping dinner.

  I’d just put the deodorant back in the medicine cabinet when the doorbell rang.

  My heart leaped into my throat, my nerves all seizing up, my muscles freezing as a moment of panic hit me.

  She was here.

  Actually here.

  Don’t fuck this up, I told myself, figuring it was unlikely I’d manage to follow the order. Fucking things up was what I did best.

  I hurried over to the door, not wanting to keep her waiting, even if I was sure this night was going to be a disappointment for her. I had no idea what I was thinking I might be able to accomplish with this dinner.

  I guess I really was just wanting to thank her. I wasn’t exactly the nicest guy when I came back to town, and even though most people probably would have given up on me, Lexi didn’t. She stayed persistent and let me in even though I was being a complete ass. That deserved a show of gratitude, if you asked me.

  The door swung open with a yank on the knob, and my breath caught at the sight of her. Standing in my doorway like she w
as, the sun was at her back, giving her this glowy halo. She wore a little sundress that hugged her curves just right, her shoulders bared by the thin straps, the skirt falling just below her knee, revealing her smooth creamy legs. Her hair was pulled up into the same ponytail it almost always seemed to be in, and the only bit of makeup it looked like she’s wearing was a red lipstick that filled my head with all kinds of thoughts about what those lips could do.

  “Hi,” she said with a bashful smile that made my blood run hot.

  She was absolutely stunning from head to toe. I almost couldn’t believe she was standing there in front of me.

  “Wow,” is what I managed to return. She blushed, dipping her head down, shaking it from side to side.

  “My mom insisted I dress like this, no matter how many times I tried to tell her it’s not a date.”

  A nervous chuckle escaped my chest and it sounded so weird that I thought she was going to think I was losing it. Not a date, right. I needed to remember that. Because Lexi wasn’t interested in me. She was sweet, and trying to make sure I didn’t fall into the same trap Wyatt had, but there was nothing more there, no matter how much I kept thinking about it.

  Even if I wanted there to be something, I knew I didn’t stand a chance with Lexi. She was perfection in every way and I was a hopeless wreck without direction. She deserved so much better.

  “Come on in,” I said, clearing my throat, trying to shove away my nerves.

  Not a date, remember?

  Tell that to the soft jazz playing in the kitchen and the candle’s I’d planned to light. Those were just going to stay tucked away in a drawer for when the power went out instead. I was dumb for even buying them. It had happened on a whim, thinking about Lexi’s eyes glowing warm in candlelight, her gray eyes turning amber as we shared a glass of wine, drifting closer to each other.

  That’s what I’d imagined when I bought those candles, but it seemed ridiculous and stupid now. Like a fantasy that never had a chance of coming true.

  “Want a glass of wine?” I asked, thinking that was just being a good host. Not trying to orchestrate the fantasies I’d recently been conjuring about her. No, I’d offer any guest a drink, wouldn’t I? So why should Lexi be different?

  “I’d love one,” she said, taking a seat on the couch.

  “Sorry it’s a little Spartan… I don’t have a lot yet,” I said, when I came back with the wine glasses and saw her examining my decor — or lack thereof.

  “Thanks.” She took the wine glass and brought it to her lips. My eyes were drawn to the line of her delicate neck, the way her throat moved as she swallowed.

  God, I needed to get a hold of myself if I didn’t want to be sporting a tent in my pants all damn night.

  “Guess there wasn’t much point in it over there, huh?” she asked as I sat down on the opposite end of the couch, clasping the wine glass tight to remember my self-control.

  “Not really.”

  “I never really heard much about what it was like on base over there,” she said, looking up at me through her lashes. It seemed like she wanted me to talk about my experience in the desert, but no one really wants that. Everyone always thought they wanted to listen and be a shoulder or whatever, but once you started talking about things, about the real, gruesome things, well, no one’s ever asked for a second story, is all I was saying.

  I didn’t know what they expected. Maybe action stories full of blowing up bad guys and saving the world. But mostly, it was just being miserable, sweating all the time, and losing a different friend every other day.

  Not exactly fun dinnertime conversation.

  “Not much worth talking about,” I told her, deflecting away. “How are things at the library?” It was a lame attempt at changing the subject, but it was the first thing I thought of.

  She looked at me with scrutiny in her eyes for a moment, but then seemed to drop whatever she was going to say. “It’s actually pretty exciting right now,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “It doesn’t happen very often, but someone’s come in with a research project and we’re getting to do all kinds of deep dives into the archives.”

  “What kind of project?” I asked, loving the way her cheeks flushed when she got excited. I wondered what else I could do to make those cheeks flush like that, if it would happen if I kissed her, touched her, pulled her close to me…

  Stop it, Bear. She’s not interested.

  “Ancestry. The guy’s trying to fill in his family history, and there’s some fascinating stuff.”

  “Oh yeah?” I asked, scooting a little closer despite myself. She just had this vibrance about her. It had been dulled when I first came back to town, but it was coming back, slowly but surely, making her sparkle and shine like she should.

  “Yeah. One of the first mayors of Rockford was apparently a bootlegger during prohibition. He was able to make deliveries without anyone getting suspicious because he claimed he was just talking to his constituents, reaching out to hear about their problems. Never mentioned that most of their problems seemed to be they didn’t have enough access to booze.” She was chuckling when she finished, and drank more of her wine, the alcohol already starting to make her face warmer, her eyes a little softer.

  “Wow, who knew we had an outlaw past?”

  She snorted and shook her head. “Come on, you’re not interested in my silly stories,” she said, reaching over to shove me playfully.

  “I am too,” I argued.

  “Psssh. I bet you’ve got a thousand more exciting stories from Iraq.”

  My jaw clamped shut on its own, cold washing through my veins. I knew she didn’t mean to keep bringing it up — or maybe she did, but it wasn’t malicious — but there was nothing from that time in my life that I felt was worth talking about anymore.

  “Exciting isn’t really the word for it. More like upsetting, heartbreaking, tragic…”

  She pressed her lips together in a thin line, her mouth dropping into a frown.

  “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to…”

  I shook my head. “It’s okay, really. I get why people are curious. There’s a lot of misinformation, a lot of exaggeration and dramatization. But it’s not a feel-good story, Lex. Not for anyone. Things I had to do over there… I wouldn’t wish on anyone. The things I saw…” I shook my head again. “Some of them I’ll never forget. And there’s still times when I have to remind myself that IEDs aren’t an everyday threat here. That I don’t have to worry about little kids secretly having bomb vests strapped onto them. The more I leave all that shit over there, the more it stays there.”

  When I looked up into her eyes, they weren’t full of the judgment and horror I felt. True to Lexi, her eyes were filled with compassion and understanding. And a bit of glossiness. Her wine glass was empty by now, mine not far behind. Of course I’d just nuked the mood, so I didn’t even know if she’d want more.

  “I understand,” she said, moving a little closer to me on the couch, resting her soft hand on my arm. “I mean, obviously I don’t understand, but I get what you’re saying. But no one thinks any less of you for the things you had to do.”

  “They should,” I said without missing a beat.

  She shook her head. “Would you say the same thing about Wyatt’s service?”

  She had me there.

  “You did what you had to do. And history is full of men doing exactly that, fighting for what they think is right, even at a great sacrifice.”

  I shook my head, setting the wine glass down, dropping my head to my hands. “That’s the thing though. It’s different when you believe in the cause. But there isn’t a cause to believe in. The mess over there’s been going on for so long and there’s no end in sight. We just went over there and bulldozed their shit and it’s like we’re trying to rebuild it with legos. It’s never going to work, and we’re just going to keep losing people on both sides. The natives aren’t even the ones causing problems. They’re victims even more. Civilians caught in the line of fire.�
��

  I swallowed, choking it all back, trying not to let her see how deep it went. How much I hated myself for my role in the whole fiasco.

  The timer for dinner went off before Lexi could say anything, and that was probably for the best.

  “Hope your appetite’s ready,” I said, standing, offering her a hand up from the couch before I reached for my wine glass. “Do you want a refill?”

  “Yes, please,” she said, smiling despite what a downer I’ve been. I didn’t deserve Lexi’s understanding and compassion, but while I had it, even if it only lasted through dinner, I was going to cherish it.

  16

  Lexi

  Bear led me to the kitchen table, which he’d set with dishes he must have bought that day. They looked brand new. A lot of his stuff did, actually, but I guess I couldn’t blame him for that. He was in his twenties when he shipped out, and a lot of guys that age didn’t have much in the way of personal belongings or furniture. So when he came back, he’d pretty much had to start from scratch.

  But knowing that only made his place that much more impressive. It was spotless, completely immaculate like a showroom floor, and the smells coming from the oven were divine.

  There was still a gnawing guilt in my stomach about bringing up his time in Iraq. I’d always been able to tell that he didn’t really want to talk about it, but I’d never really understood why. Now I did, and I felt like such a jerk for pushing it.

  Of course he didn’t want to talk about some of the worst experiences of his life. Why would he? I didn’t exactly like to talk about all my past traumas and tragedies, and I didn’t think mine even began to measure up to Bear’s. Except the Wyatt thing, of course. But then we were both dealing with that, so again, I’ve got nothing on him.

  “You never told me you could cook,” I said as he brought the dishes to the table. The pork chops looked plump and juicy, perfectly caramelized. The roasted veggies were making my mouth water, and the rice was that impossibly fluffy consistency that I never seemed to be able to manage. I wasn’t ashamed to admit that I was a little jealous about the last one.