by Syndi Powell
* * *
BECKETT LEFT THE banquet hall and took a wrong turn, winding up on a balcony that overlooked the street. He’d been enjoying the dance before he’d heard the crash, assumed that danger was near and crushed Andie to him. He’d been having fun, and his PTSD had taken that away from him. Was it always going to be this way? One day. He wanted just one day where he could be normal.
He pounded his fist on the balcony railing then returned to enter the hall. The doors to the parking lot weren’t much farther, and he marched out of the wedding reception, heading for his truck. Within a few feet of its safety, he heard his name being called. He didn’t have to turn around to know who it was.
He heard her footsteps and said to her, “It’s cold out here, Andie. You should go back inside.”
“I will when you do.”
She’d freeze in minutes if she stayed outside with those bare arms. Sighing, he removed his suit coat and draped it over her shoulders. “Why did you follow me?”
“I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“Here’s the thing. I’m never going to be okay. That’s why you should stay away from me, Andie. I can’t be fixed like some window that needs new glass. My scars won’t heal.”
He started to leave, but she grabbed his arm. “I don’t accept that. Russ suffered from PTSD, and he’s doing fine. Other soldiers do too.”
“And some die.”
“You’re stronger than that.”
“And what if I’m not? My best friend took his life because he wasn’t as strong as he thought. He left a wife and two kids, Andie. I won’t do that to my family.”
She took a step away from him. “Have you thought of harming yourself?”
“There’s no simple answer to that question.”
“Sure there is. Yes or no?”
He took a long look at her and shook his head. “You don’t want to be mixed up with me.”
“Yes, I do. I’m falling for you, Beckett. And that means I want every part of you, scars and all.”
Her words thrilled his heart as much as they filled his mind with dread. Standing before him was a woman whom he would one day hurt, and she deserved so much more than that.
Andie reached up, resting her hand against his cheek.
Heat from her hand seemed to radiate to his spine and down his back. He needed to let her go. Needed to walk away. “Andie—”
She put a finger on his lips. “Let me talk. I know all the reasons why you don’t do relationships. But I also know the kind of man you are and that you have feelings for me too, even if you’re not willing to admit it.”
“No.”
She nodded. “Yes, you do. And those feelings terrify you which is why you’re rushing to leave me. I get it. I really do. But I’m strong enough to handle you and your scars.”
He wasn’t strong enough, so how could she be? “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“Then let me show you what I feel.”
She pressed her lips to his, and he hesitated. He couldn’t let this continue.
And yet as he grasped her by her upper arms to push her away, his lips betrayed him and deepened the kiss. He could feel her thread her fingers in his hair, and he wanted the moment to go on and on.
When he eventually broke the kiss and took a step back, he kept his hold on her. They were both breathing heavily, staring into each other’s eyes. He knew he should let her go. Give in to his fear and walk away. But she took a step toward him and rested her head against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. “I don’t know what to do with you.”
“How about letting me in just a little?” She brought her head back to look into his eyes again. “Why don’t we take it slow? Just one day at a time?”
He stared at her, gave a slight nod and brought her in for another toe-curling kiss that they would both dream of for weeks.
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE PATTERN OF the window lay before them on the worktable, pieces of cut glass positioned on the brown sheet. Andie sighed as she counted the number of empty spaces. Beckett had a good eye and steady hand when it came to cutting glass. If he kept this pace, they’d finish the window in no time. Despite his kisses at the wedding, she knew he’d still find a reason to quit their friendship.
She’d seen how uncomfortable her words had made him. The more tense he was, the farther he retreated from her. And that was the last thing she wanted.
“Andie, did you hear what I said?”
She blinked several times at Beckett. “Sorry. I wasn’t paying attention. What do you need?”
“I asked you if you thought the wave pattern on the glass for the water should be left to right or top to bottom.” He pointed to the piece of glass in front of him.
She gave the glass a glance. “Left to right. Waves go parallel to the shoreline, not perpendicular.”
Beckett nodded and returned his focus to the pattern and glass cutter. Andie rubbed her forehead, then turned to Russ. “I’m getting a headache. Could I get some aspirin?”
“Sure. Go upstairs and ask Pattie. She’d be more than happy to give you some.”
Andie left the two men and walked upstairs to find Pattie sitting in the living room with a ball of yarn and crochet hook. The older woman looked up and smiled at her as she entered the room. “Did you need something, dear?”
“Aspirin. Please.”
Pattie set aside her crochet project and rose to her feet. She motioned for Andie to follow her down the hall to the bathroom where she opened a medicine cabinet and tapped two tablets into Andie’s hand. She poured water into a tiny paper cup and handed that to her, as well. “I’m sorry you’re not feeling well.”
Andie took the medicine and crushed the cup before tossing it into the wastebasket. “Tension headache, I think.”
Pattie glanced at her cast. “And I’m sure your injury isn’t helping any.”
Andie followed Pattie, who returned to the living room. She thought about going back down to the basement, but she couldn’t help the window with this cast. And she needed some distance from Beckett to sort out her feelings.
Pattie motioned to the love seat next to her recliner. “You’re welcome to sit and visit with me if you’d rather not return to the basement just yet.”
Andie took a seat and looked at Pattie’s crocheting. “What are you working on?”
Pattie laid the project out on her lap. “It’s going to be a baby blanket once I finish. I knit about five or six over the long winter months, then donate them to a nearby shelter.”
“You do beautiful work.”
Pattie waved off her compliment. “I like to keep my hands busy, and now that I’m retired I have more time to devote to it.”
“My grandmother tried to teach me once when I was about seven, but I got more knots than actual stitches in the yarn.” Andie reached over and fingered the soft pastel yarn. “I envy those who can do this.”
“Once you get your cast off, I can show you some basic crochet stitches.”
“I might take you up on that.”
Pattie smiled and returned to working with the yarn. Andie watched her for a moment, then asked, “How did you and Russ deal with his PTSD when he came home from war?”
“Ah, I wondered when you would ask me.” She kept her focus on the crochet hook and yarn, but Andie knew that her mind had traveled back to that time in their lives. “I can only tell you my side of things, but it wasn’t easy on either of us.” Her fingers stilled for a second, and she swallowed hard before continuing. “He drank to forget in those days, and he had a lot of forgetting to do.” She looked up at Andie with moist eyes. “I told him it was either the alcohol or me.”
“And he chose you?”
Pattie shook her head and continued working the yarn. “Not at first. I left him and move
d in with my mother. I figured Russ was going to drink himself to death, and I was afraid to watch him do it.”
This didn’t sound like the relationship she’d seen between Russ and Pattie. “You gave up on him?”
“He gave up on us, and I had a son to care for. I know it’s probably hard for you to understand, but he had to decide to get better for himself. I couldn’t nag him to do it. I couldn’t plead or beg. They were just words.”
“What made him change?”
Pattie set her crocheting aside. “He had to hit bottom. Homeless, jobless and alone. But he came back once he was sober. And he’s been working so hard to make up for those lost years.”
“Years?” Andie paled. Could she devote years of hoping to reach Beckett only to be turned away time and again? She’d done that with Brian, and she’d still ended up alone.
Pattie nodded. “When a soldier returns home from a war, it takes a long time to find peace. Russ did it. And I’m sure Beckett will too.”
“I hope he does.”
Pattie reached over and touched her hand. “You love him. I can see it in what you do and hear it in what you say. Russ has commented that you could be good for Beckett, but I want to give you a word of warning.” She paused and looked square into Andie’s eyes. “It won’t be easy. There will be days you’ll question why you’re risking your heart. You’ll wonder if it’s worth the pain and anger, if you wouldn’t be happier with someone else who doesn’t come with these worries.”
If the woman was trying to scare her off a relationship with Beckett, it certainly seemed to be effective. Could she be strong enough to love him, scars and all? Would she have the staying power when things got difficult?
And yet, the thought of turning her back on Beckett didn’t seem possible. A future without him seemed bleak. He challenged her like no man had. And despite his protests, she knew that he could love her in the way she needed.
Pattie picked up her crochet hook and yarn and resumed her task. “If you love Beckett like I love my Russ, then it will be worth the struggle.”
* * *
THE WEEKS PASSED in a blur of fixing up the house during the day and spending most evenings in the Thorpes’ basement working on the stained glass window. Between Russ and himself, they had most of the pieces of glass cut. However, he and Andie still hadn’t found the right amber glass for the light shining from the lighthouse. Russ had suggested some websites that might have the inventory they needed. Andie volunteered to track it down since she couldn’t help cutting glass with her cast.
Despite being unable to help per se, Andie showed up most nights. She’d sit in a recliner with a cup of tea in her good hand, and Phoebe at her feet. The dog seemed to have bonded with her, and often rewarded her presence with doggy kisses that Andie protested about even as she giggled and smiled.
Beckett found himself looking forward to those evenings. The friendships that had blossomed between them all brought a level of comfort he hadn’t experienced since before Iraq. Restoring the window was important, of course, but the conversation and homemade desserts brought a sense of peace. The nightmares had become fewer. Panic attacks rare. Beckett felt so much better.
He had even found himself drawing emotionally closer to Andie. Since the wedding, she didn’t push him for more than friendship and respected his need for space. He’d be cutting a piece of glass and look up to find her watching him. And he discovered he liked that.
Liked it so much that he had stopped her from following Russ upstairs when they had finished for the night. She frowned at him when he grabbed her hand. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” He looked into her eyes and brought his hands up to frame her face before lowering his mouth to cover hers. She returned his kiss with a fire that both pleased and surprised him.
He tore his mouth from hers. “A friend of mine is opening a restaurant next Saturday night. Come with me.”
She nodded then rose on her toes to give him one more kiss that seemed to brand him with her name.
“Did you two get lost down there?” Russ called from upstairs.
Beckett let Andie go reluctantly. “I guess we should join them.”
She stared briefly into his eyes before starting to walk past him up the stairs. He followed her to the kitchen where Pattie had set out that night’s treat, a large bowl of fruit salad. Russ raised an eyebrow at this. “Really? Fruit?”
“Your doctor said you needed to watch your weight.” Pattie set a small bowl of the fruit salad in front of him. “That means I’m changing what I feed you. And it starts with fruit. Watch it or I could get out the cottage cheese.”
Russ scowled, but ate a strawberry.
Andie played with a blueberry. “I showed the pictures that I took of the window to one of my old professors. He said that something about it reminded him of another window he had seen before.”
Beckett was intrgued. “Did he have an idea of who the artist was?”
“No, unfortunately. But he was going to do some digging and let me know if he discovered anything.” She sighed and pushed her hair back away from her face. “I don’t know why the identity of the artist is so important to me. Maybe because the creation of something that beautiful should be given proper credit. I’ll keep looking if I have to.”
“And if we never find out?” Russ asked.
“I’ll widen my net.” Andie speared a piece of pineapple. “There’s something about the window that I feel I should recognize. Probably something I studied before. Like my professor, I just can’t put my finger on it.”
Beckett reached out and grabbed her free hand. “If anyone can figure it out, it will be you.”
She returned his smile, and Beckett didn’t miss the look exchanged by the Thorpes.
* * *
BECKETT WALKED ANDIE to her car as he did every evening after working on the window, but this evening she didn’t want their time to end. Risking rejection, she glanced behind her. “What do you say to going and getting that drink now?”
“Drink?” Beckett at first looked cornered, but then his face relaxed. “Okay. But nowhere too crowded.”
“I understand.”
They met at a nearby twenty-four-hour diner, Lolly’s. It wouldn’t have been her first choice, but knowing Beckett’s nervousness about crowds led her to choose this place. At ten in the evening, the diner tended to be quiet and almost empty.
The waitress seated them at a table near the back, and predictably Beckett took the spot that would enable him to keep his eyes on the front door. Andie supposed that his military training kicked in whether he wanted it to or not. Phoebe took her place under the table at Beckett’s feet.
Andie accepted a menu from the waitress, but she didn’t need one. Neither did Beckett it seemed since he placed his on top of hers and stared at her across the table. “This isn’t quite the place I imagined when you asked me out for a drink that first night.”
“I didn’t ask you on a date that night. Not like you’re thinking.” She grinned and rearranged the cutlery in front of her. “I only wanted to get to know you better.”
“Isn’t that what dating is?”
Her answer was interrupted by the waitress who took their orders: a hot tea for Andie and a decaf coffee for Beckett. Plus, a piece of cherry pie with two forks.
Beckett gave a shrug to Andie after he ordered the pie and the waitress left to get their beverages. “No offense to Pattie, but I much prefer her other desserts to the fruit salad tonight.”
“I think it’s sweet how she looks after Russ.”
“I’d say they look after each other.”
Beckett kept his gaze on Andie, and she felt a flush rise up her chest. Now that their attraction for each other was out in the open, she felt as if she’d regressed to being an awkward teenager. She floundered to find a topic that didn’t include the window or the Thorpe
s. Phoebe’s head rested on Andie’s knee, and she leaned down to scratch behind the dog’s ears. “Phoebe seems to have settled in well with you.”
“And me with her. Who knew that I’d take so quickly to a dog?”
“You didn’t have dogs growing up?” In her mind, she could see a younger Beckett going off on adventures with his faithful pet.
He shook his head, then thanked the waitress as she set their drinks in front of them. “My dad was allergic to animals, so pets weren’t a part of my childhood. I feel like I’m making up for it now with Phoebe.”
“What does your dad say now?”
Beckett glanced away, and she regretted her question. When he turned back to her, his face had no emotion. “He died before my first tour in Iraq. My mom died when I was a teenager.”
“I’m so sorry.”
He paused for a long while. “It’s been years since I’ve talked about family.”
She couldn’t imagine living her life without her mother and sister. “Do you have any family left?”
“A brother. Simon.”
Before she could ask any more about it, he spoke in a tone that seemed too bright. “How is Cassie doing? Enjoying married life?”
In truth, she hadn’t had much contact beyond a few texts and photos from her sister since the happy couple had left on their honeymoon. “I’m sure I’ll hear all about it when they return next week from Venice.”
Beckett raised an eyebrow. “Italian honeymoon? Nice.”
“A wedding gift from the Buttucci brothers. They have family that’s still there.”
Once the waitress set the slice of pie between them, they ate and talked about other details of their daily lives. The house he was renovating. The doctor she worked for. The television show they’d last binge-watched. The small minutiae that normal people on dates might share.
And in that moment, it did feel normal. As if she might have a chance to pursue something with Beckett. And she really wanted to. Could think of little else as he paid for their dessert and walked her to her car in the parking lot. They stood silently facing each other before he made the first move.
