Not Another Soldier

by Holt, Samantha

  Sienna. I swear almost just saying her name in my mind makes me hard. And that was before I kissed her. I should never have been thinking of Rob’s wife that way and I always did my best to remain a gentleman, but he never treated her right. He cheated on her, ignored her, spoke to her like shit and, the sweet thing that she is, she just took it. I almost want to punish myself with another workout when I think about how much I let him get away with. You find yourself torn when it’s a fellow Marine, especially when it’s one you grew up with.

  I head for the showers and let the stinging cold water beat over me, maybe thinking of it as penance for not acting sooner. Rob and I had been friends since we were seven. We played at being soldiers. It’s all we ever talked of. But Rob changed and grew into someone I didn’t recognize. It was probably only after my accident that I realized just how bad it had gotten. Then spending time with Sienna sealed it for me. Rob didn’t deserve her and I needed her. But how could I turn on a brother? How could I break up a marriage and take Rob’s place? I was still half a fucking man with my mangled leg and if I was the one who broke things, how would I know Sienna really wanted me? I needed her to make the decision. The day she told me she was leaving him was the best day of my life. And then Rob got himself killed.

  Grimacing as I step out onto the dirty changing room floor, I towel off and change into jeans and a clean T-shirt. I spray on a little cologne and grab my gym bag before heading straight to my car.

  Today is the start of me putting things right. His death has made things easier in some ways. No messy divorce for her to deal with but a whole host of demons instead. I’m not sure Sienna ever realized quite how screwed up Rob was. Too busy looking for the best in him—or at least hoping for it. As I climb in my Jeep and chuck the bag on the back seat, I admit to myself that it’s one of the things I love about her. She was one of the few who still saw me as a man and not a cripple or a damned hero after the accident. She still saw Nick.

  It takes me longer than I’d like to navigate the city traffic. The thought of her so far away from me makes my skin itch. I park up in front of her apartment building and climb out, palms slightly sticky.

  Damn, I think I’d rather be back out in Afghanistan, facing the Taliban, than doing this. What a coward. But I need to see Sienna again. It’s been three weeks and it feels like a lifetime. I could kick myself for what I did but I can’t regret it. I mean kissing her just after she’d buried her husband was not my smartest idea, but, shit, it was an amazing kiss.

  Now I’m just dreading her reaction to me. I texted her a few times to check up on her, but her responses usually came slowly and were brief. I stare up at the building. It’s not in the best part of Glenwood which makes me nervous, but I know it’s easy for her to get to work from here. The red brick building looks in good shape and the front doors are fairly new. At least the place is secure.

  I take the steps up to the door, wincing when my leg pulls. I forget what happened to it sometimes. I can’t quite get used to taking it easy and I refuse to look weak, so I climb the next few steps quickly. My heart hammers as I reach for the buzzer and press her number. She was the one who asked for help, I remind myself. It’s not like she’s going to turn you away.

  The thing is, she doesn’t seem to realize I want more. More kisses, more Sienna. I’ve wanted her for so long, it’s ridiculous. I think she wants me too. I’ve seen the way she looks at me. She always kept it under control normally. Neither of us would have done anything while she was married. But at the funeral… God, I hate myself for thinking it, but I’m sure she wants me. Hell, if that kiss was anything to go by, she does.

  But what kind of guy kisses a crying woman after her husband’s funeral? Talk about bad timing. I should have given her some time, comforted her and waited until she was settled before making some moves.

  So that’s my plan. Be there, remind her of how good we are together—as friends—and make her realize how good we could be together as more than friends.

  Her voice comes through the speaker, slightly shaky. “Y-yes?”

  “Sienna, it’s me.”

  “Come on up.”

  The door clunks and I push it open, step through and let it swing shut behind me. I study the stairs and opt for those. She’s only two flights up, apartment number 208, and I like to use my leg as much as I can. When I get to the top, I stare at her door. She’ll be waiting for me. She knows I’m here so why aren’t I knocking? I guess I’m not sure how she’s going to be with me. Or how I’ll react to her. Honestly, it might take all my restraint not to press her back against the wall, tear off her clothes and wrap her legs around my hips.

  Great, now I’m getting hard.

  I take a few breaths and knock, secretly thanking Jess’s husband for not being able to help move her stuff in. They packed it up the other day but now he’s on maneuvers so Sienna needs me. I’m willing to bet she wouldn’t have asked if she could have helped it. Too busy trying to do things on her own as if she’s got something to prove.

  It’s cheesy but when the door swings open, I swear she takes my breath away. Sienna’s clearly dressed for moving. Worn, pale denim jeans, a light pink T-shirt and her hair up in a ponytail with silky auburn strands escaping from it. Sienna is one of those women who probably gets cast as the girl next door type unless you look closely. Cute nose, fair skin, innocent. And then she gets dressed up. Damn. That’s when it hits you. Once you’ve seen her like that, you’ll always see her beauty no matter what she’s wearing. And those eyes… when her pale blue— almost grey—eyes twinkle, you see so much hidden sexiness. I don’t think any guy can meet her and not wonder if they could be the one to draw out her naughty side.

  She smiles tentatively. Her mouth is small, slightly delicate but very kissable. As I know from experience. I allow myself a smug smirk. She steps back, hands squeezed tightly together in front of her.

  “Hi.” I greet her with a slanted grin.

  She looks somewhat taken aback by me grinning at her and her gaze lands on my lips. “Hi, thanks for coming.”

  “No worries.” I stroll past and she shuts the door behind me, pausing briefly and staring at the wood. I grin to myself. Maybe she’s sucking up her courage too. “So this is it, huh?”

  She turns as I study the living room. “Yep, all mine.”

  My smile expands when I hear the pride in her voice. “It’s nice. Could do with a paint job and a new carpet but you’ve got a good space here.” I study her. There’s a vibrancy to her that I haven’t seen in a while, in spite of her obvious anxiety. “You look happy.”

  She smiles back. “I’m getting there. I’m feeling pretty good. Getting my independence back, you know?”

  “Good.” I pause and skim my gaze over her. I’m glad she’s finding herself again but I don’t want her too independent. Yeah, that sounds like some macho bullshit, I know, but I wish she needed me just a little. I sense she thinks of herself as all needy but the truth is she’s stronger than she realizes. All army wives are. She fidgets, color in her cheeks, and I stop staring. “You gonna show me the rest of the place then?”

  “Uh, yeah, sure.” She jumps into action.

  The place is laid out pretty simply. The door opens into the living room then a sliding door separates the kitchen and dining space from it. She leads me into the kitchen and shows off the large silver fridge.

  I whistle. “Nice.”

  “I had it delivered this morning. I knew you’d approve.”

  “What? You think of food and you think of me?”

  Sienna laughs. “No! But you do like to eat.”

  I shrug, secretly glad she had been thinking of me. “Hey, I’m a big man. I need to eat.”

  I don’t mean to but I end up stroking my gaze appreciatively over her and I’m convinced she’s doing the same. It’s true, I’m a big guy. I haven’t had any complaints. I never used to be quite so fit but after going through PT on the leg… I don’t know… exercise became an addiction. A shrink w
ould tell me I’m trying to make up for what the shrapnel did to my leg. And maybe I am. I try not to think about it too hard. I’m not going to start feeling sorry for myself when three guys died in that firefight.

  When I bring my gaze back up to her face, her eyes have darkened. I recognize that look and I’m willing to bet my eyes reflect the same. It’s the one we shared before we kissed.

  Before I can make a move, she steps past and opens the door to the bedroom. “And this is my bedroom,” she declares.

  There’s nothing in it. It’s just white walls and a beige carpet but saying the word bed around us seems to be like setting fire to a fuse and letting it burn. The air feels electric and even though I’m behind her, I know she’s aware of me. I can see the tension in her shoulders, and she turns and stumbles into my chest. Hands gripping her forearms, I straighten her.

  “Well, I…” She swallows. “I guess we’d better get started.”

  I groan inwardly. Does she realize what she’s saying? ‘Cause the only thing I want to get started is us. It’s a good job there’s no bed in here as I’m pretty sure she’d have ended up on it. So much for trying to take things slow.

  “Yeah,” I finally agree, voice slightly husky, “yeah, we should.”

  I uncurl my fingers slowly and release her. I miss her already when she slides away from me. Sienna strides out of my vision while I take a moment to control my misbehaving body.

  “Come on then. Let’s get this done and I’ll treat you to dinner,” she calls out.

  I lean around the sliding doors, hands in pockets and offer her a grin that I know she finds disarming. It’s my most charming one. “Sounds like a deal.”

  ***

  Five hours later, we collapse on her brown sofa. I’m exhausted. My leg is aching slightly, not that I’d let on. Whoever designed apartments was an idiot. Trying to get the couch in was insane but we had a laugh. I peek at Sienna and am secretly pleased that after our awkward moment earlier, we seem to have found our feet again.

  She sweeps a hand through her hair and leans back. The movement thrusts out her breasts and affords me a good look at the flesh between her jeans and top. My fingers itch to touch there. But I remind myself not to push her. I never should have kissed her after the funeral. I don’t regret kissing her, but I regret the timing. I resist the urge to laugh. Could I have any worse timing? I scared her away briefly and I don’t want to ruin things again.

  But I’m not willing to let it end there either. While I plan to offer her all the support I can, she has to know I want more from her. We’ve been fighting this attraction for so long, surely she knows? I get that it’s fucking wrong to be lusting after your supposed best friend’s wife but, damn, I’m only human and I never acted upon it before.

  Until Rob’s funeral.

  Yeah I’m an idiot.

  Somehow I need to get her to see me as more than a good friend. I’m just not sure how to broach it.

  “You want to get dinner?” she asks me.

  “Urgh.” I’m not sure I can even move.

  “Hey, I thought you were meant to be the big strong man? Don’t tell me I’ve worn you out so much you can’t even be bothered to eat.”

  I roll my head around and eye her with a raised brow. “I’m plenty strong, short stuff, and don’t forget who did most of the heavy lifting. I just didn’t realize I’d have to move like a contortionist to squeeze half your furniture in here.”

  Looking around, her lips turn upward. The place looks good. Not great but good, and I can see the pride she has in it. Somehow Sienna has made the little apartment feel like hers already. With the few things she must have bought recently, vases and cushions—girly shit—it feels homey. It’s all beiges and browns at the moment but she said she plans to put some color into it. I don’t recognize much of it from her old house and I can’t help but feel glad. It’s like she’s moving on from Rob, putting him behind her. Selfishly, I want her to move on to me. But I also want her to move on from that asshole too.

  “Well, do you want to eat or not?”

  My stomach growls and we both laugh. I pat it sympathetically. “Yeah. Any chance of take-out?”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  With a groan, she stands and I enjoy the sight of her ass swaying slightly as she disappears into the kitchen.

  “Voila!” she says with a grin as she returns to the room with the menus.

  My lips tilt and she blinks at me, so cute and confused. She straightens her shoulders and chucks herself next to me. I shouldn’t but I kinda like disconcerting her. It must mean I affect her as much as she affects me, right?

  “Well, what are we having?” I ask, leaning in to peer at the menus in her hand.

  “Um… Chinese?”

  “Sounds good to me.” I snatch the menu from her and tug out my cell. “What are you having?”

  “Kung pao chicken and fried rice, please.” She folds her arms in irritation but I know she’s not really angry. Sienna likes to play all independent but she enjoys being taken care of too. It’s just trying to strike the balance I find hard. Most of me wants to wrap her up and do everything for her.

  The guy at the end of the phone has to ask me three times what I want before I remember I supposed to be ordering dinner and not eyeing up Sienna.

  ***

  Sienna

  I feel his gaze on me as he phones in our order. I try not to gulp but I’m all hot. Once he’s ordered the food, he flashes me a grin and tucks away his cell in his front pocket, drawing my attention to the crotch of his jeans.

  Great, now I’m studying the worn lines of the denim again. I’ve been doing that all day. He’s wearing a red T-shirt with some numbers on, like a sports shirt, and it’s molded perfectly to his body. The tribal tattoo on his right arm begs me to trace it up under the sleeve of his shirt. I suck in a breath through my nostrils.

  It’s been nice to have him here though. I’ve missed him. That… that kiss shocked me. Scared me. Giving into the chemistry zinging between us hadn’t been a good idea and I didn’t know how to react, but I’m glad to have him back in my life. Three weeks without him was too long. I just hope we can put the kiss behind us and continue our friendship. I don’t have many friends at the moment. Maybe that will change now I’m living in the city, but for now the only person I have is Nick. I’m sure he enjoys my company so I don’t think I’m being too selfish in wanting him around.

  I glance around at my living room, looking for a distraction. We’ve done a good job and it already feels like home. It’s not the best place in the world and it could do with some paint and new curtains but I feel like the purple vases and candles I picked out the other day have made it ‘mine.’ I’m secretly kind of proud of them, as if they’re a mark of my new independence. Rob used to control everything. I cleaned the house but he bought everything, made it look exactly how he wanted it. I realize now he even did the same with me. Chose my clothes and got annoyed if I didn’t look how he wanted me too. It was bizarre really. For a man who didn’t want his wife anymore, he really cared how I appeared. But then, to Rob, appearance was everything. The best clothes, the best furnishings. Everything had to be perfect and if it wasn’t... well, he only struck out the once, but his temper was scary enough. His icy cold looks and moody ways were enough to stop me from causing a fuss. It’s weird how sometimes you don’t even recognize how bad things were until you’re out of the situation.

  “Oh.” I jump up when my gaze settles on the box in the corner, and I remember what I meant to ask Nick. “I have a box of… of Rob’s stuff. Some old Marine things. Is there anything you want? I don’t really know what to do with it,” I admit.

  He shrugs. “I guess I could take a look. Don’t you want to keep any of it?”

  I stroll over to the box that I’d abandoned next to the TV and kneel to peel it open. “I don’t know to be honest. I feel bad. I don’t even have anyone to send the stuff to. I don’t suppose his foster family would want any of it.”<
br />
  “No,” he agrees. “I don’t suppose so.”

  They hadn’t even attended the funeral. The last family he’d been with had been glad to be rid of the ‘trouble maker’, I think.

  My heart pangs as I spot our wedding album. I gingerly pull it out and chew my lip as I run my fingers over the lace covering.

  Nick leans forward, elbows on his knees. “You going to keep that?”

  “I don’t know.” I flip it open and trace one of the black and white photos.

  We’re cutting the cake and I look… happy. Was I though? I remember being swept away by him. He was so outrageous, so fun, so charming. I never even questioned it when he asked me to marry him. Rob looks happy too. So what went so wrong?

  “Sometimes,” I say, voice catching slightly, “I wonder if I was ever happy. I keep searching for a moment where I was but I think it just went straight downhill after we married.”

  He leans forward and takes the album from my unresisting hands. As he studies the pictures, a soft smile comes across his face. “You were stunning that day. I think Rob was pretty excited to be marrying you.”

  “You think?” I come to my feet and sit back next to him.

  “Yeah. You were the girl everyone wanted. He was stoked to have snagged you.”

  “Ah.” Well that explained a lot. Rob always wanted what others lusted after whether it was a car or a job or a… wife. “I guess he lost interest once he caught me.”

  Nick flicks his gaze back over the album and closes it gently. “I know he was my best friend, but I can’t defend how he treated you.”

  My breath sticks in my throat and I glance around for an escape. How did we get so deep so quick? I don’t want to be talking about this. I just want to put everything to do with Rob behind me and move on. It’s one of Nick’s only flaws really—that he was Rob’s friend. It makes it harder for me to forget.

  “What about you anyway?” I ask desperately. “You planning on doing anything like that any time soon.” I nudge him as I motion toward the wedding album. “You’re not getting any younger.”