“Yeah. How did you know?”
“I’ve seen you around. How long have you known Laura?”
Jen ticked off numbers on her fingers. “Ethan is almost six, right? Almost six years. We met right after she had him.”
A shadow flickered across his face and was gone before she could truly say she’d seen it. Instead of letting it go, she chased it. “What?”
“I’ve known Trent a long time. That’s all.”
Why would that make him sad? She wondered at the man who scanned the bar, splitting his attention between her and the crush of bodies on the floor. With each question, he leaned in close to her, sending a shiver down her spine. A shiver that chased away her awkward discomfort and, for one brief moment, made her feel whole and feminine. There had been a time when she would have acted on impulse and pursued this man, but those days were long gone.
“Yeah. Going away party and all that. Are you deploying tomorrow, too?” God but she loved how he smelled.
“Yeah.” He took a long pull from his beer.
“For how long?”
He shrugged. “A year, with an option for fifteen months.” She caught a glimpse of a black tattoo around the edge of his collarbone and wondered just how much of his body was covered by the twisting dark lines of ink. Tattoos didn’t usually do it for her. She wondered at people who would permanently color their bodies. But on Shane, they worked. They worked well.
She sniffed and sipped her beer even as Shane shifted, resting one arm on the bar behind him and angling his body slightly toward her so that he could see the dance floor. Jen turned in time to see Laura dragging Trent away from the Copperhead Road line dance. They wove through the crowd, heading toward her, and Jen felt a sense of guilt creep up the back of her neck like a flush. Laura was spending too much time worrying about her—she should be focusing on her husband instead.
Trent’s face split into a wide grin when he saw Shane. “Miracles will never cease. Carponti actually got you to come out?”
“Yeah.”
“Jen, you didn’t tell me you knew Shane,” Laura said, twining her arm with Jen’s.
“I don’t. He bumped into me.”
Laura leaned close, so that the men couldn’t hear her. “Shane is one of Trent’s platoon sergeants, but they’ve been friends for years. And he’s divorc—”
“Not another word. Not one.” It didn’t matter that she’d been wondering if he was single. Her friend’s words shattered her fantasy and brought reality into sharp, silicone-shaped focus.
Laura feigned innocence with widened eyes and a wicked smile that fooled no one. “What?”
“I know where you’re going with this, and it’s not even close to possible.”
Laura shrugged, a smile painted on her lips, and danced away with Trent, leaving Jen alone at the crowded bar with brooding, sexy Shane. She sipped her beer and studied him. He was watching the crowd, his jaw flexing in the shadows.
What did it feel like to know that tomorrow he was going off to war?
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Bethany Campbell is the nationally bestselling, award-winning author of over thirty romances. A two-time winner of the Romance Writers of America’s prestigious Rita Award, she has won every major award in her field, usually more than once. She has taught Literature and Creative Writing at Eastern Illinois University. Her humorous pieces and articles have been published in magazines such as Good Housekeeping, and she has also published more than fifty poems in literary magazines. Ms. Campbell collects cartoon art, belongs to the ISHTAR fan club, and like all Arkansawers, is an avid basketball fan.
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