Not A Hero: A Bad Boy Marine Romance

by Sarah Robinson

  “Not exactly in the talking mood, guy.”

  “Well, how about you be in the listening mood then,” the man persisted. “I’ve never been in this podunk town before, you know that?”

  Miles gritted his teeth before taking another swig of his beer. Yeah, definitely not a good sign. Slipwick was small, but it certainly wasn’t podunk—whatever that meant. “You don’t say.”

  “Yep, never.” The man swirled around on his stool to face Miles, but Miles didn’t look at him. “I’m actually here for my best friend’s funeral tomorrow.”

  That got his attention. Brow furrowed, Miles shot a glance at the stranger. “Walter Kydd?”

  “Yeah, you know him?” The man slapped him on the back and Miles coughed, surprised, and now even more annoyed. “Walter used to be my best friend in the whole fucking world back in the service—still was, even though I hadn’t talked to him in forever.”

  Miles’s lifted one brow, trying to figure out how the fuck this man thought he was best friends with his dad, yet his father had never mentioned a best friend from his days as a Marine.

  “I’ve heard of him,” Miles said, not feeling like divulging much more. He was still a little unsure of who the fuck this guy thought he was.

  “Good guy, that Walter. Good fucking guy.” The stranger chugged the rest of his beer, belching loudly. “Much better guy than me—that’s for damn sure.”

  Miles didn’t doubt that.

  “We were in the war together…’Nam, man.” The stranger shook his head. “Fucks you up. Fucked me up, at least. But not Walter. No, not good ol’ boy, Walter.”

  Miles frowned, something in the man’s tone irking him. “What are you talking about?”

  “He was always better than me at handling it all, you know?” The stranger belched again. “We were in the same unit, saw the same shit, did the same fucked up crap, too—no choice, gotta survive, you know? But it ate me up inside, and I think it did for Walter at first too, but he figured out how to move on. He didn’t hold on to it forever, you know? He didn’t…I don’t know, punish himself for it? You know what I’m talking about, man? You look like a Marine—tell me you know what I’m talking about.”

  Miles swallowed, trying to figure out why he was letting this man get under his skin. His emotions were raw—first, his father’s death, then the break-up, or whatever the thing with Zoe could be called…now meeting this man—Miles was splayed open and easy pickings. “Yeah, I know what you’re talking about.”

  “Ooh rah,” the man chanted. “Ooh fucking rah.”

  They were both silent for a while, the only noise the crunching of pretzels as Miles slowly finished his beer.

  “I’ll tell you what, though,” the man continued. “I think it was the girl.”

  Miles lifted one brow. “What girl?”

  “Violet,” the man said, unknowingly referencing Miles’s mother. “He carried a picture of her all through the war man, right under his helmet. Looked at it all the goddamn time like she was his reason for living.”

  “They got married,” Miles admitted. “They were very in love. Had a son, but she died during childbirth. He never remarried.”

  “No shit?” The man’s mouth had fallen open as he shook his head in dismay. “You know what, though? I’m not surprised he didn’t.”

  “Why?” Miles had always wondered why his father hadn’t sought solace in another woman, or started dating at any point over the last twenty-six years. It seemed like a lonely existence, even though Walter had sworn he was perfectly fine on his own.

  “He once told me he knew he loved her because she made him feel more like himself than he ever felt by himself. Whatever the hell that meant. I told him he was nuts, and they’re too many good pussies out there to tie yourself to one, but…” The man sighed. “Maybe ol’ Walter knew what he was talking about.”

  “Maybe he did,” Miles agreed, trying to overlook this man’s crude language and instead focus on what his father had said.

  “Walter’s a better man than me, that’s for damn sure.” The stranger chuckled this time. “In life, in dealing with his shit, in love…just a better goddamn man.”

  “I’ll toast to that.” Miles held up his glass, because hell yeah, his father was a better man than most anyone he’d ever known—including himself.

  “Fuck, yes,” the stranger agreed, clinking his glass against Miles’s. “To Walter, man.”

  “To Walter,” Miles agreed.

  Miles had barely had to do anything in preparation for the funeral. Apparently Walter had prepared everything ahead of time with Zoe’s help for when this day would eventually come. A few phone calls here and there, and everything was ready.

  If only he could say the same for himself.

  The chapel in the center of town was packed so full, there were people sitting on the steps out front just wanting to be a part of the day. Miles kept his face forward, staring at the minister as he spoke over the casket that was mostly there for show, since his father had been cremated. The small box actually containing his ashes would be interred privately after the service, in a cemetery on the outskirts of town.

  Zoe was sitting a few rows backs and across the aisle—hell, she looked gorgeous, even with splotchy, red cheeks and a tissue pushed to her nose every few minutes. Their eyes met for a brief moment, and she offered him a small smile that conveyed more sadness than hope.

  He was overwhelmed by how badly he wished she was sitting next to him right now, her hand in his. No other reason other than to help him breathe…keep breathing…keep going…keep moving.

  She was everything to him, and being apart from her the last few days was more than enough time for him to realize his mistake. He’d already heard the lecture from Tobin, and a stranger at a bar, and the dozens of people who came up to him the last few days asking how he was doing, and if he had anyone taking care of him.

  All he kept thinking was he wanted Zoe to be that person for him.

  Ironically, she still was, even when she wasn’t. Everything about the funeral and burial had been aided by her, and she was still helping, even when he’d very literally kicked her out. She had taken her things, sure, but she’d never actually left.

  He hoped she never would.

  “Walter’s son, Miles Kydd, is going to say a few words now,” the minister nodded toward him as he concluded a prayer.

  Miles stood, re-buttoning his suit jacket and straightening it out as he headed to the podium at the front of the chapel. The thoughts of Zoe took a back seat as he focused on what today was really about. His heart ached for the man he’d loved all his life, and still would for the rest of his. Grief was a funny thing—full of painful sorrow at the loss, but nostalgic happiness at the memories he’d hold on to forever. There was certainly no forgetting his father, and as he climbed to the top of the chapel and turned to look at the audience, he realized how significant his father’s life had truly been.

  The entire town of Slipwick and more stared back at Miles.

  He barely recognized everyone, and yet, so many people had been touched and impacted by his father’s life.

  Nerves swelled and crashed in his stomach, but he turned sideways to look at the large pictures of his father poised to the side of the casket. There were two—one was young and in his uniform, the other was a few years back on one of Miles’s visits home when they were fishing and his father was holding a large bass with a huge grin on his face.

  The happiness in the lines around his eyes, the wrinkles around his mouth…he’d loved so deeply in his time here. That was what had mattered, and that was what Miles wanted to emulate.

  “My father’s entire life was built by love,” Miles began, still staring at his father’s picture even though he was talking to the audience. “The love from this town—the friends he made here, the family he built around him. The torch he still held for my mother twenty-six years after she passed away; he was unwaveringly in love with her his entire life and said her love
kept him alive when he was in the military. The affection he had for his son, and how he made sure I never went a day without knowing I was loved and wanted and always would be—”

  Miles swallowed hard at the memory, trying to hold himself together to get through the rest of his speech.

  “That’s what my mother told him to tell me before she died. She never wanted me to feel it was my fault—that giving me life, took hers. She told him to tell me every day I’m loved, I’m wanted, I always was, and I always will be. He never forgot once.”

  Quiet sobs and sniffling came from every direction in the chapel, and the lump in his throat threatened to keep him from continuing.

  Taking a deep breath, he pushed on. “That’s what I’ve learned from Walter Kydd. That’s how I want to hold on to his memory. Love saved his life, but love also brought him to life. Love was everything to Walter, and he’d want it to be everything to all of us.”

  With those final words, he stepped down and back to his spot in the front pew before the crowd could see the tears streaming down his face. The minister returned to the podium and invited more to come and talk about Walter, and dozens did. Zoe did, and he loved her all the more for the sweet speech she gave.

  Everyone laughed, everyone cried, and everyone loved.

  Rest in peace, Walter.

  29

  “It was a beautiful service,” Mollie told her as Zoe pulled the sofa bed out of Mollie’s couch and began setting it with fresh sheets. She’d been staying with her friend ever since leaving Miles’s house, and honestly, it hadn’t been half bad.

  Sure, Mollie’s two sons woke her every morning with shrieking and toy cars, but she didn’t mind. She’d tried staying the first night with her parents, but had only made it a few hours before giving up. Her parents meant well, at least she felt they did, but the air in their house was heavy and oppressive.

  It didn’t fit with who Zoe was anymore, and she’d been on her own a while now. She was a different person than her parents had envisioned she’d be, and she was okay with that.

  “Gorgeous service,” Zoe agreed, tossing pillows to the top of the bed. “The internment afterwards was pretty special, too.”

  Mollie’s brows lifted as she leaned against one side of the large archway leading into their living room. “You went to that? I thought it was private, for family only?”

  “Miles asked me to go.”

  “Wow,” Mollie said, her tone implying a lot unsaid. “How’s it going with him, by the way? I mean, you’re not staying there anymore.”

  “Of course I’m not staying there anymore. It’s no longer my job,” Zoe replied.

  “Was it ever really your job?” Mollie countered. “I mean, sure, at the beginning, but then it became your house…your family. I know Walter certainly thought of you that way.”

  Zoe didn’t look at her friend, not wanting to admit how much she missed four walls and a roof, because it had been so much more than that. Mollie was completely right though. There was a sense of belonging in that home and to those people, she wasn’t sure she’d find anywhere else.

  Because, of course, it had nothing to do with the house, and everything to do with the people in it.

  “Well, I’m not trying to pry,” Mollie continued after Zoe didn’t answer. “And you know you’re welcome here as long as you want.”

  “Thanks, Mollie,” Zoe said, sitting down on the bed and smiling back at her friend. “Oh, and thank Mark for me. I got the interview on Monday for the school nurse job thanks to him putting in a good word for me.”

  “He’s good for something sometimes,” Mollie said with a grin. “I’ll tell him you got the job.”

  Zoe laughed. “I didn’t get it yet, it’s just an interview!”

  “They’d be idiots not to hire you,” Mollie said with a shrug as she headed down the hallway toward her own room. “Congrats on the new job!”

  Zoe tucked herself into the sofa bed with a small chuckle, loving how supportive and kind her friends were. She pulled the covers to her chin, staring at the stucco white ceiling as she thought of everything that had transpired the last three days.

  It had been a whirlwind, that was certain.

  But it had also closed a chapter in her life she’d been prepared for, and in a way, had spent the last year grieving in advance for. Walter had definitely become the father she wished she’d had growing up, and she was deeply sad about his passing. However, she had known it was coming, had had numerous talks with Walter about it, and helped him in making sure all his affairs were in order and everything he’d wanted would be honored.

  She’d felt as if something was a little off the morning of his death—a sense of finality in the air—but she hadn’t paid it much attention at the time. Looking back, she guessed Walter must have sensed it too, and that was why he’d insisted on spending his last morning with Miles, and with her.

  His last wish had clearly been for her and Miles to be together, and so when Miles had finally seemed to turn a corner, she’d been over the moon at both being able to give Walter what he’d been hinting at for months, as well as what she knew she wanted, too.

  That clearly hadn’t worked, and she wasn’t completely shocked due to their tumultuous back and forth in the past.

  She also wasn’t angry—which probably was the one thing that surprised her about all of this. She’d grown up in a normal house, but it was dull and empty. She’d been an only child to parents who didn’t know how to express love, and she’d fallen for the first guy she’d met who showed her the slightest hint of the affection she’d always wanted.

  Of course, she’d missed all the red flags, and their marriage was definitely short lived, but she’d learned more about herself from one hellish year with him than she’d ever learned before. Seeing Rusty behind bars had closed that chapter in her life. She’d sought the help she’d needed, she had healed in the places that were broken, and she’d gained back the ability to trust and love again.

  Walter had taught her that. Miles had shown her that.

  But Miles wasn’t there yet. He was only barely starting to heal his own broken parts, and as badly as she wanted to be there with him to support him through it, he obviously wanted to go it alone.

  There was nothing left she could do, but leave.

  Sighing, Zoe pushed off the covers of her and climbed out of the sofa bed. She was restless and anxious, and Mikey was screaming in one of the bedrooms upstairs. Normally on nights when she couldn’t sleep, she’d go for a swim in the lake. Something about the cool water under the moonlight—all alone in the middle of nowhere. It was the very definition of serene, and now it was lost to her forever.

  Zoe frowned as she walked into the kitchen, filling a glass of water for herself and taking a sip. Why shouldn’t she go back to the lake?

  Miles didn’t own the lake. He owned the dock, at most.

  Plus, he probably wasn’t even home right now since she’d heard he’d spent the last few nights at the tavern. That frustrated her for sure, but she wasn’t foolish enough to think everyone who drank was like Rusty.

  She’d seen Miles drunk, and there wasn’t an aggressive bone in his body. Sober, however, was a different matter.

  It was a really big lake. She could skirt around the house and go farther down the shore. Placing her glass in the sink, Zoe made up her mind. She wasn’t going to walk on eggshells around Miles, or avoid the things and places she’d once loved because he was connected to them somehow. Hell, that would mean she’d have to move out of Slipwick all together.

  She was grieving too, and she was hurting over their split, despite her best attempts to not let it get to her. The lake had become her home, and damn it, she was going to swim in it.

  Midnight, be damned.

  30

  Miles pulled the Camaro off the main street into town and onto the wooded dirt road leading back to his house. About half a mile down, it branched in two directions—one was a straight shot to his house and the lake.
The other was to the lake, but wound around a bit and let out a little way away from where his house was.

  Turning away from his house, he chose the second path and sure enough, when he got to the end, there was her car. Her friend, Mollie, had been pissed as hell when he’d rung her doorbell at midnight, wanting to see Zoe. He’d forgotten Mollie had two kids, and apparently, she’d just gotten the youngest back to sleep before the bell went off and ruined it all.

  He’d apologized a million times, and then they’d both freaked out when they realized Zoe was nowhere in the house, despite Mollie being sure she’d been asleep in the living room moments before. When they also discovered her car was also missing, Miles had an inkling where she was.

  Pulling his car along the side of hers, he parked and shut it off, taking his phone out and letting Mollie know he’d found her. After living with Zoe for several months, he’d learned she always went out on the water when she couldn’t sleep. He certainly couldn’t sleep tonight either, which was part of the reason he’d ended up at her door at midnight.

  He climbed out of the car and headed toward the small path to the embankment on the lake’s edge. As he’d guessed, she was crouched down on a flat rock that jutted out from the shore, her knees to her chest, as she trailed her fingers across the water’s surface.

  He walked over to her, hands in his pockets, and took a deep breath. “Zoe?”

  “Ack!” she shrieked, jolting and losing her balance, as she jumped and flailed her arms in an attempt to not fall forward into the water.

  Miles rushed forward and grabbed her outstretched hand, yanking her off the stone and against his chest. “Jeez, are you okay?”

  She pushed away from him, moving closer to the shore before spinning around and smacking his chest lightly. “You scared the crap out of me! Don’t sneak up on people in the middle of the night!”

  He grinned. Her face when she was angry…hell, he could admit it turned him on. Narrowed eyes, reddened cheeks, she looked downright fierce, and he loved it. “I’m sorry. I thought you could hear my footsteps.”