Back in the Soldier's Bed

by Donna Alward

  Thursday, when she checked the morning’s files, his name was there, and just seeing it sent a little thrill through her. A flutter in her tummy, a smile on her lips.

  Oh no, she cautioned herself. Remembering the past was one thing, but getting fluttery and silly after a kiss was another matter altogether.

  Kissing him had been shocking. Not because he’d done it—there was enough chemistry sizzling between them lately it seemed inevitable now that she looked at it in hindsight—but the way the brief contact had affected her had thrown her for a loop. Her fingers ran possessively over the white label on his file. She’d wanted him. She wasn’t sure she would have stopped if he hadn’t put on the brakes.

  She couldn’t help but wonder what it meant. In one breath they’d been arguing. Her words—how on earth would I know?—had precipitated it. Did it mean he hadn’t been as flippant about leaving as she’d thought? Did he have regrets of his own? Or had it just been the frustration of the moment bubbling over?

  She put the file back on the stack of morning appointments, letting her fingers linger over the brown material. His kiss was exactly the same as it had been years before. He tasted the same. The feel of his lips on hers ached with familiarity. She’d tried to dismiss all the signs. Credit the past for the long looks they’d shared or her reaction to his scorching touches. Blaming the flutters on simple nostalgia and the fact that they shared a daughter. But actually kissing him again, touching him, had been a turning point that she couldn’t ignore.

  Kissing him felt right in a way that nothing had been right since he’d gone away. With one heated kiss she started longing for things she hadn’t let herself long for since Emma had been born.

  With one kiss, it had stopped being about what had been between them in the past. And had moved firmly into the territory of what Shannyn wanted for the future.

  And what she wanted terrified her. Loving Jonas would be a risk, and she wasn’t a risk-taker. He was still in the army. He would still work where they said he worked. And she knew that he would still go, rather than choose her. She closed the appointment book firmly.

  At that same moment, the door opened and he walked through it, large and imposing in his regular work clothes. His bearing—so straight, so tall and confident—drew heads and looks of approval.

  Then his eyes met hers and she felt it clear to her core. The kiss that had been present in her memory now seemed to tingle on her lips. She could feel the way his fingers dug into her arms as he pulled her close. The warmth of his palm on her breast. The way his breath had fluttered against her cheeks as he pressed his forehead to hers.

  He paused longer than necessary, the door handle forgotten in his hand. The longing to cross the room and find his arms again was crazy, but strong. Her breath caught. It wasn’t that she hadn’t moved on after Jonas. It wasn’t that being a single mom made it hard to date, even though that’s how she’d explained it for years.

  For the first time, seeing him again, the first time since they’d kissed, she realized that what she’d done all these years was waited. She’d been waiting for him.

  And now here he was, a little older and with a lot more baggage, unwilling to let her in. And she was unwilling to ask him to.

  Jonas must have realized how they were staring because he finally let the door handle go and it took its lazy time shutting behind him. He approached the desk, his eyes only leaving Shannyn’s briefly as he gave his name to the receptionist.

  Shannyn stepped forward. “Hello, Jonas.” The words seemed strangled and forced. Yet to say more, here in public, seemed too intimate; inappropriate.

  “Shan.”

  She swallowed at the warm tone of the single syllable. Was she just imagining it? Or did he seem less aloof now than he had before?

  “I forgot about your appointment today.”

  “I didn’t.”

  He put one hand in his pocket and balanced his weight on his good hip. Had he thought about that kiss as much as she had?

  They had to stop staring at each other.

  “I told Emma about Saturday. She’s very excited.”

  His lips tipped up and her heart did a slow turn-over, simply knowing that the thought of their daughter could make him smile and his eyes light.

  “I’m excited, too. I’ve got to be on base in the morning it turns out, otherwise I could have taken you both to the static display.”

  “Don’t worry.” She dipped her head, suddenly shy. “We’re both looking forward to the afternoon.”

  His eyebrows came together a bit and she licked her lips nervously. Being pulled in opposite directions was turning out to be not so much fun.

  “Me, too,” was his simple reply. His forehead relaxed and she thought for a moment he was going to come toward her.

  She turned her head slightly at the sound of another door opening. “It looks like Geneva is ready for you now.”

  He turned towards the door leading to the treatment area.

  “Jonas?”

  He stopped, turning only his head to look at her.

  The words stuck in her throat. “Nothing, never mind,” she muttered. “I’ll see you when you’re done.”

  He was gone several minutes when curiosity got the better of her. She rarely interrupted a therapy session, but today she wanted to see—to really see—what had happened to his leg. More than an accidental glimpse of the angry scar marring the skin of his thigh. He had been so self conscious about it the other day. And she knew if she were to ask to see it, he’d find an excuse.

  She knocked on the door to the exercise room. Inside she saw Jonas on a blue mat on the floor, Geneva kneeling beside him, her touch gentle on his leg as he bent at the waist, stretching the stiff muscles.

  “Hi,” she offered quietly.

  Jonas looked up. “Shannyn.”

  He was wearing grey shorts, the line of his incision clear and imprecise. His eyes darted away from hers, the twist of his mouth communicating his consternation. She probably wasn’t playing fair. He couldn’t hide his injury from her here.

  But he needed to know she accepted him with it, so she stepped into the room and moved ahead to a bench a few feet away.

  “We’re just finishing up,” Geneva explained, smiling at Shannyn. By now the staff all pretty much knew that Jonas was Emma’s father; it was difficult to keep very much a secret in such a small group. “You want some privacy?”

  Jonas coloured while Shannyn smiled, shaking her head. “No, that’s okay. I just wanted to see how he was making out.”

  She turned her attention fully to Jonas. He lengthened out his leg, his foot nearly reaching the end of the mat. “Soooo.” She drew the word out, making him smile again. “How are you?”

  “Not bad, besides having a gimp leg,” he grumbled.

  “You’re hardly limping anymore.”

  “That’s right,” Geneva added. “Your range of motion and strength are really coming along.”

  He finished stretching out his quadriceps, and Shannyn heard the small gasp as he reached the point where he could go no further. When Geneva let him relax the pose, she got to her feet. “Good work today, Jonas. I’ll see you next week. Don’t forget to work on those stretches every day.”

  She left, leaving Jonas on the mat and Shannyn on the bench beside him.

  “Why are you here?” He folded his legs, partially covering the scar with his arm.

  “Because here it’s harder for you to hide. You reveal all to your PT but the moment I catch a glimpse of your leg, you run and cover up. I wanted to see it.”

  His lips thinned. “Why? It’s just a scar.”

  Shannyn tucked her hair behind her ears, then shook her head in disagreement. “It’s more than a scar. It’s more than a physical injury, Jonas, and you know it.”

  “But it’s my problem, not yours.”

  “What if I said I wanted to help you?”

  He’d been avoiding her gentle gaze, but now he faced her head on, frustration a dark
spark in his eyes. “I’d say you’re crazy.”

  Shannyn slid off the bench and on to her knees on the mat. Maybe she was crazy. But now they were bound by the link of their daughter. Her lingering feelings for him meant that when he was hurting, she was too. Even if she didn’t understand exactly why. His kiss said he wasn’t immune to her either.

  “We have a past, Jonas. And now we have a daughter. That ties us, don’t you see?” She looked straight into his eyes. “We may not be together anymore, but I still care what happens to you.”

  Her heart pounded as she put a cool hand on his knee. “Let me help you.”

  Verbally she’d denied their attraction, but the touch of her fingers on his skin belayed the message. With her index finger she gently traced the incision line, noticing how the skin felt different there, thrilling as the muscle beneath her finger contracted at her touch. “I want to help you.”

  “What if I don’t want you to?”

  She stopped her finger and let her palm fall. She realized that the scar was longer than the length of her hand. The fact that he could do as much as he could now was a miracle.

  “Are you saying you don’t want me to?”

  With her hand braced on his leg, her torso leaned forward, pulling them closer together. He was balanced on his palms, but when he lifted his right hand, the balance shifted, pushing him closer to her. His fingers reached behind her ear, pulling the hair taut and cupping her neck.

  “What if I wanted to kiss you and that’s all?”

  Her pounding heart shifted into overdrive. The idea was seductive even as she realized that by saying it, he was refusing to let her in for more than a kiss. Still…if kissing him could break down barriers…help her understand…

  She didn’t wait but leaned the rest of the way and touched his mouth with hers.

  He pushed further forward, taking his other hand off the mat and sliding it behind her other ear, forming a perfect cradle for her head as he opened his mouth, letting her in.

  It was sweet perfection, better than the one in his living room. That kiss had been fast, new, and fuelled by anger and frustration and surprising need. This time they were both going into it knowing what was coming, and it showed. No rushing, but a willing coming together, soft and accepting. Soon her knees ached and she leaned slightly, curling into his lap while his hands adjusted her head to the right fit.

  And still the kiss went on.

  He moaned into her mouth, the sound vibrating through her like a string that had been plucked. Her arms curled around his neck and her weight shifted.

  He stiffened, going perfectly still before letting her go and resting back on his hands again.

  His eyes closed, his mouth no longer soft with passion but tight with pain.

  “Oh Jonas, I’m so sorry,” Shannyn gasped, sliding off his lap and kneeling beside him. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “What can I do to help?”

  “You’ve done enough.”

  She recoiled as if slapped, sliding backward and sitting back up on the bench.

  Jonas pushed away and got up, less than graceful after the bump to his injury.

  “I need to get changed.”

  Sitting on the low bench, his scar was nearly at Shannyn’s eye level. She dragged her eyes away and looked up at him. “Why does it sound like you’re blaming me?”

  “Maybe I am.” He started to walk away.

  “We need to talk about this.”

  “You’re awfully fond of talking.” His words came back to her even as he kept going towards the door.

  She ignored his bitter tone. “We can’t just leave things this way, Jonas.”

  He stopped, didn’t turn around but she saw his shoulders rise and fall in a frustrated sigh. They both knew that avoiding each other wouldn’t work. They had to clear the air.

  “A cup of coffee. That’s all I have time for this morning.”

  A cup of coffee would do if that’s all he’d give. At least it would get them out of the office and somewhere neutral. So much of their time lately had been on his turf or hers.

  “Sold. I’ll meet you out in the office when you’re ready.”

  When he came out minutes later, she grabbed her purse and hustled from behind her desk. She didn’t trust him not to leave without waiting for her.

  “There’s a Timmy’s around the corner.” As they emerged on to the sidewalk, he thumbed in the general direction of the popular coffee chain.

  But there it would be too easy to get a coffee and go their separate ways, and Shannyn wanted to hold on to him a little bit longer.

  “There’s a place I know on Queen that makes great iced cappuccino.”

  He paused, looking again at the familiar coffee shop and back at her.

  “All right.”

  Jonas followed along, this once. Kissing her had been a mistake, he realized. Both times. The first time he’d been angry and frustrated and remembering all too clearly what it had been like to leave her at the end of that summer. And this morning…this morning had been madness. He knew what folly it was to kiss her again and he’d gone ahead and done it anyway. Slid his hands into that soft hair and pulled her close.

  He knew better. He should be putting more distance between them, not kissing. No matter how he felt about her, the one thing he was sure of was that this would all end badly. It would be better for everyone to stop it all right now. She knew it too, and he was angry with her for putting him in such a position. She’d initiated the contact, the kiss. And now he was going to have to put a stop to this sort of thing ever happening again.

  She stopped before a coffee shop and opened the door, her hair swinging in the breeze as she looked over her shoulder. “You coming?”

  He followed her inside and looked around. It certainly wasn’t his normal type of establishment. Trendy décor, drinks with long, nearly unpronounceable names. It looked to be a place more suited to poetry readings than a quick cup of joe.

  “Jonas? Aren’t you going to order?”

  He stepped up to the counter, looked at the woman in the plain apron and dared, “Large coffee. Black.”

  A minute later they picked up their drinks and Shannyn led them to a table in the corner.

  “This wasn’t what I had in mind when I said a quick cup of coffee.”

  She smiled at him, but it seemed frail around the edges. “I know.”

  Not knowing how to answer that, he took a sip from his cup. For all the atmosphere wasn’t his style, they did know how to brew a good cup of coffee. Shannyn dropped her eyes and sipped on her iced drink, then made circles with her straw.

  “Jonas, I wanted to talk because…because something is obviously happening between us, and we owe it to Emma to make sure there’s as little confusion as possible.”

  Her logic made sense, but he saw through it. She looked a little too earnest, too innocent. He never should have kissed her the other day. It had sent the wrong message and he’d been foolish to act so impulsively. She wanted more. He could sense it.

  “This isn’t about pinning me down to some sort of expectation, then.”

  She had the grace to look uncomfortable. She shifted in her seat and looked down at her plastic cup again.

  “Shan, I told you the other day. You want answers and I don’t have them. Kissing you was a mistake.” He folded his hands on the table before him. “Both times. Because there can’t be anything between us.”

  “But there is something between us. Emma.” Shannyn leaned forward, imploring.

  “And I want to do the right thing by her and be a good father. But you and me…it wouldn’t work. I hurt you badly when I left. And you destroyed my faith in you when you lied to me. We can’t just pretend that doesn’t exist.”

  Jonas had to look away after he said it. He wasn’t good at lying to her face. Whether or not there should be more to their relationship was irrelevant. There already was. The kisses proved it.

  She s
tudied her straw for a few moments. “I knew you were going to say that.”

  How could he make her understand without telling her more than he should? There was so much inside of him for her, and it was all so jumbled together that to even attempt anything would be like trying to untangle a ball of string. One complication would get sorted and another knot would present itself. Why would he put them all through it?

  The best way for him to protect them was to keep their image of him perfect. He knew the things he’d done, the regrets he had. There was no way he wanted to put those on Shannyn or Emma. Even if Shannyn didn’t understand it, he knew it was the right thing.

  “You have to understand, I’m not the same person I was then. I’m…I’ve seen and done a lot of things over the years. Things that mean I’ll never be the same. It wouldn’t be fair to you to bring all that to the table in addition to everything else.”

  She looked up at him, sipping her drink. He wished she’d say something so he could rid himself of the feeling that he was getting in over his head. But she stayed quiet, forcing him to keep talking to avoid empty silence.

  “And what would happen, if we took things further and then it all fell apart? Who’s the real casualty going to be then? Emma.”

  He felt momentarily guilty for that statement. Shannyn had used Emma’s presence as protection only moments before and now he was doing the same thing. The truth of the matter was that he knew he’d end up hurt. Worse, he’d hurt Shannyn again and that was the last thing he wanted. It had hurt badly enough the first time. And not just her. Him, too. “I think it would be better for everyone if we were just friends.”

  He was finished. To his mind there was nothing more to say.

  She pushed the drink aside, studied her fingers for a few seconds before looking up. She was so beautiful. Gazing into her youthful, hopeful face he felt old and world-weary. He could see what she wanted, even if she denied it to herself. She wanted the fairy tale. The happily-ever-after. And he was the last person on earth to give it to her.

  Fairy tales were just that. Tales. They didn’t exist. They were there to give false hope in a world that was darker than even she realized.

  “What about the kisses?” Her voice ached with sweetness, and he wished things were different. That he could just forget it all and love her like she wanted.