For Love and Honor

by Cathy Maxwell

  Why was he still here when his friends were not?

  He glanced around the diner at the wood-paneled walls and the Don’t-Mess-with-Texas decor. As wonderful as the greetings had been, there was one welcome he’d looked forward to the most. Even though he wouldn’t enjoy giving her the news he had to share.

  Back in the kitchen a good-natured argument surfaced.

  “Pick up your own danged pickles, Bud. I’ve got my hands full of Arlene’s sweet potato fries, a buffalo burger, and Walter’s patty melt.”

  “But the pickles are burnin’ in the fryer, girl.”

  A feminine sigh of exasperation lifted above the lunchtime chatter and forks clanging on plates. At the sound, the tightness in Aiden’s chest eased, and a rare smile pushed at the corners of his mouth. Before he could breathe, the owner of that sassy tone marched out of the kitchen.

  “Here’s your melt, Walter.” She set an overflowing plate down in front of the old guy at the end of the counter. “Don’t be surprised if that hunk of meat finds its way back to the cow before Bud gets movin’ back there.”

  Aiden picked up the plastic-coated menu he could recite blindfolded and watched her work. Quick hands. Sweet smile. Thick honey-colored hair pulled up into a ponytail that swung across her back. A pair of jeans hugged her slender thighs. A yellow Bud’s Diner T-shirt molded to her full breasts and small waist.

  Good thing he was sitting down because his lower half was definitely standing at attention.

  She swiped a towel over a newly vacated seat near the end of the counter. Catching a glimpse of a new customer from the corner of her eye, she drawled, “I’ll be right with ya, darlin’.”

  Two seconds later she set down the towel, pulled her order pad from the pocket of her apron, and made her way toward his end of the counter.

  “What can I…” Pencil poised, her blue eyes lifted and that beautiful, plump mouth slid into a warm smile. “You’re back,” she said in a slow whisper.

  A quick heartbeat passed while her gaze ate him up.

  Then, before he could blink, she launched herself into his arms.

  FROM THE MOMENT she’d figured out the difference between boys and girls, Paige Walker had known what she wanted in life.

  And what she wanted was Aiden Marshall.

  He’d been a rough-and-tumble boy who’d escaped her amorous intentions in elementary school when she’d tried to talk him into kissing her behind the cafeteria. She’d finally caught him in high school, where he became the teacher and she the willing student in their kissing lessons. They’d been together almost every day until the darkest day in America crashed down in the nightmare no one had ever expected. The following week Aiden, Billy Marks, and Bobby Hansen enlisted in the Army.

  When Aiden had left for boot camp he made her no promises. Once he’d been approved for Ranger training his infrequent letters dwindled. Over the past couple of years he’d barely sent more than a quick note or two. Though he’d told her not to, she’d promised him that she would wait.

  And she had.

  As his strong arms curled around her and tucked her in close, she knew all those lonely nights she’d waited with worry and fear burrowed into her heart had been worth every second.

  Aiden was home.

  Paige pressed her cheek against his faded T-shirt and listened to the steady heartbeat in his chest. She inhaled the fresh scent of his soap and his underlying masculine heat. With a sigh she leaned her head back and looked up at him while her fingers molded around his hard, defined biceps.

  A man like Aiden was impossible to ignore, unless you had severely poor eyesight, or you just didn’t care for a guy with a movie star face and a body honed for elite military missions. On top of all that he had the most amazing mouth—lips that knew how to give a girl a kiss she’d remember until one day she could kiss him again. Today he’d discarded his army fatigues and settled into a worn pair of Levi’s that accented his long, muscular legs and cupped his generous package like a lover’s hand. He looked so good she wanted to lay him down on the counter and feast on him like an all-you-can-eat Sunday buffet.

  On a good day Aiden’s short dark hair and the spark in his brown eyes could stun the breath in her lungs. She hadn’t seen him in over two years—when last he’d come home to his dying father’s bedside. Since then hell had broken loose. Today while he stood close enough for her to touch and hold, Paige knew in her heart Aiden Marshall was a changed man.

  While she told herself it only mattered that he was safe and everything would be just fine, her fears resurfaced.

  Aiden may be home.

  But the smile in his eyes had vanished.

  Chapter Two

  AFTER SEVERAL HOURS and several slices of apple crumb pie à la mode, Aiden and his full stomach leaned back in the chair. He listened while Hazel and Ray Calhoun excitedly described how the senior center had contacted a new TV makeover show to try to put a better face on their small town and increase the tourism. Aiden couldn’t imagine why Hollywood would ever come this far south. It only mattered that the folks in this town and other small towns across America cared enough to try to make things better. These hard-working, generous-hearted people were the reason he, Billy, and Bobby had enlisted.

  A dainty hand with clean, short nails settled over his shoulder. He looked up into the blue eyes he’d dreamed of on many a lonely night. A sudden jolt struck him in the center of his chest. Paige had always had a way of doing that to him. Even now when he knew the heart had been ripped out of him and he had nothing left to give.

  “If y’all are done monopolizing the lieutenant’s time, I’d like to borrow him for a bit,” Paige said in a teasing drawl. “But only if that’s all right.”

  “Oh pooh.” Gertie West wrinkled up her nose. “We were just getting to the good stuff.”

  Aiden glanced out the front window where the sun hung low in the sky. As much as he’d like to, he couldn’t put off the conversation he and Paige needed to have any longer. It would be unfair to her and selfish of him.

  He stood and pushed the chair back. “I really do need to get going.”

  “You come back tomorrow, young man,” Ray Calhoun said. “We want to hear all about your adventures.”

  Adventures.

  Not exactly what he’d call them.

  Wasn’t likely he’d discuss them either.

  He gave the afternoon diners at the table a nod and turned toward Paige.

  “Come with me.” She smiled wide enough to flash those pretty white teeth. “I have something I want to show you.”

  “Your car or mine?”

  She slipped her hand into his and tugged him toward the door. “How about for old time’s sake we take your truck?”

  A sensual flood of memories he thought he’d buried long ago popped up fresh like a spring daisy. “Sun’s still shining.” He smiled and gave her hand a squeeze. “I think the population of Sweet might take offense to you whipping off that T-shirt.”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time.” She grinned. “Now come on. We’re wasting daylight.”

  As she tugged him through the gravel parking lot, he watched the way her hips swayed. Nothing outrageously obvious. Just a smooth motion that belied the passion lit deep in her core. He’d almost forgotten all the little idiosyncrasies she possessed. Like the way she lifted her arms toward the moon when she was on top of him, giving him the best sex of his life. Or the way she’d snuggle right against his side and drape her smooth leg over his hips. Or even the way she’d reach for him in her sleep, then sigh when she found him.

  He’d carried those memories with him through boot camp. Through extensive Ranger training. Through numerous deployments to Iraq and Afghanistan. Then one day everything around him exploded. After that, he hadn’t allowed himself to think of the things that had made him happy. He didn’t deserve to be happy. Not when those closest to him—those he was supposed to protect—were no longer able to have happy thoughts.

  Without hesitation, Pa
ige climbed up into his truck and slid right to the middle where she’d always sat. When he moved onto the seat beside her, she grinned like someone had just handed her a present. His hand paused on the key in the ignition.

  How the hell could he even consider breaking her heart?

  He didn’t want to.

  But it had to be done.

  Chapter Three

  PAIGE TRIED TO remain positive, though Aiden’s smile had once again disappeared. She knew the hell he’d been through from the stories his brother Ben had relayed. She knew she couldn’t expect him to just come home and they’d pick up where they’d left off. From the moment she’d heard the news that his duties had been served and he intended to leave the military, she’d made a vow that no matter what, she’d keep a smile on her face. For both of them. She’d see him through whatever demons he had to face. Because there had never been a doubt that she loved him with her whole heart. And nothing could ever take that away.

  She leaned forward and turned up the radio while Keith Urban sang about days going by. “Hang a right on Dandelion Street.”

  Aiden turned his head and looked at her with those deep brown eyes that made her think of the many wonderful nights she’d spent with him looking down at her while their bodies spoke the oldest language in the universe. “You moved?”

  She nodded as the truck rambled down her street. “A little over a year ago.”

  “You still have Cricket?” he asked of the border collie mix she’d rescued from the shelter.

  “Of course. She’s still got a good amount of crazy going on, but age seems to have settled her down a bit.”

  “Happens to the best of us, I guess.”

  “Pull in there.” She pointed toward the long gravel driveway that invited visitors up to the gingerbread Victorian that sat behind a white picket fence.

  Aiden ducked his head to get a better look through the windshield. “Isn’t this your Aunt Bertie’s place?”

  “Was.” Paige reached down and grabbed her purse from the floorboard. “Aunt Bertie developed dementia and we had to put her in assisted care. She needed the money so I bought the place. Come on. I’ll show you around.”

  “You bought this?” He got out of the truck and looked up at the two-story house. “On a waitress’s salary?”

  “Shocking isn’t it?” While he stood there gawking, she walked around the front of the truck, took his hand, and led him toward the front door. “Actually, I bought it on the salary I make at Bud’s, plus the money I make doing taxes and accounting for a few local businesses. I make money from the apple orchard too.”

  “Taxes?”

  “Oooh.” She laughed at the sudden wrinkle between his eyes. “You look so surprised. I like that.”

  “I do remember you skipped out on geometry class more than once and that you never liked math.”

  “That was before I realized the benefits.” She turned the key in the lock and pushed the door open. “I completed my bachelor’s via the Internet,” she explained. “I’m now the proud owner of a business administration degree. Got a gold tassel and everything.”

  He stepped inside the foyer, gave a slow whistle, and rocked back on the heels of his worn cowboy boots. “You’re a very impressive woman, Paige Walker.”

  “I know.” The praise made her smile. “But you’d better be careful because I have a whole bunch of impressive up my sleeve just waiting to be unleashed.”

  He didn’t need to ask what she meant. He’d seen her impressive side before. She only hoped he’d want to see it again.

  A glimmer lit up his eyes and hope warmed in her heart. She reached out, took his hand, and gave him the nickel tour of Honey Hill—named after the honeycrisp apples that grew in the orchard back between the barn and the creek. The place was way more than she needed right now. But she had big plans. Always the optimist, she’d purchased the oversized home. With him in mind.

  LATER, ON THE back veranda, Aiden lifted the chilled bottle of Sam Adams to his lips and drank. The beer tasted crisp and smooth. The phenomenal view of Paige’s backyard offered a lush landscape accented by rows and rows of apple trees laden with ripening fruit. Curled up at his feet lay Cricket, Paige’s brown-and-black-spotted border collie. While Paige had gone inside to throw together a meal for them to share, he and Cricket played fetch with a slobbered-up tennis ball. A heaving sigh lifted the dog’s broad chest. Apparently he’d worn her out, as now her breathing was deep and even. Not a single brown eyebrow or white paw twitched or moved.

  On impulse he reached down and combed his fingers through her soft fur. When she looked up at him with those deep brown eyes, a fist grabbed hold of his heart and squeezed. He’d always thought of himself as a man who could handle anything. But lately his losses refused to lessen their grip on his conscience.

  “Need a refill?” Paige asked as she came toward the wrought-iron patio set where he sat. Her hands balanced plates of plump, juicy pieces of barbecued chicken and a mountainous glob of potato salad.

  He lifted the bottle. “I’m good.”

  She set the plates down, and the aroma wafted up and tickled his appetite. “I don’t suppose there were many beers to be found in the Middle East.”

  “Not really. Lots of sand to chew on, though.”

  She flashed a quick smile as she sat down opposite him and handed him a fork and knife. Earlier at Bud’s he’d had a large helping of chicken-fried steak and several pieces of pie. Yet as the sweet honey flavor of the barbecue rolled across his tongue, he felt like a starving man.

  “Good thing I cooked last night.” She sipped from her wine glass. “Or this would be carrot sticks and Goldfish crackers.”

  “Didn’t you used to eat those all the time in high school?”

  “Yep. They even make them in rainbow colors now.” She grinned. “You can have a different color for every meal.”

  He laughed. “Only you could make a feast out of a baked cracker.”

  “I can make a meal out of chocolate chip cookies too. Speaking of, did you get the packages I sent?”

  “Yes. Thank you. I shared. Your oatmeal raisin cookies and the teriyaki jerky went over the best with the boys.” She took a bite of chicken then looked up with a glimmer of mischief in her blue eyes. “Good thing I checked the guidelines before I sent those girly magazines.”

  “Yeah, totally against the rules.” He chuckled. “But definitely would have been appreciated.”

  She reached across the table and snagged a chicken leg from the enormous portion on his plate.

  “Hey. No fair stealing.”

  A grin flashed just before her teeth sank into the meat and tore off a chunk.

  “You think you can just pick up where you left off with swiping my food? You didn’t even wait this time till I wasn’t looking.”

  “You never minded sharing and you know it.”

  She was right. Unlike other girls, Paige had never been shy about taking what she wanted. She’d never been shy about eating in front of him. She’d never been shy about snatching a fry from his plate or even a bite of his cheeseburger. To his delight, on many occasions over the years, she had, in fact, turned eating into an erotic adventure.

  Her tongue darted out to lick away a smear of sauce from her top lip, and his body went on full alert. During his deployments he fantasized about Paige. Her passion. The softness of her skin. The firmness of her breasts beneath his hands. The slick heat as he entered her body. During those long, lonely nights she’d become his dream girl. Sitting across from her now, watching her in the flesh, brought those fantasies back with a vengeance. Along with a sizeable erection.

  For a moment they ate in silence. Then Paige set her fork down on her plate and folded her hands together. Because he knew her as well as he did, he predicted what she would say before the declarations were even out of her mouth. And like so many conversations they’d had in the past, he wanted to listen to every word. Not just to hear that sweet, sexy drawl, but because whatever she had to
say was important.

  “Aiden? I know you have a lot going on in your mind. I know you’ve been through more than most could ever even imagine. I won’t tell you I understand. I won’t say I know how you feel.”

  She reached across the table and covered his hand with her own. The contrast was startling. Hers small and soft. His large and calloused. The compassion in the gesture stole his breath. He’d forgotten the power of a tender touch. A gentle moment. A quiet calm that soothed a soul.

  “What I will tell you,” she continued, “is that I’m here for you. If you need to talk or even if you just need to sit and gaze out into the sky without a word. I’ll be right here.”

  The pressure in his chest squeezed until he thought he might explode. She didn’t know what she was saying. He had too much to tell—most of which was ugly and tragic. She was a soft, sweet woman who didn’t need to hear all the hideous details of what he’d been through.

  When you open yourself up to talk, it will help the nightmares go away.

  The advice of his PTSD counselor sprang up inside his head. Before he could stomp it down, Aiden looked across the flicker of the votive candle into the eyes of the woman he’d known since she was a sprite in pigtails. He knew her. Trusted her. Believed she had a spine made of steel. And though he knew he had no business pulling her into his nightmare—knew he should just say what he’d come to say—if he wanted to talk to anyone about what had happened, Paige was the one.

  “You sure about that?” he asked.

  She gave him a slow nod.

  In that moment, something greater than the fight-or-flee instinct took over. He took a long pull from his beer while the candlelight danced in her eyes. It wouldn’t change what he’d come to tell her, but maybe the time had come for him to release the claws of anguish that had dug into his soul. And the only person he could imagine sharing that information with was Paige.

  Chapter Four

  LIKE THE SLOW release of pressure from a tea kettle, Paige listened to Aiden explain what had happened in Afghanistan. As they strolled along the bank of the creek, he told her of the local people and their small villages, many who only desired to exist and wanted to help the American soldiers. He told her of the Taliban who wanted no part in making peace. He told her nightmarish tales of men, women, and children being executed in the streets for no reason. And then he told her of the ambush. Their intel had been sketchy. The terrain rugged. And on that day he’d watched his two best friends die.