Soldier's Choice

by Morgan Blaze

  “No.” His hands curled into fists. “That’s not what they teach you.”

  His father raised an eyebrow.

  “You want to know what I learned in the Marines?” he said. “I learned that it’s not about being the strongest. It’s not about pushing people around. It’s about protecting them—from people like you. Bullies. And it’s about knowing that when you’re not strong enough to handle it, somebody’s always got your back.”

  His father sneered. “What, did the Marines turn into another bunch of pussy liberals since I’ve been in?”

  “No. Things are the same as they’ve always been. It’s you that’s different.” Reese shook his head. “Goodbye, Dad.”

  Without another word, he left the room.

  Chapter 12

  Luka made it through all of Tuesday and so far, Wednesday, without breaking down and trying to rationalize that it would be okay to see Reese one more time. But she wasn’t about to break her arm patting herself on the back just yet. He was still around, always in the back of her mind and sometimes right up front.

  It would take a while. But the longer she went without seeing him, the easier it would get to stop thinking about him all the time.

  She had to believe it would work that way.

  After work, she headed straight home with grand plans to take a long bath, climb into sweats and watch Netflix until her eyes burned out. She might even make popcorn, if she could sneak it past her brothers without demands to share. Mindless relaxation was exactly what she needed right now.

  Just as she shut the door to her bedroom, her phone rang. It was Sydney.

  “Hey, woman,” she answered. “How’s the bride-to-be?”

  “Luka, are you home?”

  “Yes,” she said slowly. “What’s up?”

  “I need your help,” she said, a little breathlessly. “This is going to sound totally weird, but bear with me.”

  She smiled and sat down on the bed to take her shoes off. “Coming from you, weird is normal,” she said.

  “Okay, here’s the thing. I completely forgot about a wedding present for Cam, and I definitely can’t give him what I got for Tommy. That’s just icky, and he’d hate it anyway.”

  “Agreed. And?”

  “And I found out that he—Cam, not Tommy—really likes art.”

  “Huh?”

  “Yeah, I know. It’s weird,” Sydney said. “But not all art. Just stuff by this one person, some old English guy who painted a lot of horses.”

  She frowned. “George Stubbs?”

  “That’s it! So I called MoJo Station, and they said they have a reproduction of Cam’s favorite from this guy. A horse and a white dog. Now I have to go to Greenway tonight to get it, and I need you to come with me. Because you know art.”

  Luka groaned and fell back on the bed. Going all the way to the city and visiting the art gallery was exactly the opposite of bumming around in sweats and stuffing her face with popcorn. “Does it have to be tonight?” she said.

  “Yes. I’m going to freak out until I take care of this, I just know it.”

  Damn. She knew Sydney meant it. This was the girl who panicked for a full day because the bridal store wasn’t sure whether it would take three days or four to get the veil she’d special ordered—a month before the wedding. “All right,” she muttered, throwing an arm over her eyes. “I’ll go. But you owe me.”

  “Thank you! You’re the best, I love you!” Sydney paused a moment, and then said, “Oh, one more thing. We have to dress up.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope. They have some big event going on tonight, a local artist spotlight or something, and there’s going to be tons of fancy people. If we don’t dress up, we’ll look like kitchen help or something and everyone will ignore us.”

  “They don’t have kitchens in art galleries.”

  “Well, caterers, then.”

  She groaned again. “Fine. You really owe me.”

  “Awesome! I’ll pick you up at seven-thirty.”

  “Yeah, sure. Bye.”

  Luka ended the call and threw her phone on the bed. So much for mindless relaxation. At least going on another wedding-panic adventure with Syd would keep her thoughts just as occupied—but now she’d risk thinking about not painting anymore, and being miserable over that. She missed it already. But she was determined to go for at least the rest of the week without painting, since doing it only reminded her how worthless she was.

  Well, she was still going to take a long bath. And use all the hot water before the boys got home, just so she could laugh when they tried to take cold showers. After all, what was the fun of being a little sister if you couldn’t annoy your brothers?

  The idea put a smile on her face, and she still wore it as she headed for the bathroom.

  * * * *

  When Luka came downstairs just before seven-thirty, wearing a little black dress that was the extent of her formal wardrobe besides the bridesmaid dress, all three of her brothers were sitting on the couch in the living room. Together.

  Her eyes narrowed. “What’s going on?”

  They turned in unison to look at her, and she could practically see the haloes. Now she was definitely suspicious. “That new action movie just hit Netflix, so we’re gonna check it out,” Gage said. “Wow, you’re all dressed up. Where are you going, a funeral?”

  “Ha-ha.” At least that sounded normal. “I’m going out with Syd. Don’t wait up.”

  “Like we would.”

  “Well, not when you’re with Sydney, anyway,” Mark said. He shifted and held his phone up, looking at something on the screen.

  Suddenly, the flash went off.

  “Mark! Did you just take a picture of me, you jerk?”’

  He grinned. “Hey, I need blackmail material. Who knows when we’ll see you in a dress again?”

  “Gimme that.” She lunged for the phone, but Mark pulled back and shoved it in his pocket. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll just snap a picture of you in the shower.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “Watch me.”

  A sharp knock at the door made her jump a little. “My ride’s here,” she said. “Goodbye, you cretins.”

  “Bye, Luka,” they chorused in unison. And Gage added, “Say hi to the deceased for me.”

  “Oh, shut up.”

  She went to the door and slipped outside fast before Sydney could come in. “Don’t go in there,” she said. “They’re being really weird.”

  “Aren’t they always?” Syd laughed and hugged her. “You look amazing.”

  “You too.” Sydney’s midnight blue cocktail dress clung to her curves in all the right places. “Did Cam see you going out in public with that?”

  “Yeah, and you know what he said? That I look better without it.” She rolled her eyes and smiled. “Come on. Let’s go.”

  It was a bit of a challenge climbing into Syd’s pickup with this dress on, but she managed. Sydney vaulted into the driver’s seat, started the engine, and pulled away. “God,” she said. “Is there anything more redneck than driving a pickup in a cocktail dress?”

  “Sure there is. We could have a box of wine in here.”

  “Hey, I like that idea.”

  “Let’s save it for after driving.”

  “Yeah, I like not dying in a car crash better.”

  “Me too.” Luka shook her head and stared out the window a minute. “Hey, Syd. Do you know if my brothers are planning something…I don’t know, colossally stupid?”

  Sydney blinked rapidly. “Why would I know that?”

  “I have no idea. They’ve just been acting so strange lately. Like they’re keeping some big secr—wait a minute. Does this have anything to do with your arch?”

  “My what?”

  “Your garden arch, for the wedding. The one Mark called you about because he supposedly forgot the numbers.”

  “Um. What does a garden arch have to do with getting a painting for Cam? Well, besides that
they’re both for the wedding.”

  “Oh, God, you’re right. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m freaking out.” She sighed and sank into the seat a little. “I’m so confused about…everything. Reese. Painting. My whole life.” Her hands twisted together restlessly. “But I shouldn’t be talking about this now,” she said. “We’ve got a wedding to worry about.”

  Syd gave her a sympathetic glance. “You know you can talk to me any time, about anything,” she said. “So talk.”

  “No.” She shook her head and smiled. “I don’t want to sort through this mess right now. I want to worry about your wedding, and help make it perfect for you, and have the biggest damned party this town has ever seen.”

  “All right, but then we’re worrying about you.”

  “It’s a deal.”

  They rode the rest of the way chatting about everything and nothing. When MoJo Station came into view, Luka’s jaw dropped a few inches. “Holy crap,” she said. “Is every person in the city here?”

  “Wow. That’s a lot of cars.”

  Vehicles packed both sides of the main street and the side streets, as far as they could see. A huge banner across the front of the gallery, lit with colored spotlights, read LOCAL ARTIST SPOTLIGHT: Featuring Brand New Talent!

  Sydney turned carefully down the street after the building. “We’ll try the parking lot first,” she said. “Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

  The parking lot was just as packed, but somehow Syd found a spot in the second row. She pulled in neatly, killed the engine, and flashed a broad grin at Luka. “Let’s go in,” she said. “I’m so excited, I could die!”

  Luka’s brow furrowed. “About a horse painting?”

  “Well…yes,” she said, clearing her throat. “Cam really loves that painting.”

  Her earlier suspicions flooded back, filling her stomach with butterflies. Something just wasn’t right here. Whatever her brothers had been keeping from her, Sydney was in on it too. They must’ve told Syd to get her out of the house for some reason—but what? And why did she pick such a flimsy excuse?

  Before she could demand to know what was going on, Sydney popped the door and slid out of a truck. Luka sighed and got out, too. She’d get this over with, and grill her on the way home.

  She followed Syd through the glass back doors and up the long hallway leading to the main room. God, there were so many people here. The air practically buzzed with excitement. Whatever local artist they were spotlighting, it must’ve been incredible stuff.

  When she finally got a glimpse of the main gallery, she realized they’d spotlighted more than one artist. The room was dotted with a bunch of small display groupings, and one huge area set off by portable fabric walls, with a big banner over the entrance. She couldn’t read it from this angle, but that was where most of the people were.

  Sydney stood next to her, staring at something near the big display area. Luka followed her gaze—and froze when she noticed two men in full dress Marine uniforms standing by the entrance.

  She was ninety-nine percent positive that one of them was Reese.

  Her heart jumped into her throat. “What is he doing here?” she croaked. “This doesn’t make any sense. At all.”

  “I don’t know,” Sydney said carefully.

  Suddenly, fury replaced her sick confusion, and she snapped, “Let’s go find out.”

  Before Sydney could react, she strode across the room, weaving around people as they tried to step out of her way. Reese noticed her when she’d covered about half the distance. He went very still, his expression unreadable.

  She marched right up to him and stopped. “What are you doing here? And why are you wearing a uniform?”

  “Er. Hey, Luka.” He whispered it, as if he didn’t want anyone to hear him talking to her. “I’m just…um…”

  At that moment, Sydney caught up to her and grabbed her arm. “Luka, wait,” she said. “Everything’s okay.” She glanced up at the banner above the display for an instant—and did a startled double-take.

  “What?” Luka turned to look.

  When she saw it, the whole world went bright and blurry. The babble of the crowd became a dull hum, and the floor beneath her feet seemed to spin like an out-of-control carousel. If she didn’t remember to breathe soon, she was going to faint.

  The banner said Luka Dawson: Covendale’s Treasure.

  And beyond the walls, strikingly displayed with individual spotlights, were her paintings.

  Chapter 13

  For two agonizing days, Reese had managed to avoid contact with Luka. Talking to Dr. Emerson had made him realize what an absolute asshole he’d been. He didn’t expect her to forgive him, but he’d planned to beg for it anyway. He waited for tonight hoping this surprise would make her more willing to listen.

  Now, as he watched her turn white and waver on her feet, he thought maybe this wasn’t such a great idea after all.

  Her eyelids fluttered rapidly. He darted forward, and caught her before she could hit the floor. “Luka?” he rasped. “Oh, God, are you all right? Jesus—Brett, can you get her a glass of water?”

  Brett nodded and slipped away fast.

  Just then, Luka stirred and opened her eyes slowly. She stared deep into his for a long moment. Finally, she said, “Oh. I guess I’m not dreaming.”

  “No, you’re not.” He smiled gently and helped her stand, but he didn’t let go just yet. “Still dizzy?” he said. “It’d really hurt if you fell on this floor.”

  “I’m all right.” She pulled abruptly away from him.

  That stung, but he managed to hide it. “Luka, are you…”

  “Did you do this? Never mind, don’t answer.” Her hot stare shifted from him to Sydney, who stood a few feet away. “You, and my brothers. You knew about this. Is it supposed to be funny or something?”

  Sydney’s mouth opened, but no sound came out.

  “I can’t believe…” Luka looked around wildly, her chest hitching once. Then she turned around and bolted into the crowds, headed for the back door.

  Reese started after her.

  “Hold it,” Sydney said. “You leave her alone.”

  He pivoted abruptly. “What? Why?”

  “Because you’ve hurt her enough already.”

  The ice in Sydney’s eyes twisted his heart. “I know I have,” he said. “Believe me, I know. I didn’t mean to…but that’s no excuse.” He took a step toward the enraged woman. “I love her,” he said. “Please, just let me try to apologize. And if I manage to make it worse, you can both kick me in the balls.”

  “Oh! Can I have a turn too?”

  Reese shot a look at Brett, who’d appeared out of nowhere with a glass of water. “No, you can’t,” he said. “I’d like to have children someday.”

  “Damn. I never get to have any fun.”

  Something in Sydney’s face changed. “You love her?” she said.

  “More than anything. I’m just terrible at showing it.”

  She broke into a smile. “I know someone like that,” she said. “All right. You’re off the hook, for now.”

  “Thank you. Oh—Sydney Davis, this is Brett Townsend. Brett, Sydney.”

  She turned to him and offered a hand. He took it. “Hello,” she said. “I’m engaged.”

  “I’m not.” Brett grinned. “You’d better get out there, man, before she keys your Jeep or something. I’ll just keep Sydney here company.”

  “Right.”

  Reese practically ran through the main gallery, dodging random people, and rushed out the back door. In the parking lot, he spotted Luka right away—or at least her legs, dangling over the lowered tailgate of a pickup truck. For some reason he found the idea of her lying in a truck bed with that dress on intensely sexy.

  But now wasn’t the time to think about that.

  She was flat on her back, with an arm over her eyes. He stood there a moment watching her, and when she didn’t acknowledge him, he cleared his throat. “Luka?” he said gently. “A
re you just…going to hang out in some random person’s truck?”

  “It’s Sydney’s,” she said without moving. “You did this. Didn’t you?”

  He sighed. “Yes. It was my idea, so don’t blame your brothers, or Sydney.”

  “Fine. I’ll blame you.”

  “Luka, I’m sorry. I should’ve asked you about it. I just…well, I figured you’d say no.” His shoulders slumped and he leaned against the tailgate, his back to her. “This was the only way I could make you see what I already know.”

  “Yeah, and what’s that?”

  “How amazing you are.”

  The silence behind him felt cold. There was so much more he wanted to say—but obviously, she wasn’t going to listen. He straightened and looked toward the gallery, and said, “All right. I’ll tell them to take it down.”

  “Wait.”

  He turned to find her sitting up slowly, brushing the hair back from her face. A tiny smile played on her lips. She hopped to her feet and approached him, and took a deep breath. “You were right.”

  “About what?”

  “I would’ve said no.” She looked past him, and her gaze unfocused. “All those people… they really like my work?”

  “No,” he said. “They love it.”

  One hand flew to her mouth. Her chest hitched, and a tear slid down her cheek. “They love it,” she whispered. “My paintings?”

  “Yes.”

  She made a small, strangled sound—and threw her arms around him.

  He embraced her back. Even if she was only reacting to her art, nothing had ever felt so right. Holding her, loving her…he needed this more than anything.

  And he might have already blown his chance at forever.

  As if she’d heard his thoughts, she pulled back suddenly and turned away. “Sorry,” she said, smoothing the lines of her dress. “I almost forgot. We’re just friends.”

  His heart shattered. The set of her jaw and the hard lines of her body said he’d waited too long—probably five years too long. He hid the pain behind a mask of politeness and tried to shove his hands in his pockets, before he remembered this uniform didn’t have any. “Yes. Friends,” he said weakly.