by JM Stewart
He loved this place. It would make a good family home someday, and simply being near Lauren gave him the same sense of peace as his parents’ house always did. It soothed an ache somewhere inside simply to stand on her damn porch.
He shouldn’t have come. The last thing she needed was him rubbing salt into a wound, but he couldn’t stop seeing the dejection in her eyes. The memory was another piece of shrapnel piercing his skin, jagged and painful and cutting deep. In trying to keep her at a safe distance, all he’d done was hurt her, and he hated himself for it. He’d gotten on his bike and come over, a deep-seated need burning in his gut to somehow fix this.
When no sound came from within the house, he stopped pacing and turned to stare at the door. Hell, he should leave well enough alone. No doubt she was already asleep. With a sigh, he turned and headed down the steps to the sidewalk. He got halfway to his bike, parked at the curb, when the slide of the dead bolt chinking open sounded behind him.
“Trent?”
Fuck. He froze on the sidewalk and dragged a hand through his hair, every inch of him aware of her behind him. What the hell did he say to her? He ought to make an excuse, get back on his bike, and go the hell home. This was a bad idea all around.
“What are you doing here?”
He made the mistake, however, of turning. Lauren stood in the doorway in her pajamas. Blue flannel bottoms, of all things, and a white T-shirt. How the hell baggy, worn-out flannel could look so damn sexy on a woman, he didn’t know. It didn’t help that the soft light of the interior lent the whole house a warm, cozy glow that invited him in. His apartment was cold and empty.
He forced himself to face her. Feeling like an idiot, he tucked his hands in his jacket pockets. “I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t have come. I wasn’t thinking about how late it was.”
“It’s okay. I wasn’t sleeping.” She dropped her gaze to her bare feet, flexing her toes upward.
The vulnerability that came over her caught him in the chest, and he was moving back up those steps before he could talk himself out of it. When he came to a stop in front of her, she lifted her gaze to his, those big brown eyes wide and so goddamn exposed.
“Are you okay?”
Of course she’d ask him that. Because she’d spent the last year and a half worrying about him. Taking care of him. She was the only one who didn’t make him feel quite so…broken.
“I’m fine.” He leaned his hands on the edges of the doorframe. If he didn’t, he’d be crossing that threshold and taking her in his arms for the need to wipe the misery from her eyes. “I’m sorry if what I said earlier hurt you.”
She let out a harsh laugh. “You came all the way over here at ten o’clock at night to tell me that? A text would have sufficed.”
She was right, of course.
He let out an uncomfortable laugh. God, she was the only person in his world who made him feel this exposed, because she’d seen far too much of the stuff he didn’t show many. The only person who knew him better was Will. The problem was, she didn’t know it, and he sure as hell could never tell her. Because he was trying to keep a friendly distance with her.
She looked up and arched a brow in silent question.
Trent drew a breath for courage. Start with the basics.
“I couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t stop thinking about how we left things. I was halfway here before I even knew where I was going.” He hitched a shoulder. The excuse was pathetic, but there it was.
“I’m listening.” She folded her arms, holding his gaze with that boldness he’d always admired. Clearly she wouldn’t give him an inch, and he couldn’t blame her. She’d put herself out there tonight, and all he’d done was knock her back down.
He sighed. Straightened. Shoved his hands back in his pockets. “You surprised the hell out of me, you know. I hadn’t expected you to proposition me. Hell, I’m not sure anybody’s ever propositioned me.”
She let out a sardonic laugh and turned her head, looking out toward the street behind him. “To quote someone I know, I find that hard to believe. For the record, it wasn’t about you. I was prepared to seduce whoever showed up. I decided before I left the house tonight that what I needed was to step outside my comfort zone. I’ve spent far too much time hidden in the shadows. For once in my life, I was going to take what I wanted. You were…more like a test. To see if I could do it.”
He wanted to laugh. If that wasn’t Lauren in a nutshell. One of the bravest damn women he knew. Even in the face of the worst of his PTSD, when all wanted was to be left the hell alone, she’d handled him with care and kindness and strength. She had tenacity, and he admired the hell out of her for it. Except he couldn’t tell her that, either.
He’d come all the way over here, though, to apologize. At the very least, he owed a version of the truth.
“Me too. Deciding to step out of my comfort zone, I mean.” He leaned against the doorframe, peering past her into the house. The television in the living room was paused mid-image. “It’s partly why I decided to go with Military Match. Finding a date to Will and Skylar’s wedding was just an excuse. I’ve never been alone, you know that? I’ve always had Will. When I went into the service, I had the guys in my unit. Even over in Afghanistan, I was constantly surrounded by people. At the very least, I always had Cooper. When I married Wendy, I’d come home to her. Now it’s just me, and I hate it.”
She looked up, gentle understanding in her gaze. “Ever thought about getting a dog? You’re good with them. You carry him with you.” She nodded in his direction, gaze on his chest. Her words suggested she was staring at the tags hanging from his neck.
He reached up, fingering the familiar, warn metal. Grief twisted in his chest. He’d been a demolitions expert and a K9 handler, working with dogs trained to sniff out improvised explosive devices. He’d trained his two-year-old German shepherd, Cooper, from a pup. He’d spent more time with that dog than he had his wife. Cooper wasn’t an animal but a partner. They’d lived together, ate together, played together. Cooper had relied on him for basic necessities, for companionship.
And Trent had gotten him killed. He’d failed his end of the bargain.
“No. I’m not ready for a dog. It still hurts too much.” Trent shook his head and forced himself to release the grief, to focus on why he’d come. If he didn’t, the guilt would suck him under. “My point being, I signed up with that service because I was looking for something in the middle. I wanted…someone to spend time with, someone who wouldn’t attempt to pin me down. I figured I’d start with Will’s wedding and see where it took me. I told Karen that when I signed up. I assumed she’d set me up with someone who wanted the same thing.”
He’d never been the kind of guy who dated dozens of girls. He preferred his friends few but close, and he chose his sexual partners carefully. His divorce, though, had taken it out of him. He’d failed at love. He could blame Wendy all he wanted, but clearly he hadn’t been a good husband to her. She’d felt enough of a loss in their marriage that she’d had to seek companionship elsewhere.
Lauren folded her arms, once again looking vulnerable and defeated. “Instead you got stuck with me.”
Her quiet words were another arrow piercing his armor. Trent swore under his breath and pivoted, stalked to the stairs, and stopped on the top step. He fisted his hands at his sides and peered out at the darkened street around him, forcing himself to breathe through the overwhelming desire to yank her against him and unload everything he’d promised himself he’d never tell her.
She had no idea, not a fucking clue, how wrong she was. She’d blown his control to hell tonight by admitting she wanted him. Telling him she’d gone into their date prepared to seduce whoever she ended up with had filled his mouth with the bitter taste of jealousy. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, couldn’t stop imagining her in someone else’s arms, and every image that filled his head made him want to put a dent in something.
He drew a breath, forcing his fists to unfurl, but couldn’t
bring himself to face her. If he had to look into those big brown eyes, he’d never get the words out. She made him too damn vulnerable. “That’s just it. I’m not sorry I ended up with you. It’s just ironic, really.”
“Ironic that you ended up with someone who reminds you of your sister, you mean? I get it, you know. You’re not attracted to me. Hell. So far, nobody is. So you can save your breath. I’m sorry I got angry. I was embarrassed, and it was a knee-jerk reaction.”
This time the pain and dejection in her voice were sharp points piercing his insides he could no longer ignore. He pivoted and marched back to her. He ached more than he could ever remember to cross the threshold. To taste her. To just once hear what sounds she made in the heat of passion. To feel her body rise to his.
She was right. She needed someone who’d go slowly the first time, who’d be gentle with her, and damned if he didn’t want to be that man.
The thought of hurting her, of losing the easy friendship they’d formed, though, was a hole in his chest.
She stared at him as if waiting for a response, but what the hell could he say? She didn’t remind him of his sister. At all. He just couldn’t tell her that. Keeping her at a distance, as much as he hated it, was for the best. For her. Because Lauren deserved so much better than what he could give her at this point in his life.
Hurt flashed across her face, followed by an angry determination he knew all too well. Lauren hiked her chin a notch. “Well, as long as we’re being honest, you really want to know why I made you that offer? In part because I was curious to know how you’d respond, but mostly? Because in the dead of night, Trent, when the loneliness eats away at me, do you know who I think about? You.”
The stubborn glint in her eye told him that her bold suggestion was a taunt. No doubt in order to gain a reaction. Because the sweet, polite woman he’d come to know would never have said something like that in front of anyone.
Despite knowing all that, her words hit their intended target. Any and all blood normally reserved for important things like rational thinking rushed south. In two seconds flat, his cock thickened behind his fly. Knowing she thought about him in the dead of night shattered the last of his control. Blew it to hell and scattered the pieces all around him.
He was two desperate little seconds from dragging her against him when Lauren braced her hands on his chest, lifted onto her toes, and sealed her mouth over his. For a moment he could only remember to drag in oxygen. Her warm, lithe body against his shot his brain function to hell. Lauren wasn’t wearing a bra. Her tightened nipples rubbed his chest as surely as if she were naked against him, teasing his skin and setting his blood on fire.
Christ, she tasted like heaven. Soft, pliant mouth. A hint of cinnamon. Her hands fisted the lapels of his jacket. To pull him in or shove him away, he didn’t know, but she turned her head, slanting those luscious lips over his, and thrust her tongue inside, bold as brass. All those supple curves he’d admired from afar slid against the hard planes of his body, like she couldn’t get close enough, and Trent lost his fucking mind.
More aroused than he remembered being in a long damn time, he wound his arms around her and dragged her closer before he even realized he’d moved.
A soft moan vibrated through her, snapping him back to reality. Trent finally found what little self-control he had left and pulled his mouth from hers. For a moment he could only stare at her. His heart hammered his ribs so hard he feared the damn thing would burst from his chest.
Shit. She’d gone and pulled that last punch, and he’d fucking caved. Like he had no self-control at all.
It didn’t help that she looked as leveled as he felt. Her hot, harsh breaths whispered over his mouth, calling him back. Those big brown eyes drooped to half-mast and filled with a heat that burned through him.
She stared for one heart-pounding moment, eyes reaching and searching. “Don’t stop.”
For a singular moment, he contemplated taking her up on her offer, picking up the thread they’d started and continuing. But where would that leave them when it ended? Because it would. It had to. He just wasn’t relationship material right now, and in the end he’d hurt her. And then he’d have lost her for good.
She was a bright spot in a dark world. He couldn’t lose her. He wouldn’t.
“Lauren…” Trent shook his head, released his hold on her, and backed away, but her fingers tightened around the lapels of his jacket, stopping his retreat.
She furrowed her brow and shook her head. “We’re both adults. I may be a virgin, but I’m old enough and wise enough to make this decision for myself.” She followed his retreat and pushed herself against him, sliding her hands up his back. “Stay the night with me, Trent. Be my first.”
God she hadn’t a damn clue how badly he wanted to.
He unwound her hands from his back and shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”
Something that looked an awful lot like hurt flitted across her face before she straightened and folded her arms. Her features blanked. He’d seen the look enough times to know Lauren was shutting him out.
“Because I’m not your type. Yeah. I get it. Story of my damn life.” With a slow, dejected shake of her head, she turned and started to close the door. “Go home, Trent.”
Trent swallowed a curse, the taste of jealousy and possession bitter on his tongue. Somewhere in her statement was an asshole he ached to find and rip apart with his bare hands. He could let her think what she wanted. It would neatly sever whatever ties they’d formed tonight.
And they had formed them. He’d never forget her soft body against him or the taste of cinnamon in her mouth. Or how goddamn right she’d felt in his arms. Like she belonged there.
He drew a breath through his teeth and forced himself to remain where he stood, but neither could he keep the words from leaving his mouth. He couldn’t tell her the whole truth, but he had to give her something. He couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this angry with him, and he hated it.
He put his hand up, stopping the door just as it got halfway closed. “I can’t risk hurting you, Lauren.”
She halted. She didn’t turn or even move to fully open the door again, but he’d take what he could get.
“The first time you showed up at my apartment, it had been a bad night. Too damn many dreams. Too damn many times waking up not knowing where the hell I was. And the crushing reality of remembering.”
He reached up, fingering the tags around his neck again. There were three. His, Cooper’s, and AJ’s. Two of his team members had lost their lives because he’d made a fucking mistake. The youngest—AJ—had no family. No one to mourn him. So he’d asked to keep the young man’s tags.
“I needed someone. Just to sit in the same room with me. To keep me grounded. Mom and Mandy mean well, but they hover and nag, and I just end up feeling pathetic. A shell of who I was. You take me as I am, even when I’m cranky as hell. I consider you a friend, Lauren. Friends are gold to me. I’ve lost far too many.”
Lauren turned sideways to look at him. The curtains had fallen again, masking her emotions. With Lauren, it was always obvious. She was usually so open, so warm, that with her, when she shut herself off, an unnatural aloofness settled over her that always seemed wrong to him.
The smile she flashed didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m honored. Thank you for being honest with me. I’m sorry I put you in this position. You should go. I’m sure you have to get up early for work.”
She didn’t give him time to respond, but stepped back and shut the door, the snap of it settling into the frame loud in the otherwise silence of the night.
Trent turned and stopped for a moment, staring out at the darkened street, his heart in his fucking boots. If he’d done the right thing by keeping her at a distance, then why did it feel so awful? How come his gut was tied in a thousand sickening knots? He hadn’t wanted to hurt her, but it seemed he’d done it anyway.
* * *
“Good afternoon, birthday
girl.”
The ding of the shop’s bell chiming preceded the familiar voice, and Lauren turned her head, looking down the length of the interior. Mandy strode through the front door, Steph in tow. Both faces held bright—and mischievous—smiles.
A week had passed since her first date with Military Match. Since she’d gone and humiliated herself by not only propositioning Trent but kissing him. God, what a fiasco that had been. The whole evening had confused the life out of her. His rejections had stung, and she couldn’t stop remembering his odd comments at the Starbucks, the subtle hints that he might be attracted to her, too. She’d finally decided she had to know. To stop being afraid all the damn time.
Except he’d turned her down again. Here it was, her twenty-eighth birthday, and not only was she still a virgin, but she was alone. Utterly alone in the world. So she’d called Mandy and Steph, admitted to feeling pathetic. They’d insisted the three of them go out for her birthday. But they were early. By several hours.
In the process of packaging up a dozen cupcakes for a customer, Lauren shot the two a smile. “Hey. I thought we weren’t meeting until tonight?”
Mandy leaned her elbows on the glass countertop in front of her and winked. “That’s what you were supposed to think.”
Without a word, Steph moved around the counter to the doorway leading to the back of the shop. “We’re here, Elise.”
A high-pitched squeal erupted from the back room, where Elise, her assistant, was icing more cupcakes. It was Saturday, one of their busiest days of the week, and cupcakes were the item of the day. She and Elise had baked and iced more than two hundred this morning, but the display case was almost empty.
Elise exploded from the back room, a bundle of barely contained excitement. The joy on her face would’ve put the sun to shame. She all but ran around the corner, enveloping Lauren in a hug so tight Lauren squeaked in surprise. “Oh, you’re going to have so much fun!”
