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Bittersweet Melody

Page 3

by Belinda Boring


  “Cooper?” The soft, cautious question came from behind me, completely catching me by surprise. Whirling around to face the unknown enemy, my posture slackened when I noticed it was Caylee, her eyes wide with shock. A thick woolen scarf was wrapped around her neck to ward off the cool air, but it didn’t prevent me from seeing her lip quiver. I’d startled her. After all this time, there were still moments were I’d forget and react to every little noise or interruption. Unlike then, this wasn’t life or death.

  I stretched my hand out to steady her, to show her I wasn’t a threat. She seemed to have already calmed her nerves, which couldn’t be said for my own. It wasn’t that she’d managed to sneak up without me hearing her. It was the fact that taking her in, noticing how the sunlight twinkled off her blue eyes and how she casually brushed her hair from across her face, she was every bit as beautiful as I remembered. Coughing to clear my throat, the awkward silence thickened until I realized what was happening. She’d asked me a question, and I still hadn’t answered her.

  I was acting like an idiot.

  “Hey,” I started. “You kind of ran off early the other night and left me curious. What was it you wanted to ask?” I fidgeted with the paper between my fingers before sliding it into the front pocket of my jeans. It wasn’t like me to feel all tongue-tied, but sure enough, that’s what I was combatting—a heavy dose of nerves.

  “And you tracked me down?” Caylee juggled the book bag she had slung over her shoulder as well as the brown bag filled with groceries.

  “Here, let me take that for you.” I didn’t give her a chance to refuse, taking the items from her arms as I ignored her grateful smile.

  Rummaging for her keys, Caylee began talking. “I feel like a fool for running off like that without any explanations. I should’ve given you more warning than simply showing up after a show. You were great, by the way. Owen said you used to sing at night after patrolling, but he never did you justice. You were amazing.” She paused her talking to concentrate on digging to the bottom of her brown messenger bag. “Damn it, I know I dropped them in here.”

  A frown crossed her brow, causing wrinkles to mark her flawless skin. I stood there quietly, watching her as she let her bag fall to the ground and began searching her pockets. Something told me she was used to misplacing things by the gentle way she scolded herself under a low breath.

  When she finally tugged them from her pants pocket and held them triumphantly in the air, I broke out into laughter with her. I couldn’t help it. There was something about her that was infectious. The brief moments of happiness with her there on her doorsteps felt completely foreign to the usual weight that hung around my neck and chest.

  Something pulled me in and made me want to linger so I could uncover other mysteries. I knew she would be dangerous. No one who could cause this kind of effect so quickly was ever safe. Not safe for them because, eventually, they’d get hurt.

  And me? Being around someone as bright as Caylee Sawyer wouldn’t allow me to continue in my obsession with seeing I paid for my crimes.

  Especially someone like Caylee Sawyer.

  “So why are you here, Mr. Hensley?” The key was in the door, her hand on the doorknob, ready to enter her small home. She hesitated to invite me because although we’d been distracted by her lost keys, I hadn’t explained how I’d gotten her address. Despite Owen being the one who connected us, I was still a stranger.

  “It’s Cooper. You wanted to say something the other night. Something important. And then you left.” I glanced down at my shoes, not knowing where else to look. I hadn’t imagined the grief I’d seen that night after the show—her shock. It had floored me, rattled me to the core.

  Then she’d disappeared without another word.

  She didn’t answer straight away. Instead, she settled for studying my face as if she was looking for something. Was she hoping to find some kind of decency that she connected to me through Owen? A resemblance to the best friend her dead husband had when he’d enlisted? Was she mentally perusing through the letters she’d memorized, trying to match that Cooper with the one standing in front of her?

  I had no idea, but whatever it was caused the tension she’d been carrying in her shoulders to soften as she smiled. “Why don’t you come in and we can talk. That way we can get comfortable.” Pushing against the heavy door with her back, I ducked my head in respect as I crossed the threshold. With a quick step to the side, I followed her through the house to the kitchen where I was able to deposit my armful of groceries to the island counter.

  “This is a great home. Do you live by yourself?” I slid off my denim jacket and held it with my hand. There was a nice, feminine feel about the place—soft colors, and everything neatly organized into its rightful place. Pictures hung from the wall—landscapes, floral arrangements, and a painted villa from somewhere in Europe. Each stroke had been well placed, the colors vibrant as the artist obviously painted something beloved to him or her. Shortly after I stepped closer to admire it, Caylee joined me shortly afterward with a glass of water in each hand.

  “You’re not the only one who’s drawn to this portrait. I like to imagine that, one day, it’ll be the place I escape to when life gets too overwhelming. Somewhere in Greece or maybe Italy where I can experience different cultural customs and enjoy visiting with friendly locals in the street.”

  I could hear the wistful sound in her voice as she imagined the scenes, but it dredged up different memories for me. I once knew a place—a small, quaint town where citizens would gather daily to greet one another. There was one place in particular, and it wasn’t a place I would ever want to vacation. No, every night, I visited it in my nightmares. My heart lurched as I began smelling those all too familiar scents, causing me to stumble backward.

  Not here. Not now. Not in front of her. Pull it together, Cooper. Find out what she needs, help her, and then when you leave, you can fall apart.

  That was the bullshit part of all this. I never knew where the trigger would be. I could be going about my day and something totally harmless would send me spiraling into darkness. I desperately tried to control it, grabbing hold of tools the therapist taught me while I was in the VA hospital. Sometimes it worked.

  Like now, thank God.

  Taking in a deep breath, I camouflaged my panic with a small sip of water Caylee had graciously offered. All I had to do was keep breathing, take another mouthful, and try not to choke. I clenched my free hand into a tight fist, hoping to calm the tremble.

  “Sounds like a great idea. Maybe one day,” I mumbled. I didn’t continue. Another word on this subject, and I would’ve revealed the tremor in my voice. “Is there somewhere we can sit?” Just the thought of remembering that last tour had my leg throbbing. It was completely healed, but it didn’t stop the phantom pains from plaguing me.

  “Oh, where are my manners?” She covered her mouth with embarrassment before gesturing for me to go through the doorway into another room. “Please, let’s go into the living room where we can talk. Sorry, I don’t usually have visitors. I just moved to Black Canyon at the beginning of the school semester, and it’s just me and my roommate who live here.” She was nervous as well. It caused a pinkish hue to flush her cheeks, making her look even prettier.

  Caylee Sawyer wasn’t the woman for me. No matter what kind of attraction I felt or whether or not she returned it, the very fact she was Owen’s widow made her strictly off limits. I shouldn’t even be giving in to weakness and appreciating her. I was dancing with trouble and, no doubt, flirting with heartache—hers and mine.

  “You’re okay. I know you weren’t expecting me.” Taking a seat on the nearest couch, I practically sank into its softness. I ran my hand over the leather material, wondering whether I could convince my brother to throw out his ratty sofa set for something like this.

  For some reason, Bryce had a strange attachment with the fold out bed he’d had since graduating college, but we were definitely in need for a more masculine upgrade. We
didn’t need the girly pillows Caylee had scattered or the throw blanket, but still. It would make watching football each Sunday afternoon a little more comfortable.

  “How did you find me, if you don’t mind me asking?” Caylee was now perched on the edge of her seat, giving me her entire attention. The way her eyes seemed to bore into me, made me gulp nervously, rubbing my forehead as I began stuttering the answer.

  Damn it, Cooper. Get your shit together.

  “Well, I ran outside to try and catch you, but you were already gone. I knew who you were, so I figured if I called Owen’s mother, she’d know why you were here. I wasn’t sure if you still kept in touch with . . .” I stopped, not knowing how it had been for everyone after the news of Owen’s death reached the States. I should’ve been there, but I couldn’t. I’d had my own recovery and treatment to complete. Add to that, my own shame and guilt left me feeling too unworthy. I didn’t mention any of that now. “Anyway, Marie told me you’d moved to Black Canyon to study at BCU and gave me your address. I hope that’s okay.” I was back to being uncertain. I was never this unsettled around women, but knowing this was Owen’s widow kept me unbalanced.

  “That makes sense. I’m sorry if I worried you the other night. I just got to thinking that you and Owen had spent so much time together. I had questions.” It was her turn to stop and look unsure.

  “You wanted to ask questions?” I prompted, hoping to get her talking again.

  “Yeah. You know . . . ” She looked at me with tears barely filling her round, blue eyes.

  “About?” My heart knew what she meant, but I didn’t want to answer in case, by some miracle, I was wrong. I prayed I was wrong. In all the years since I’d returned, I hadn’t spoken about that last patrol. Anyone who’d tried to glean something from me got the same sterile, simple, military answers. My words were hollow, clipped, and brief—just enough to get the gist for the official reports. Once I’d returned home, however, I didn’t give any kind of response. I locked those memories deep into the vaults of my mind, forever buried.

  As Caylee nervously chewed on her thumbnail, not once looking away from me, I knew what she wanted to hear.

  Give me the strength to tell her something. Anything. Just this once, so she can find peace.

  “You were there when he died, weren’t you?” Her voice came out as a whisper. As low as it was, it echoed inside my head, joined by the familiar voice that liked tormenting me.

  Tell her, Coop Old Boy. Tell her you were there, and if you had your head outta your ass, you could have saved her beloved husband. Tell her. Tell her, you as good as murdered Owen.

  My venomous thoughts made me jump to my feet, my body rigid with anger. I couldn’t argue with the voice, he was stronger than me, and usually when he surfaced, I answered him with a few double shots of whiskey. I hadn’t been a drinker before enlisting, but since returning, I bordered on being a full-fledged alcoholic. It was the only way I could survive and still function.

  Glancing down at the glass of water, there was no way something so innocent would suffice. Caylee stood as well, worry blazing from her features as she reached out to touch my arm.

  “Cooper, are you okay?”

  “Yes,” I stammered again, silently cursing myself for sounding so weak. “Sorry, it’s hard to talk about it, you know?” I stared into her eyes, hoping she would understand. I wasn’t a complete asshole. I knew it was hard for her as well. I wanted to answer her, to give her everything, but there was no denying those answers lay across a painfully charged chasm. It was a wound that refused to heal, a hole inside my soul that, if I stared at it long enough, threatened to pull me in and swallow me whole.

  “That’s why I ran,” she whispered, keeping her distance as I tried to control my ragged breathing. I was falling apart in from of her, embarrassing myself. I wanted her to see me as Cooper Hensley, the rock star god who had confidence and sex appeal. Not the broken man before her who jumped at his own shadows.

  This was why I usually kept people at arm’s length. I didn’t want them seeing this side of me—ever. The only ones who knew the real me, the one who’d returned from war damaged, was my brother Bryce and Marty, my lead guitarist.

  “Look, I’m sorry. I want to answer whatever questions you have.”

  “Well, how about we take it slow?” She cocked her head slightly, compassion now crossing her face. “Owen loved you and spoke so highly of the friendship you both shared. I don’t want to do anything to upset you. I just need to get some kind of closure for myself, and I thought of you.”

  She wanted to move on. I totally got it. Fuck, there were moments where I caved, wishing for the courage to let go of this burden and find some semblance of peace. That wasn’t in the cards for me, but watching her here, in the middle of her living room, a ray of sunshine from the window casting a soft glow over her body, I wanted that for her.

  Everyone deserved to get what they needed.

  “I can’t promise you anything, Caylee.”

  “I know, and I don’t want to make it worse for you.” She took a step forward, judging to see if it was safe enough to come closer. “Hey, share whatever you can. I’d be grateful for anything.”

  She grabbed my hand and squeezed it. The warmth of her touch made me smile, finally releasing the pent up breath I’d been holding.

  “How about we talk over something to eat? There’s a diner around the corner that makes amazing burgers. Might be a good place to start, right?”

  “Sounds good to me. Let me go grab my things.”

  I nodded, relief coursing through me. I wasn’t really hungry, but I needed to get out of this house. Not wanting to make a big deal of it, the picture frame of her kissing Owen had almost crushed me to my knees. I couldn’t stay here and talk about what had happened with that kind of reminder. The photo represented everything he’d lost, that Caylee had lost.

  All because of me.

  “Ready to go?” she chirped happily from the doorway.

  I smiled, trying not to look one last time at Owen’s young face. I was eager to go and get this conversation over and done with. Once it was done, I could go back to burying the pain and living in denial.

  I was good at ignoring things, especially the weird way my heart clenched over the thought of never seeing Caylee again.

  Chapter Four

  Caylee

  He was nervous. The brief drive over to the restaurant was filled with random snippets of conversation—nothing too deep or meaningful, just a few noncommittal comments like, “Wow, the weather’s nice,” and “Traffic’s good for this time of day.”

  I didn’t blame Cooper for the way he snuck peeks at me while he focused on driving. Now that we were together, I was a little hesitant to say anything. It was one thing to want to talk about Owen, to have the courage to share my hopes for closure, but another thing entirely to actually do it.

  Pulling into the parking lot and bringing the car to a stop, I was beyond tempted to simply open the door and make a run for it. I suspected the next little while would open wounds—for the both of us. Maybe I was being selfish dragging poor Cooper into my own personal wants and needs.

  Caught up in my thoughts, I’d missed him getting out and opening the door for me. “You okay?” His brow was wrinkled with worry and I inwardly cringed.

  Way to go, Caylee. Make him think you’re crazy.

  Giving him the biggest smile I could, I nodded. “Yep, just a little . . .” Anxious, terrified, hesitant. Any of those feelings would adequately describe the emotions currently seizing me.

  “Yeah, me, too.” I was relieved to see he wasn’t the only one now feeling somewhat awkward.

  “Looks like we came at a good time. Not many cars here.” He offered me his hand, and I gratefully took it. The contact was brief before he dropped his arm and shoved his hands into his pockets. Chuckling, his face relaxed. “Just as well. I believe that was my stomach telling me to hurry up and get inside to order.”

  His soft
laughter did a lot to ease my nerves. This was stupid. I didn’t know why I was so apprehensive. Even though he hadn’t been expecting to see me here in Black Canyon, it wasn’t as if Cooper was a complete stranger. He had been Owen’s best friend.

  The diner was almost empty as we entered, and the waitress seated us quickly in one of the booths alongside the window. After ordering water, I browsed through the menu, not really sure what I wanted, still working up the courage to begin.

  “So,” Cooper said, hiding behind his own menu.

  “So,” I murmured.

  Placing down the plastic covered folder, Cooper rested back into his seat. His gaze wandered around the small establishment, something momentarily catching his attention before he returned to watching me. “I don’t think I ever asked what you’re studying at BCU.”

  The waitress returned, placing our drinks before us. The way she eyed Cooper like he was something she’d love to sink her teeth into stirred a flurry of annoyance, but he didn’t seem to notice it. I figured he was used to the unsolicited attention his looks brought him—no guy was ever that oblivious to a good-looking girl blatantly checking them out.

  Cooper proved me wrong.

  After ordering a bacon cheeseburger with fries, he handed her his menu without any flirtatious comments. Sophie, according to the name on her badge, practically pouted on the spot, and it wasn’t until I coughed loudly that she reluctantly dragged her focus away from him. Cocking my eyebrows at her, she glared sullenly as I asked for the house salad with extra cucumbers and ranch dressing on the side.

  “I bet that happens all the time,” I chuckled as Sophie sashayed away to the kitchen, a heavy emphasis on her hips for Cooper’s benefit.

  “What happens?” He looked confused. I guess he really was oblivious.

  “Nothing,” I mumbled, changing the subject back. “To answer your question, I’m a psych major.”

  “You want to be a shrink?” My answer had surprised him.

 

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