“To Noah,” Bennett repeated before taking a swig, his eyes anywhere but on her.
Guilt splattered her mood like a Pollock painting. Others would see this business as a memorial to Noah and part of her motivation was to honor his memory, but it was also a selfish endeavor.
The kids came in and Allison got them set up in the den with snacks and video games, which based on their reaction was an unusual privilege. A tutu-clad Sophie stopped to give Harper a hug and whispered in her ear, “Will you read me a story tonight?”
“Sure thing, princess.”
Sophie skipped off singing a Disney song.
Darren and Bennett joined the women at the table to pick over the appetizers Allison had laid out. Although the conversation remained superficial, a tension pushed and pulled between Allison and Darren. It was dark and worrisome.
“I would love to book one of your survival weekends, man. They sound awesome,” Darren said between bites.
“No need for you to book one. Winter is slow. How about next weekend? Anyone else from the team around? We could make it a mini-reunion.” Bennett stared at Darren, his brow furrowed.
Allison had straightened and touched Darren’s arm lightly, her gaze pinging between Bennett and her husband. “That sounds like fun. You should go.”
Darren shifted his arm away from her, and a flash of hurt crossed Allison’s face. She slumped back in her chair.
“It would be amazing to get together. I’ll ask around.” Darren peeled the label off his beer. “But I might have to work. You know how it is.”
He had no intention of calling anyone or going anywhere, but no one exposed his lie. During dinner, the kids dominated the conversation, which seemed to suit everyone fine. It made things easier.
While she and Allison loaded the dishwasher, Harper said, “I hate we’re kicking the girls out of their rooms.”
“Are you kidding me? They’re setting up a fairy tent in the den. It’s all Sophie has been talking about. I wouldn’t be surprised if Ryan doesn’t end up sleeping with them.” Allison gave the counters a final wipe down. “I wasn’t sure whether to put you and Bennett in the same room or not?”
“Not.” She shot back to the night before and waking next to his strength and heat and her innards turned gooey. She waited until Allison tossed the rag over the faucet. “Are you and Darren okay?”
Allison sighed and shook her head. “Okay? What does that mean anymore? We sleep in the same bed, but he never touches me. Never wants me to touch him.”
“Is he…” Harper couldn’t even put her fears into words. Allison and Darren’s marriage had seemed so solid.
“Cheating? I don’t think so. It’s more that he’s become sensitized to everything—noises, touch, bright lights.”
Darren needed professional help, but nothing and no one seemed able to make him seek it. The rest of the evening passed in the same vein—tension and anxiety overlaid with a fake brightness. It was exhausting, and Harper was glad when the kids’ bedtime offered her an escape. She crawled into the fairy tent, which was actually quilts and covers thrown over furniture to form a lean-to of sorts, to read Sophie her story.
The four adults climbed the stairs together, Bennett ducking into Libby’s room and Harper taking Sophie’s. Darren and Allison disappeared into the master bedroom and closed the door.
After getting ready for bed, Harper stared at the movable shadows on the ceiling. Her mind bounced between worries like a pinball machine. Her bland, boring life had become anything but.
A noise outside her door had her bolting to her feet, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. She cracked the door half-expecting another foray into the night by Darren. But the hallway was empty. Her heart slowed as her senses strained outward.
The eerie noise came again and this time she recognized the moan as Bennett’s. She flew across the hall and opened his bedroom door. A night-light on the wall illuminated him tangled in a sheet with pink hearts. He tried to escape their cotton prison as his arms reached from something he could see only in his dream. Or maybe he was trying to keep something at bay.
He was bare chested, but she could see pajama pants riding low on his hips at the edge of the sheet. She eased onto the edge of the bed and poked his bare shoulder. When her gentle touch failed to rouse him, she shook his shoulder.
“Wake up, Bennett.” She kept her voice at a whisper knowing how sound traveled through the thin walls. Dropping her face closer to his, she shook him harder. “Wake up.”
His surge to sitting surprised her. He grabbed her upper arms, his grip biting. She squirmed. “Bennett. Let me go.”
His hands loosened, but he didn’t release her. “Harper?” His voice was rough with sleep and emotion.
“You were having a bad dream. Was it the same one?”
“Did I wake everyone up?”
“No one. I wasn’t even asleep yet.” She stroked his sides, smooth skin over muscle.
She tried not to notice how good he felt, but with the danger passed she became intimately aware of their position. She had managed to get herself in bed with him once again. This time she was only wearing an oversized T-shirt and panties. Maybe her subconscious was telling her something.
He ran his hands up and down her arms, the rasp unbearably arousing and soothing at the same time. Her hands moved, too, dancing up his back and bringing her chest closer to his. He was warm and solid.
“Maybe I should stay with you,” she said softly. “Otherwise, you won’t go back to sleep, will you?”
His slight laugh was raspy. “I’m used to bad dreams, but I won’t object.”
He drew her down on the bed with him. It was a twin bed and they lay on their sides, facing each other. She buried her face in the hollow of his throat and pretended her motivations were purely altruistic. One hand was trapped between them, but the other roved selfishly over his body making notes of what made his breath hitch and what made him shiver.
His hand was on a similar mission, snaking under her shirt to measure the length of her spine with his fingertips until they reached the band of her panties. Her back arched, an invitation to move his hand lower still. He accepted, palming her buttock.
She wanted him even though it was too soon and too complicated and too crowded in the house. He wanted her, too. She could feel him against her, his hips restless and searching.
The soft opening and closing of a door froze them like two teenagers caught by a spotlight. Footsteps sounded down the hall and creaked on the stairs.
Bennett rose, pulled on a T-shirt, and slipped out. She lay in the bed for a few minutes, her ears straining for a clue as to what was happening, but only silence reverberated.
She eased out of bed and glided down the stairs. The kids were motionless in their tent. She moved to the front room and peeked out of the windows. Her breath caught. Bennett and Darren were in the yard grappling.
Before she could decide what to do, they broke apart, their chests heaving. Words passed between them. She toggled the latch and raised the window a few inches.
“—unacceptable.” Bennett’s voice was low but commanding. “You need help.”
“Go to hell. You’re not my commanding officer. Never were.” Darren stalked up to the porch and Harper shrank down behind the window, pressing herself against the wall, but the doorknob didn’t turn.
“No, I am—was, anyway—your friend, unless I’m mistaken.” Bennett’s voice was close now, and she peeked over the edge. He stood toe-to-toe with Darren on the porch, only a few feet from her hiding spot. “I should have checked on you as soon as you got home. I’m sorry for that, but I’m here now.”
“I appreciate that, but there’s nothing you can do.”
“I can listen. You don’t think I had issues after I got home?”
“Nightmares?”
“Of course.”
“How often?” It was almost like Darren was in competition to see which one of them was the most screwed up.
�
��Often enough.” Bennett stepped back and leaned against the wall. The hovering testosterone cloud dissipated. “I got a dog. Believe it or not, he helps. So do people that care.”
“Allison doesn’t get it.”
“Have you tried talking to her?”
“No way am I going to lay my fucked-up thoughts on her.”
“A shrink?”
At Darren’s muttered curse, Bennet said, “Okay. Then, find someone to talk to who’ll understand. Like me.”
The ticking of a clock inside marked the silence. When Darren spoke, she had to strain closer to the opening to hear him. “I can’t turn my brain off at night. I lay there in the dark and think about things I did and the horrible things I saw. I relive them every night. Like it’s happening over and over again like Groundhog Day.”
“Same thing I went through.”
“How’d you get past it?”
“Booze. Denial. Compartmentalization. Then, one night I was out in the middle of the Dismal Swamp by myself and just … stayed. For two weeks I lived off the land. I saw no one, talked to no one; no one missed me.” His voice dropped. “I almost didn’t come back.”
“But you did. Why?”
“Along with peace, I located a selfish will to live. That’s when I got motivated to start the survival school. The school gave me purpose. Maybe that’s what you’re missing.”
“I have purpose. My job is important.”
“What are you going to do if they send you back over?”
Darren plopped in one of the rocking chairs and dropped his head into his hands, his voice cracking. “I-I … don’t know.”
“For your sanity, get out and find a different purpose. Concentrate on Allison and the kids.”
“The service is all I know. It’s all I ever wanted. How can I leave it behind?”
“Look at yourself. It’s killing you, man, as surely as a sniper’s bullet.”
A rhythmic squeak sounded from the slight motion of the rocking chair. “Don’t you think about Noah? Doesn’t he haunt you?”
Harper’s fingernails pressed into the soft wood of the sash at the mention of Noah, and her heart spurred like a horse given its head. Bennett’s face was cast in shades of gray, his expression camouflaged.
“Of course he does, but not in a bad way. I miss him like hell.” Bennett sounded as solemn and serious as she’d ever heard him, which was saying something.
“How can you … and her…” Darren gestured toward the house.
“Trust me, I didn’t plan it. You think Noah would have my balls?”
“Does she know what happened?”
Her head swam as the question birthed a million more. She dropped to her knees and closed her eyes.
“Not the details. And I’m not planning on telling her, either.” Bennett’s voice came from a mile away, almost indistinct. “It’s colder than a witch’s tit out here. How about we go inside?”
“You always did have a way with words, Griz.”
The sound of the rocking chair shifting got her on her feet, even though her knees didn’t feel strong enough to support her. She bolted up the stairs and into Sophie’s room and leaned against the closed door. Footsteps creaked the wood floors, but otherwise the men didn’t make a noise. They were trained to be stealthy and keep secrets.
She buried herself under the covers, shaking even though she didn’t feel the cold. Princesses danced everywhere around the room. Their beauty and innocence and bravery would earn them a happily ever after. Real life was darker and messier. What happened when the princess wasn’t brave or innocent enough for a happily ever after?
Chapter 16
Present Day
The morning was more awkward than she expected. She wanted to sit Bennett down—tie him up if necessary—and get him to spill his guts. He’d be immune to such tactics. Noah had told her about the training they’d received to combat common torture techniques.
Darren and Bennett headed to the shooting range, and Harper was relieved. She couldn’t concentrate on her meeting for the coffee business with anger and frustration about Bennett’s silence muddying the waters.
Harper paced before Madeline and Joyce arrived. They might not even have the skills to help her, but she needed these women to back her, not for money but for a confidence boost. The doorbell rang.
Allison bustled from the kitchen to answer it. Harper recognized Madeline, the pretty redhead who didn’t have kids and complained about the scarcity of jobs, from the one meeting she had attended with Allison. The second woman was tall and dark haired and in her late forties. Although Harper hadn’t met Joyce, they had chatted enough for their greeting not to be uncomfortable.
“It’s great to actually see you guys.” Harper shook both their hands.
Madeline was vivacious, her excitement bubbling up to flush her cheeks and pull her mouth into a smile. Joyce was more reserved and hung behind Madeline, yet not in a meek way. Her gaze was observant and sharp.
“Anyone want coffee?” Allison led them into the kitchen and small talk ruled until they were each sitting with a mug and a blueberry muffin.
Sitting directly across from Harper, Joyce folded her arms on the table and leaned forward. “How did yesterday go?”
“The space had potential. Lots of it.” Nerves hit Harper like a freight train. She hadn’t felt like this since her first date with Noah. She fumbled a blue folder with printed spreadsheets into the middle of the table. She detailed the floor plan, but when she rattled off the lease details Joyce sat back and folded her arms over her chest.
“It sounds perfect, except for the price. He’s asking too much for the square footage.” Joyce’s voice was no-nonsense and practical.
“That’s what I thought, too. Especially up against comparable properties in the area.” Harper handed over the research Bennett had put together. Joyce took the paper, her eyes darting over the page her only movement.
Finally, she looked up. Her smile shoved her somberness to the side, not quite gone but nudged out by enthusiasm. “I love bargaining. My husband says I can talk the devil down on buying a soul.” Uncertainty stole across her face. “But I haven’t done anything like this in a long time, so you’ll probably want to handle it yourself.”
Joyce was obviously suffering from her own crisis in confidence. Considering Harper had been dealing with the same, she empathized and reached across the table to give Joyce’s hand a quick squeeze. Allison nodded once at Harper. It was like her friend was giving her a shove out of her comfort zone.
Harper took a deep breath and laid her hands flat on the table. “I can’t do all of this myself. Not only am I not in Fayetteville full-time, but I don’t have the skills. I need help. I need your help. Joyce, I break out in hives at the thought of haggling over a lease. I would love for you to see what you can do to get him down. And if he’s not reasonable, then we walk and find somewhere else.”
Joyce straightened in her seat and nodded. Her expression could only be described as determined. “I’ll get him down.”
Harper felt like giving her a high five but restrained herself. This was a business meeting after all. She couldn’t stop a smile from breaking out, though. “Once we nail down the space, we’ll have to see about a design and signage. We’re all agreed on Home Front Coffee, right?”
“It’s perfect,” Madeline said. “I’ll research sign makers and get quotes.”
“Great.” Harper fiddled with the sheaf of papers left. She had planned to wait to bring up Phase Two of the business plan, but her confidence in Joyce and Madeline had her pulling it out. “I want to get your thoughts on expanding into roasting and packaging our own coffee.”
Madeline’s eyes grew big and she sat forward. “Yes. I was thinking the same, but I wasn’t sure how much money we had to invest. My master’s dissertation in college was about sourcing cocoa beans for dark chocolate. I came across several coffee growers. Using sustainable growers would be an excellent marketing tool.”
“It’s not going to be cheap.” Harper slid the spreadsheet over to Joyce and Madeline.
Joyce whistled. “Expensive equipment.”
“That number is for a new roaster. I’m hoping to find used equipment at auction.”
“I can handle the procurement of the beans.” Madeline leaned over Joyce’s shoulder to see the spreadsheet. “I’ll start putting out feelers this week.”
“Keep me in the loop about auctions. I can meet you. It’s easier to have two sets of eyes and someone to keep you from overbidding,” Joyce said.
The tangible benefits that the business could offer these women were apparent. If it succeeded. “That would be great. Fabulous. One thing we haven’t talked about yet is compensation. Right now, I have all the monies earmarked for investment in start-up.”
“I’m going slowly insane here,” Madeline said. “You’d be doing me a favor by giving me a project.”
Harper tapped her pen on the table and blew out a sigh. “It doesn’t seem right.”
Allison topped off everyone’s coffee mugs. “You could give them a cut of the café’s first-year profit on top of a salary once you opened.”
“That’s a thought.” As her mind circled the possibilities, she asked, “How would that sort of arrangement work for you two? That way, if you decide a week from now the time and effort aren’t worth the trouble, you can drop it with no hard feelings. But if you stick it out, and we’re successful, then you’d own a percentage of the business.”
Joyce and Madeline exchanged a glance and nodded in unison.
“I feel like this idea has the room to grow into something bigger and more meaningful. What about giving away a portion of our proceeds?” Madeline asked.
“To a charity, you mean?” Even as Harper voiced the question, her mind was already in full agreement. “Wounded Warriors, maybe?”
“What a great idea.” Allison sat forward. “Not to be crass, but that would make for some killer advertising. Especially around here.”
“Should we vote? I’m a yes.” Harper looked at each woman in turn, and everyone else murmured their assent.
The Military Wife Page 19
