Bennett whistled. Jack sat up taller and let out a howl, then turned and trotted toward Bennett. He rubbed the dog’s head and ears and whispered, “I know, buddy. I’ll miss them, too.”
Chapter 17
Present Day
Spring was coming to the Outer Banks. Brave buttercups broke ground first, and like the flowers, Harper soaked up the warm sun on the back porch. Her concentration was shattered by real troubles, and she gave up pretending to read, closing her eyes. The sun danced behind her eyelids in a multicolored show.
Bennett hadn’t contacted her since their return from Fort Bragg. Things had been good between them. Why had she ruined it by bringing up Noah’s death and the mysterious promise? Why couldn’t she leave it alone? It had no bearing on the future. Except somehow it did.
If the burden was hers alone to bear, then perhaps happiness could coexist with the questions. But Bennett carried the burden as well. They would never work unless they could lay down their burdens together.
Even without Bennett’s support, her plans for the café moved forward at a rapid clip. Joyce had accompanied her to a restaurant equipment auction and Harper tried not to dwell on the fact that the auction represented someone else’s failed dreams.
The sliding glass door from the kitchen swished open and the deck planks creaked. Harper squinted. Haloed by bright sunlight, her mother took a chair and tilted her face toward the sky like one of the buttercups.
“How’s Bennett?” Although her mom’s voice was casual, Harper sensed the worry behind the question.
Harper hadn’t told her about their argument. Even thinking about it upset her. She missed him in ways she never thought possible. “I don’t know.”
“What happened?” Patience was in the question.
Maybe she’d sleep better if she excised the poison. “Bennett was there when Noah was killed.”
“Stands to reason since they were on the same SEAL team.”
Harper closed her eyes and followed the dancing light. “I mean he was with Noah when he died. When we were at Allison’s, I overheard him and Darren talking. He’s not telling me something. Something important. Not to mention, he accidently let drop a promise he made to Noah. One that involved me and maybe Ben too. I pushed the issue on the way home from Fort Bragg.”
“Wouldn’t budge?”
Harper shook her head. “He got mad. Basically told me not to worry my pretty little head over it. I don’t see how we can move on together with Noah between us. Got any sage advice?”
Her mom was silent for so long, Harper propped herself up. The expression on her mother’s face was part pity and part exasperation.
“Yeah. Cut him a break. How about you back off forcing him to talk to you and wait until he’s ready. I can only imagine Noah’s death was extremely traumatic and dating his widow must leave him confused and conflicted.”
Harper flopped to her back. Her mom had never been one to sugarcoat her opinions or throw her only daughter 100 percent support when it was undeserving. When she was a teenager, defensive anger would flare at her mom’s tough talk. Time and experience had proved that more often than not, she was right. Even if Harper didn’t want to admit it.
Tears clogged her throat and scratched at her eyes. She hadn’t cried this much since seeing the navy chaplain at her front door.
“Have you talked to him?” Her mom’s tone had softened.
“Not since we fought.”
“That’s where I would start.”
Her thinking needed to be readjusted. She had assumed the moral high ground—all she wanted was the truth after all—and put Bennett squarely in the wrong. Did she have it backward? Maybe they straddled right and wrong. Or perhaps right and wrong didn’t exist, only the complications of living.
She stood up so fast she saw sunbursts. Urgency thrummed now the fog had cleared. “I hate to ask, but could you pick Ben up from preschool so I can work things out with Bennett? If he doesn’t slam the door in my face, that is.”
“Ben and I will be fine. You go on.”
Harper dropped a quick kiss on her mom’s cheek and took off at a run to change into jeans and a T-shirt. Determined to set things right, she was on the road in ten minutes. Unfortunately, she had an hour and a half to second-guess herself, and by the time she pulled up to the survival school she was a tangled mass of insecurity and indecision.
It was his day off, but two SUVs were parked next to his truck. Was he with customers or friends or had he moved on with another woman? She couldn’t barge in and splatter her heart all over the place. After sitting in her car like a stalker for twenty minutes with no sign anyone was leaving anytime soon, a new issue presented itself.
She needed to pee. Dammit. It was either leave and find a gas station, use the woods, or pull up her big-girl panties and face Bennett.
Her boots crunched gravel on her walk to the door. The sound loud in her ears. The nerves ricocheting around her body only made her need to pee worse. Like last time, the Closed sign was displayed, but the door was unlocked.
She opened the door slowly. The chime echoed. She braced herself, but only Jack London was there to greet her. She rubbed him behind the ears with both hands and he sat, narrowing his eyes in enjoyment. If only his master were as easily won over.
A voice carried from the back, masculine but indistinct. She weaved her way around racks and displays on the shop floor to the slightly ajar storeroom door. The closer she got, the louder the voices grew. All male and deep and interspersed with laughter. Relief he wasn’t with a woman left her knees trembling.
Jack pushed the door farther open with his head and trotted inside. She peeked in. Three men stood with their backs to the door. Jack worked his way next to Bennett, who was in the middle, two inches taller than either man at his side. She would put money on the fact that all three were current or former military.
The man on Bennett’s left glanced over his shoulder. His gaze crossed hers and held, his confusion turning to surprise. Alex Ramirez. Another member of Bennett and Noah’s SEAL team. He had been to their house for cookouts and to watch football with Noah. Without taking his eyes off her, he turned and elbowed Bennett.
There was nowhere to hide. She forced herself forward, hoping her mouth was in something resembling a smile.
“Harper Wilcox?” There was enough of a question in Alex’s voice to indicate he wasn’t sure he believed his eyes.
“Alex. It’s been years. How are you?” She shook his hand, keeping her eyes averted from Bennett for now. Alex was good-looking, with crinkly laugh lines around his eyes, but experience and years had added a wariness she’d never noticed.
“I’m good. How are you? I meant to stop by and offer my condolences after Noah, but by the time I got home, you had moved.” He ran a hand over his jaw and broke eye contact. “Anyway, I’m real sorry. Peaches was a good SEAL and an even better man.”
“Noah loved you guys and loved being a SEAL.” Offering absolution, she touched his arm lightly and tilted her head to catch his eyes. His misplaced guilt faded. “What are you doing now? Are you out?”
“I’m a SEAL instructor.” He chuffed a dry laugh. “We hated their guts when we went through training, and now I’m one of them. It’s crazy.”
“You love yelling at those kids; don’t lie.” The third man, the one she didn’t recognize, held out a hand. “I’m Tag Barnes. I came up a couple of years after these yahoos and served on SEAL Team Three. I’m out now.” Although he smiled, a strain showed in the set of his shoulders and around his eyes.
Bennett exuded a similar tension as if he was on defense against an enemy. Finally, she forced herself to look him in the eye. Noah had worn his emotions on the outside. His happiness or anger or sadness had been tangible. Bennett hid everything away like a bear in his cave.
Standing in the midst of the three men and with Bennett staring at her with a seriousness that didn’t portend well, she had a sense of what Goldilocks had felt like after she ha
d been caught.
In the awkward silence, she said, “I need to use the restroom, if you’ll excuse me. I drove up from Nags Head.”
“Out by the changing rooms.” He pointed back out the door, and she took a step backward. She didn’t sense any welcome or softening toward her in his voice.
She escaped to the small bathroom. It was clean and well stocked. After taking care of business, she stared at herself while she washed her hands. What now? He didn’t want her here. Did she give up and retreat with her tail between her legs?
Her heart felt like it could use a box of Band-Aids and some Super Glue, but if she left without settling things one way or another it would need stitches.
By the time she emerged, the three men had moved to the shop floor and Bennett was talking about his services, making notes on a brochure. She pretended to browse.
“Some of the men will be amputees like me.” Tag pulled up his pant leg and revealed a matte gray metal leg.
“No problem. The terrain is flat, and there are bridges across any waterways. The hard part is setting up a shelter and getting food and water. It’ll be a challenge, but doable.”
“I’ve got five committed.” Alex waved the brochure around. “I have a feeling several more will want in once I tell them about this place and you and show them this. You sure this isn’t too much trouble?”
“Dude, it’s the least I can do. I can line up another guide to come. We can handle up to ten. That number makes hunting more difficult, though. Too hard to keep everyone quiet. If you’d rather split this into two weekends with smaller groups, I’d be game for that.”
“Let me talk to the boys, and I’ll let you know.” Tag tapped the brochure on his thigh.
“My meeting this afternoon should wrap up by happy hour. You want to hit the bars tonight?” Alex asked.
Her breath stalled and she couldn’t stop herself from looking over.
“No thanks. Not my scene anymore.” Bennett’s excuse may have been only for her benefit, but she was grateful nonetheless.
“Dinner tomorrow?”
“I’ll shoot you a text and let you know.”
A round of hand shaking and shoulder bumping followed. Both men offered good-byes to her as well. Bennett walked them to their SUVs, and when he returned he crossed his arms over his chest. The door drifted shut, the chime signaling the start of round one.
“Looks like business is good?”
“I’m donating a trip, maybe two, to Wounded Warriors.”
“That’s amazing.”
“What you’re doing with the coffee business and for those women … You inspired me. I’ve stayed holed up here all alone for too long.” Although his face was still cast in serious tones, his voice had warmed. Between that and his words, she was encouraged enough to come within an arm’s length of him.
“I’m sorry.” The words came easier than she thought possible. “I shouldn’t have pressed you about Noah. I can’t help but want to know what happened, but my curiosity doesn’t trump whatever burdens you still carry from that day.”
“You’ll never ask me what happened again?” The incredulity in his voice was plain.
She shuffled so close she had to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact. “Honestly, I think it would do you good to talk about it, but I won’t insist. If you tell me no, I’ll respect it.”
“I appreciate that.” He dropped his arms but didn’t touch her. Still, it was like lowering the drawbridge over an alligator-infested moat, and she pressed her advantage.
“I don’t want the past to destroy whatever we’re building in the here and now. I’ve been sick with missing you.” She laid a tentative hand on his arm.
He sighed away the last of his defenses, wrapped an arm around her waist, and pulled her into his body. She fisted her hands in his shirt and held him close, her nose buried in the collar of his black T-shirt.
“I’ve missed you, too. So damn much.” His voice was muffled in her hair. “I thought I could slip back into my old life.”
“You couldn’t?” She fished for a bolster to her confidence.
“What I thought was peace was loneliness. It sucked.”
She tightened her hold on him. “It totally did.”
His beard rubbed against her temple. “Did you go to the auction?”
“Yep. I took Joyce. She’s a firecracker. We did well, but I nearly had a heart attack when it came time to pay. That’s more than I’ve spent in one go ever.”
“I remember the feeling. Buying stock to fill this place up was daunting.”
Everything about him felt right. His size, his strength, the way he held her with a barely disguised fierceness that stoked an answering burn in her. Noah had been her inverse. His light had counteracted her dark.
She and Bennett were alike in ways that made her nervous. He understood her fears because he battled them, too. She had admired Noah’s optimism, but she craved Bennett’s intensity.
“Do you want to come upstairs?” His chest rumbled. A storm was coming and she had two choices, revel in thunder and lightning and chaos or run back to her calm existence.
It was a no-brainer. She slid her hand into his hair and leaned back. His eyes were shadowed and tension drew his lips thin. The moment was pivotal.
“I’d love to.”
The brackets around his mouth smoothed, although the ferocity of emotion in his eyes only deepened. His grip on her tightened and then eased. “Let’s go then.”
He locked the front door and led them to the back of the store to the stairs. Now that she was out of his arms, a shiver ran through her. Not fear of the future or regret of the past, but an excitement she hadn’t experienced for too long.
He gestured to the stairs and she preceded him, his hand warm on her lower back. At the top, she opened the door and stepped into a warm loft-style space. A TV was mounted on one wall with an L-shaped comfy-looking couch in front. Neatly stacked magazines were on a side table. A pair of running shoes jumbled against each other in front of the couch as if he’d toed them off and collapsed. Stainless-steel appliances reflected the light coming in the windows. Through an open door to the side of the kitchen, she could see a sink and shower.
Browns and greens dominated the color scheme. Log walls and beams along the ceiling gave the impression of being in the woods except with all the comforts of the indoors. A king-size bed with rumpled covers took up the back wall. Nerves sprouted in her stomach and clogged her throat.
She whirled around and attempted a smile, even though her lips were dry and stiff. “It’s very you.”
“How so?”
She swallowed. “Masculine” and “sturdy” were the first words that popped into her head, but those were too telling, and he already had the home field advantage. “Woodsy and natural,” she finally said.
“Like an air freshener?”
A laugh sputtered out of her. “Only the best sort. The little pine trees you hang from your rearview mirror.”
His half smile was easy and charming. “How about a drink? It’s five o’clock somewhere, right?”
“Sure. Why not.”
He rubbed his hands together and quickstepped to the kitchen. He was nervous, too. The realization washed over her, and although it didn’t eliminate her nerves, the knowledge she wasn’t the only one battling worried anticipation about the next step helped her function like an adult.
“I don’t have martini supplies, I’m afraid. But I have an excellent red wine.” He held up a bottle.
“Perfect. My mom is the martini fanatic. I think she read a how-to book with steps on becoming the most eccentric retiree. Martinis and embarrassing T-shirts were top on the list.” She joined him in the kitchen and leaned a hip against the counter as he opened the wine.
Watching his hands manipulate the corkscrew bordered on foreplay. Soon those big, capable hands would be on her doing things she’d dreamed about. He shot her a look, his eyebrows raised, and as if he could read her mind, heat r
aced through her. Luckily, he didn’t call her on it but poured them two glasses.
She sipped the wine more out of something to do than any real desire. He led the way to the couch, sprawled in the corner, and watched her over the rim of his glass. She took her time, running her fingers along the back of the couch and making a more thorough examination.
The top magazine focused on outdoor sports; the one underneath was National Geographic. Picking a seat seemed a first test. She sat next to him but not close enough to touch.
“You’re nervous?” Amusement edged his voice and fired her ire.
“And you’re not? We’re going to—” She gestured toward the bed. “It’s been a while and what if I…” The look on his face stopped her rambling. Had she misread the situation? “Oh my god, if you don’t want to have sex then—I just assumed that—”
“Slow down, darlin’.” He grabbed her wrist when she tried to stand and pulled her back down. She landed between his legs, and her back settled against his front. “Yes, I want to have sex.”
He plucked the wineglass from her stiff fingers and set it next to his on a side table. She wanted to relax and at least give the appearance of worldliness, but the tension in her body coiled even tighter, as she waited for him to make his move.
His arm snaked around her middle and locked her tighter against his body, and his hand covered her fist. The gentle, nonaggressive brush of his fingers unlocked the tight hold and her hand unfurled and linked with his.
“I’ve never known a woman to speak as bluntly as you do.” His breath tickled the hairs at her nape and sent tingles streaking down her body. Her neck went lax and she rested her head on his shoulder, his beard bristly against her cheek.
“Take it or leave it, big guy.”
“Oh, I’m definitely keeping you. I was never good at the games women play. That’s one reason I preferred to keep things casual and simple. I took what I needed and left before anything got serious and someone got hurt.”
The Military Wife Page 21
