Hero of My Heart (The McRae Series, Book 5 - Will)

by Teresa Hill

  "I guess I can't say thank you again."

  "No. You're all done. No more."

  She thought about telling him she'd never forget him or what he'd done for her, but no doubt that would just make him uncomfortable, too.

  "My father," she said finally. "He has a lot of connections at the State Department, Joint Special Operations Command, the Department Of Defense. If there's ever anything you need, anything he can do for you—"

  "He already offered," Will said. "Put it all behind you and get on with your life, Amanda."

  She nodded. "I will. I'll do everything I can to make that happen."

  "Goodbye," he said.

  "Bye."

  She made it down the stairs and out the side door, then leaned against the outer wall of the house.

  She felt jittery, unsettled, like she had no anchor to hold her into place, into this moment in her life. He'd been her anchor, and now he was going. He'd said so, but she could still hardly believe it was true.

  That was it for him and her? How could that be?

  It seemed wrong.

  But she couldn't think of a thing she could do to change it.

  Chapter 17

  Will made his plane reservation and said goodbye to everyone at the shelter. Leaving the kids was harder than he expected. He could see the disappointment in their eyes. A lot of people came and went in these kids' lives. A part of him thought about telling them it would be easier if they didn't let themselves get attached to people so easily, but they looked so young, often so scared, so innocent, he couldn't do it.

  He couldn't ever have been as young as they were. He'd been born old, able to take care of himself and be as tough as he needed to be.

  He tried hard not to think about Amanda, about maybe never seeing her again.

  They had nothing in common, save for those hours they spent together in Buhkai and in the hospital in Djibouti. She seemed... attached to him now, but it wasn't real. It was just the situation. She didn't know that yet, but she would one day.

  She'd be fine. She was a smart, tough, brave woman. And her father would see that she got all the help she needed. So would Emma.

  So there was no reason to worry about her.

  He got to Sam and Rachel's house and parked Sam's old truck—which he'd been using while he was here—in the back in its usual spot. He grabbed his duffel bag, knocked on the kitchen door, waited for a moment and, because they expected it of him, walked right in.

  He'd never understood their determination to treat him like family this way. Sometimes he thought they felt guilty, because, through no fault of their own, they hadn't been able to keep him and adopt him, as they had their three children. But Will knew all about the social services system. He knew people like Sam and Rachel had no real power in that situation. Neither had he. So, he'd never blamed them.

  It had just been one of those shitty things that happened to kids like him. Sam and Rachel were still trying to make it up to him. They'd just kept it up for a lot longer than most people would have. That's the kind of people they were.

  He called out their names as he came in the back door and found Rachel walking into the kitchen. When he'd first left for the Navy, she'd made him a bag of homemade cookies to take with him. Ever since then, whenever he left here, he got the same thing. He didn't think that would ever change, either.

  "That time already?" she asked.

  He nodded.

  She gave him a big hug and handed him the bag. "Will, we really appreciate you filling in at the shelter all this time. It helped so much."

  "I'll feel better when they're in a new building."

  "Me, too. We're working on it."

  Sam walked into the kitchen, put a hand on Will's back, and took the truck keys Will held out. "All set?"

  "All set." Will leaned over and kissed Rachel on the cheek. "Thanks for everything."

  She gave him that look, the one that said no thanks were necessary. She always did that when he thanked her as he left.

  Sam led Will through the house and to the front door, which was odd, because Sam's regular truck was in the driveway, and it was closer to go out the back door.

  "What's up?" Will asked.

  "I found you another ride to the airport."

  "You didn't have to do that. I could've taken the shuttle, no problem."

  "No, someone wanted to take you." Sam opened the front door.

  Down the street came a car he recognized as Amanda's.

  Will sighed, and shot Sam look.

  "Hey, if a pretty girl wants to drive you to the airport, you say yes."

  "I didn't say yes. You said yes for me."

  "Yeah. You can thank me later."

  She parked her car at the curb and got out, looking tentatively at Will, and he didn't have the heart to argue.

  "You're going to watch out for her, aren't you, while I'm gone?" He couldn't help asking that.

  "I will."

  "And you'll tell me if anything happens to her? If there's anything I can do?"

  "Of course," Sam said.

  Will nodded. "Okay. And remember, if you need to leave a message for me, and it involves anything like the word emergency, give me some details next time."

  "I will."

  And then Will didn't know what to say. He felt an odd sense of unease, a tightness in his chest, a feeling much like regret. The complicated ties he had to the people in this house were threatening to bind him too tightly to them, much as he'd always tried to prevent that.

  He wasn't supposed to feel that way. He was going back to a job he loved, a life doing something important, something that made a difference. He was as far away as he could be from the poor, neglected kid he'd been when he had lived here. It was a job that had put him in the right place, at the right time, to get Amanda out of Buhkai. He was really glad about that.

  So, he didn't understand this strange tightness in his throat, the feeling that leaving was wrong.

  He and Sam did what guys did, the slap on the back, the half embrace, and then he grabbed his duffel bag and stowed it in the back seat of Amanda's car.

  She smiled tentatively, and he worried that she looked sad, that she might cry again.

  He hated it when Amanda cried.

  "Are you mad?" she asked.

  He shook his head, maybe a lie, maybe not. He couldn't say what he was feeling right then. Sometimes, just looking at her sent every emotion inside of him into an odd jumble.

  "Gonna let me drive?" he asked.

  "Let you drive?"

  He nodded.

  "Why would I do that?" She looked offended, which was better than her looking like she was going to cry.

  "Because I always drive."

  "Really? If Sam had taken you to the airport, would he drive?"

  Will just laughed.

  "So, he would have?"

  "Okay, he would have."

  "So, what's different about me driving?"

  "Sam, more than anyone else, is the one who taught me to drive."

  "So he's the only other person you trust as a driver?"

  "Not the only one. But I've never been in a car with you." He definitely liked her this way, with a little bit of attitude, not looking so vulnerable or sad. "It's not about you. It's me. I've been told I'm not a very good passenger."

  "You mean you have control issues?"

  He shrugged. "Does that mean I don't get to drive?"

  She rolled her eyes at him and tossed him the keys. He caught them out of the air, then followed her to the passenger-side door and opened it for her.

  "Oh, perfect. You insult my driving, without ever experiencing it, and now you're going to be a gentleman?"

  "I try sometimes."

  She got in, and he pulled out her seatbelt, handed it to her and waited until she fastened it. He closed her car door, walked around to the driver side and waved at Sam, then got in the car and drove.

  * * *

  Now that she was in the car with him, Amanda d
idn't know what to say.

  That she was going to miss him?

  He didn't want to hear that.

  That she hated the idea of him leaving?

  He didn't want to hear that, either.

  Will surprised her by reaching out and taking one of her hands in his. She needed that simple yet powerful connection, needed to sit in the car with him today. It was her last chance to be close to him, maybe for as much as a year or two, from what Emma had said. To Amanda, safety and security radiated from him. He wore it like his own personal force field, and if she was close enough, she could slip inside it and be safe, too.

  Until he was gone.

  Panic started as a little ball low in her belly and grew, pushing up and out through every cell of her body. Jittery heat flooded through her. Her heart rate kicked up. Breathing became more difficult. Without realizing it at first, she squeezed his hand hard.

  He squeezed back, reassuringly. "You're gonna be okay."

  It took everything she had not to burst into tears.

  She turned her head toward the passenger door and squeezed her eyes shut.

  Life was so hard sometimes.

  All the damned time.

  It made her so mad, and left her so tired.

  She didn't say anything until he parked at the curb at the airport. They got out. He pulled out his duffel bag and put it over his shoulder. Then he took her hand again and smiled as he looked down at her.

  "Look, if anything happens, if you need me, Sam always knows how to get me."

  She nodded, trying not to cry, not even able to look at him.

  "All right. Come on," he said, holding out his arms to her.

  She shook her head. "No."

  "What do you mean, no?"

  "I feel ridiculous enough already."

  He laughed. "Let me hold you for a minute, before I have to go, Amanda."

  She let out a shaky breath, still battling panic, fighting and losing against tears. "I know you don't want to be here. I mean, I know you didn't want me here, and I know I should have let myself—"

  "Come here, Amanda," he said, in a tone she'd seldom heard from him. At least not that she remembered.

  It was a voice used to giving orders, used to being obeyed. He would have used that voice on her in Buhkai, and maybe some little part of her remembered. She wondered if she'd ever remember that time with him, if it was even a good idea anymore.

  She sobbed pitifully, feeling so miserable and alone.

  He stopped asking her to come to him and pulled her gently against him, wrapping his big, strong arms around her and holding on. She buried her face against his chest, nestling into the notch between his chin and his shoulder, and tried to absorb the feeling of him holding her close and safe.

  Surely there was no better feeling in the world.

  She thought about all of the powerful people her father knew and all that they could do. She could get her father to pull some strings, call in some favors and keep Will here. Okay, maybe not here, but get him some more leave, and he'd spend it here, wouldn't he?

  But she wouldn't do that. She'd never keep him from doing what he wanted to do or stop him from being there to help the next person who needed him, the way she had, so she just cried harder.

  "Ahh, baby. Please don't do that."

  "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I swore to myself I wouldn't. I shouldn't have come here. I should have said goodbye to you at Sam and Rachel's."

  She felt his lips brush against her forehead in a gentle kiss. "It's okay. It's all going to be okay."

  She nodded miserably, even though she didn't believe it, because that's what she had to do. She'd come here and made a fool of herself, cried all over him and made him uncomfortable. What else could she do now but try to convince him she'd be okay?

  Slowly, hating every second of it, she eased away from him, leaving all that delicious warmth, then made herself try to smile up at him.

  He gave her a sad little smile of his own. "You're going to get your life back, Amanda. I promise. I know you don't believe that right now, but you will."

  She nodded, because there was nothing else to do.

  "Honey, I really have to go," he said.

  "I know."

  He put her car keys in her hand, then gently brushed away her tears. "Don't drive home like this. Pull over somewhere. Get yourself together before you get back on the road. Promise me."

  "I will."

  He went still, and for a moment she thought, maybe, he was going to kiss her. But he didn't.

  "I'll never forget you," she said.

  It slipped out. She couldn't help it. She might never see him again. How could that be?

  "Oh, baby, forget me. Forget all of this. Put it behind you and go on."

  She shook her head. No way she was going to forget him.

  "Stay safe," she told him.

  "I always do."

  He squeezed her hand one more time and turned to go.

  Amanda couldn't do it. She couldn't let him walk away, not like this. Not thinking of her as some pitiful, weeping woman. Anything was better than that.

  "Will?" She took off after him.

  He stopped and turned around, and she walked right into his arms.

  "One more thing," she said, working up her courage.

  She pressed her palms flat against his chest to brace herself and had to rise up on her toes to get close enough to press her lips to his. She'd caught him by surprise, felt his body tense beneath her hands, but his lips were full and so soft, so warm.

  She savored the connection, that little hit of awareness, of need. His hands came up to her arms in a loose hold, and he gave her time to do what she wanted with the kiss. Which was to explore every curve of his soft lips, teasing at the seam ever so lightly with her tongue.

  It felt good, she decided, testing herself and finding herself pleased with the results.

  She was bound to kiss a man one day, and she'd wanted it to be Will. So she had to take this chance, because she might not get another one with him.

  And she was going to make the most of it. She sucked his bottom lip in between hers, toying with the fullness of it, letting her hand slide up his chest and around his neck, pulling his head down closer to hers. The movement brought her whole body closer to his, her breasts nestled against his chest.

  That felt good, too.

  It felt right.

  Perfectly normal.

  She was okay.

  His mouth finally opened to hers, as he sucked on her bottom lip in return, groaning softly as he did it. She could've stood there forever, kissing Will, hanging on to him, feeling safe and sexy at the same time.

  Her senses were singing, happy as could be, no fear, no worries, nothing in the world she needed in the moment except this. She was joyful in a way she hadn't been in months. He was like a drug, the best one she'd ever had. He took everything away, except pleasure.

  Finally he gave up all pretense of fighting this. His hold was still gentle, and he didn't lean in to her body in any way. That was all her. But his mouth... that perfectly, sinfully sexy mouth devoured her.

  She knew it wouldn't go on forever. They were standing at the curb at the airport, after all, people all around them, but she was still disappointed when long moments later, he held her firmly in place and took one step back from her.

  Dark, puzzled eyes stared down at her, his head cocked to one side as, without a word, he asked her to explain.

  She shrugged, smiled. "Sorry."

  "Really?"

  "Okay, no. I'm not. I needed to kiss you."

  "Needed to?"

  "You said I needed to put this behind me, to get on with my life. I was going to need to kiss someone one day. I want that part of my life back, too. And I wanted it to be you. I feel safe with you."

  "That was not a safe kind of kiss, Amanda. You're going to have to be careful, if you go around kissing men like that."

  "I will." She grinned. "I'll keep that in mind, I mean.
Being careful. I promise." Of course, there was no one she wanted to kiss but him.

  "You look very pleased with yourself," he said.

  "I didn't want you to leave thinking about how pathetic I am, crying all over you at the airport."

  He nodded, working to put that blank expression across his face. "Well, it worked. I'm not thinking about that."

  "Good."

  "Amanda, there's something you need to understand..."

  Uh-oh. She knew what was coming. She'd pushed too far, and now she was going to get the talk. "I know. You're leaving. It's what you do. You're always going to leave. It's who you are. How am I doing? Did I miss anything?"

  "I like my life this way."

  "You like it? Or is it just what you've always done? What you're comfortable with?"

  "It's all that," he said, looking as if the question baffled him.

  Well, she'd been warned about him, more than once. "Okay, forget I said that last part. I'm grateful for the time you did spend here."

  "Ahh, honey. If I was different..."

  He'd want to be with her?

  She let herself imagine that for a moment, imagine how wonderful that would be, to have him by her side always. It would be amazing, but it wasn't what he wanted. Or it wasn't what he believed he wanted. Maybe it was something he was scared to want, because of the way he grew up. But that wasn't for her to decide. It was for him. His life. His choices.

  She felt like she was watching something rare and precious, something monumentally important, slip away from her.

  Damn, if she wasn't careful she was going to cry again, and he'd hate that. She would, too.

  "Well, I want you to be happy," she said, meaning it, even if it felt lousy for her.

  "Me, too. For you. You will be. I know it. You're a smart, brave, beautiful woman." He stared at her, trying to smile. It seemed hard for him, which gave her foolish hope. "I really do have to go."

  "I know."

  "Goodbye, Amanda."

  And now came the hard part, the really hard part. Oh, it hurt.

  "Bye, Will."

  * * *

  She watched him until he was out of sight, then drove away from the terminal on autopilot until she could park in an empty lot. She turned off the car and got out, ended up leaning against the door, finally giving free rein to all the emotions of that awful moment when he'd walked away and disappeared.