by Soraya Lane
She reached out to touch his hand, the softest of touches, but enough to tell him that she was there for him. That she understood. “You mean your wife?”
Ryan swallowed what felt like a solid piece of gum in his throat. It shouldn’t be so hard to go back there in his mind, not after all this time, but whenever he thought of the end, of what had happened, it was as if his mind put up an impenetrable shield.
“What I saw my wife go through took something from me.” He paused. Jessica’s hand was still hovering. “I couldn’t ever go through seeing someone I care about experience that kind of pain again. Cancer is like a snake, it sneaks up on you, and once you’re in its grip I don’t know if you can ever be released.”
He watched as Jessica’s face froze. Only for a second, but he saw it. Saw something cross her eyes and her mouth, something that he couldn’t put his finger on.
Her hand rose then fell back to his again, before she pulled it back entirely. Her face was back to normal but something had made her waver.
“I didn’t know your wife died of cancer,” she said.
Ryan nodded. Had he never told her in all those letters how she’d died?
“Seeing someone you love battle with it, well, I can’t think of anything worse a person could go through.”
The smile she gave him was tight, strained, but he’d probably just made her uncomfortable. Bringing up terminal cancer as a subject made people react differently. He should have realized that.
“Ryan, didn’t you mention something about bruschetta before?”
His mouth watered. “Sure did.”
“Why don’t we share it? See if it’s as good as it used to be.”
Ryan raised his glass, pleased to see the sparkle back in her eyes, that sweet, natural smile back on her lips.
“To old times,” he said.
“To friendship.”
They clinked their glasses together, before he took a long sip of red wine from his.
It was good. Better than good.
This whole night felt great.
“I’ll only say yes to bruschetta if we can finish the night with gelato,” he teased.
Jessica sat back, wineglass tucked in her hand. “You’re lucky I like my food.”
They both laughed.
He’d done the right thing, inviting her out tonight. If they stayed just friends, then he’d be happy. But if something more happened…Ryan took another sip of wine before leaning in closer to Jessica across the table.
If something else happened then he wasn’t going to say no.
He’d have to be a stronger man to resist. And after years of not being interested like this in a woman, it felt seriously good.
Jessica smiled at Ryan as he attempted to cut a huge piece of bruschetta, piled high with tomato, onion and basil. Her insides felt kind of fluttery, her brain kept firing her warning signals that she was electing to ignore, but she was still enjoying herself.
Hearing Ryan open up about his wife, hearing the dreaded C word…it had rattled her. She knew he’d noticed the look on her face, seen the blood drain from her skin temporarily, but she’d managed to recover fast enough that he hadn’t called her out on it.
But still. Cancer? Part of her was pleased she’d never told him. After the way he’d talked about what he’d gone through, talked about what he never wanted to go through again, it had been clear he might not be sitting with her right now if she’d been honest from the beginning. He might not have even wanted to write to her if she’d told him.
But her chance to confess, to share what she’d been through, had passed. There had been a moment, a tiny window of opportunity, where she could have stopped him and told him what had happened to her. But she hadn’t.
And she had no intention of telling him now. Maybe not ever.
“Jessica?”
She looked up. Ryan was watching her.
“This is delicious.”
Jess reached for the large piece of bruschetta he had sliced off for her. The smell of the balsamic alone had her mouth watering. She could feel him watching her as she took a bite, trying to be dainty but struggling given the portion size.
“Mmmmm.” She finished her mouthful. “You’re right, it is delicious.”
When he smiled at her, before finishing what was left on his plate like it was no more than a snack, she knew deep down that she couldn’t tell him. If he was only here for a short time, who was she to be the one responsible for turning that happy smile into a frown? Why should her problems—health problems she’d dealt with on her own—be a reason not to have fun with him?
It wasn’t like she was embarking on a long-term future with the man. They were friends, and friends kept their secrets sometimes. It just so happened this was one she didn’t want to share with anyone who didn’t already know about it.
“More wine?”
Jessica internally shrugged off her fears and eliminated all thoughts of Ryan’s earlier words.
This was about having fun. Enjoying herself with a handsome soldier who would be back with his unit before the year was out.
“Please,” she said recklessly, holding up her glass.
Ryan tipped the bottle of red and filled her glass to the halfway mark.
She took a long, slow sip, and leaned across the table toward him. “Tell me all about the guys you serve with. I want to know what it’ll be like for you going back to them.”
Jessica twirled her fingers around the long stem of her glass as Ryan sat back, his body relaxed against the chair.
“I don’t know how exciting a story it is,” he protested.
She shook her head, laughing as he grimaced. “You’re not getting off that easily, and we’ve got all night.”
“So gelato, huh?”
Ryan laughed. He seemed to do a lot of that around her.
“Believe me, when you’re hot and sticky in the desert, thinking about gelato is like torture.”
“And now you finally get to indulge.”
He passed her the waffle cone before reaching back for his own. They were only a few blocks from where the car was parked, close enough to walk.
“Good?”
“Mmmmm.”
Jessica was too busy swirling her tongue around the Italian ice cream to answer. She just kept making the noise in her throat to indicate how tasty it was.
Ryan gulped and tried to focus on his own dessert. But dragging his eyes from her mouth, from her tongue and the way her eyes were dancing as she watched what she was eating…
She looked up.
Whoops. Caught out like a dog trying to sneak a leg of lamb from the kitchen bench.
He watched in fascination as this time her throat worked slowly, swallowing, running her tongue over her lips then letting her hand drop lower as if she’d forgotten the gelato completely.
Ryan wanted to look away. He tried, he really did. But he found his body moving instead, toward her. The look in her eyes tormented and taunted him, pulled him into her web. He had to fight not to drop his cone to the ground.
Ryan could hear his own breathing, and he could hear hers, too. It was as if there was nothing else in the world around them, like they were the only two people on the street, in this moment.
He raised his arm, high enough to reach out and touch her face, and wiped the tiniest bit of ice cream from Jessica’s mouth. Maybe he had imagined it, maybe he’d gently wiped away nothing. Maybe he just wanted an excuse to get closer to her, to be pulled toward her like a magnet to metal.
His arm ached, he felt a dull throb as he held it up, but he didn’t care. He’d felt worse, and she was worth it. Touching her was worth any lick of pain, no matter how bad.
“Thanks,” she whispered, eyes flickering low then higher again.
Ryan stood there. He gave her the chance to walk away, to move back so their bodies weren’t so close. When she didn’t he closed in, stepped forward and leaned toward her. She was tall but not as tall as him, the top of her head just
higher than his chin.
“Jess,” he murmured.
She nodded.
He pushed her arm down slightly, so she had to move her cone away from her body. It allowed him to get closer. Their chests were close, hovering, but not pressed together.
Ryan dipped his head, waited in case she wanted to move away. But she didn’t.
Jessica raised her chin, inclined it up toward him.
He took a deep breath, looked at her mouth, couldn’t pull his eyes away, then dropped his mouth to hers. Gently, ever so gently, he brushed his lips across Jessica’s.
She tasted sweet, intoxicating. Gelato mixed with the warmth of a woman who wasn’t sure, who wasn’t used to being kissed in the street on a first date.
Ryan couldn’t pull away, couldn’t force his feet back. Instead he pressed their bodies that little bit closer, and touched his lips to hers again, more firmly this time.
Jessica couldn’t breathe. She was finding it hard enough staying upright, let alone making her lungs work.
His lips fell on hers again, brushing, teasing, tasting. She couldn’t help the tiny moan that escaped her mouth. Ryan’s lips were soft yet strong, gentle yet firm, and it was turning her body into jelly.
He slowly pulled his lips away, raised his head high enough to look into her eyes.
“Hey,” he whispered.
“Hey,” she managed to reply.
They stood like that, bodies pressed together, neither ready to back away.
Ryan cleared his throat.
“I think your gelato’s dripping down my arm.”
“Oh!” Jessica jumped back and worked to clean up her cone, to stop the drips.
“Napkin?”
She nodded.
He walked back over to the ice cream vendor and retrieved a handful of paper napkins.
They wiped at their cones and started to eat them again, standing like a pair of teenagers who had no idea what to say to one another after their first kiss.
Jessica’s body was singing, talking to her like a record on repeat. Telling her how good that had felt.
She’d just been kissed like she’d never been kissed before in her life. Her body was tingling, her skin on fire, alive. And her lips were tender from the thorough way his lips had danced over hers.
When Ryan grinned at her she couldn’t help but do the same back.
“Shall we head back to the car?” he asked her.
Jessica nodded. And when he reached for her hand and took it against his big palm, she didn’t resist. His skin was smooth but worn, a testament to the work he did.
Now there was no mistaking it.
This was definitely, without a doubt, one hundred percent a date.
Jessica wondered if it was possible for a heart to beat so hard that it could pump right through a chest cavity.
It didn’t matter what she did, hers was heaving away so madly she could barely concentrate. She only hoped Ryan couldn’t hear it.
He walked around and opened the door. This time when he’d pulled up, she’d sat there in her seat, hadn’t moved. And now he was towering above her.
Jessica gulped and forced herself to step out. She was torn. Part of her wanted another breathtaking, spine-numbing kiss. For Ryan to hold her in his arms and cocoon her, wrap her tight against him and kiss the breath from her over and over again.
But the other part told her to scurry inside her house as fast as she could. To never look back and to forget what had happened. No letting herself hope. Or think about what he’d said in the restaurant. Because no matter how much she liked him or wanted to take things further, his words had echoed in her mind over and over, reminding her of what he’d been through, telling her to be careful.
Reminding her of what he never wanted to go through again.
And it made her feel like she was deceiving him.
“It was great seeing you tonight, Jess.”
Ryan held out his hand and she took it. Tried to ignore the tingle she felt when their skin connected.
He didn’t let go.
“I had a really good time.” Her voice was failing her, going all soft and breathy, but she couldn’t help it.
He twisted her hand gently so their palms fell together and pushed the door shut with his other.
Ryan walked her up the path to her front door, slowly. “Good enough that you don’t want it to end?”
“Yeah,” she admitted. Only she couldn’t ask him in. She wasn’t ready for what it might mean or what he might think it meant.
“Can I call you tomorrow?”
Jessica was relieved he wasn’t going to ask if he could come in. She would have been powerless to say no if he’d given her the option.
“Until tomorrow,” she agreed.
“Well, I guess it’s good night then,” he murmured.
Jessica tried not to wriggle. He still had hold of her hand, was turning her palm over so her wrist was facing up.
“’Night,” she whispered.
Ryan smiled at her, a lazy smile that made her heart start thumping wildly all over again.
He brought his lips down slowly to her wrist, pressed a kiss there, then turned her hand back over. The touch of his lips, soft and pillowy, left an emotional indent on her skin.
It was one of the most intimate touches she’d ever experienced.
Ryan walked a few steps backward while she stood there. Immobile. She looked up at him and for a moment, words refused to form in her throat.
Then he took her breath away. “You know, I think you might just be better in real life than you were on paper,” he said and he laughed as he turned, hand raised up over his head in a wave goodbye.
Jessica laughed until tears sprang into her eyes and she didn’t miss the cheeky grin on his face as he winked before driving off. You are, too, she thought. You are so much better in real life than on paper, and I never could have imagined it.
Tonight had been crazy. Amazing.
But scary too.
Because here she was, standing on her porch, watching the taillights of his car disappear down the road, feeling like she had maybe, just maybe, fallen head over heels in love with a man who wasn’t within her reach.
If they’d met under different circumstances, maybe it would have been different. But she’d promised herself time to heal, to not let anyone else in, and here she was wishing things could be different.
And Ryan didn’t want this, either. He might think he did, but he didn’t. Not if he knew the truth about her.
He had told her what had happened with his wife, she knew how much it had hurt him, the demons it had created that he’d never truly been able to shake. And tonight, he’d made it clear he could never cope with cancer again. Had spoken of it like the hideous disease it was.
But cancer was still as much a part of her life right now as her family was. It wasn’t something she could pretend she’d never had or might never have again in the future. She was in the safe zone now, but it didn’t mean it wouldn’t come back or haunt her again one day. Unlikely, given the fact she’d had an elective double mastectomy, but it still worried her every day.
She knew what losing someone was like—the disease had taken her sister, too. So she couldn’t blame Ryan for how he felt.
So would it be lying if she didn’t tell him? If she just enjoyed his company while he was here, before he was redeployed? Would that make her a bad person, after what he’d told her tonight?
Jessica wiped tears away as they fell, heavy on her cheeks. This time she wasn’t laughing. This time her tears hurt.
She wasn’t going to say no to fun, but what had happened tonight hadn’t just felt like fun.
It had felt like the start of something great.
Jessica heard shuffling then scratching on the other side of the door. It brought the smile back to her face.
“Hey, Herc.”
She unlocked the door and picked her scruffy little boy up, holding him close to her chest. He licked at her face, tu
cked tightly against her body.
“Hey, baby. Come on, let’s go to bed.”
Hercules wriggled to get down and danced down the hall, his tiny feet padding on the carpet. He looked up at her, waiting, happy about tucking up in bed beside her.
“At least I’ll always have you, huh?”
His tongue lolled out, as if he was smiling up at her.
She felt tears well at the back of her eyes again, and she didn’t try to stop them. Life could be so unfair sometimes. Just when you thought you’d been through enough, coped with all you could, something else came along to steal the breath from your lungs and the fight from your soul.
CHAPTER SIX
Dear Jessica,
It’s funny what you’ve done to me. For all this time I’ve avoided coming home, and now that I want to I don’t know how long it’ll be before I can. If you believe I can make things right with my son, then I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. Let’s hope we can sit together and laugh one day, and you can say I told you so.
Hope you’re well and that you’re not sick of writing to me yet. You’ve got no idea how your letters bring a smile to this soldier’s face. I haven’t had a lot to look forward to for a while, and your letters make a world of difference.
Here’s to seeing you soon.
Ryan
“PUSH UP AS hard as you can then hold.”
Ryan felt his mouth twist into a grimace. This was hard. Harder than last time, but then he was making himself work as much as he could physically endure.
The physio pushed down on him, forcing him to exert as much energy, as much power, as possible.
“Okay, and relax,” she instructed.
He let his arm drop. The thud started again, the pain that seemed to shoot through every inch of his skin on that side when he exercised too hard. He’d told her the pain wasn’t bad because he wanted to go as hard as he could.
Maybe that hadn’t been such a great idea.
Ryan wiped away the sweat that had formed on his forehead.
