by Caro Carson
He put his phone away and walked into his apartment, alone.
Never delay happiness. He’d heard that before, but now he felt the urgency.
Never delay happiness—but he couldn’t even try to find happiness with Chloe until June, when they would be a thousand miles apart.
The anger came back and choked him.
* * *
When Chloe got back to her office, Ernesto was waiting.
“Word came from the hospital, ma’am.”
“Who is in the hospital?” she asked calmly. Her gut churned. Had Thane been more than tired? Had she walked out of here and left a critically ill man behind?
“Lieutenant Carter worked an accident scene last night. The LT was first on the scene. Word is that he was the only one on the scene for a while. It happened out on a range road, so it took the ambulance a little extra time to get there. Three victims. Single-car rollover. All of them were ejected from the vehicle.”
Chloe crossed her arms over her chest, but no layers, not arms, not jackets, not shirts, could protect her heart from feeling pain. No wonder Thane had looked so rough.
“How many fatalities?” Times like these, she knew she wasn’t normal. She was able to stand in the face of terrible news and function with a clear mind. Not a normal response, but a necessary one.
“Lieutenant Carter did CPR on one woman. She’s in the ICU, but she’s still alive. One was conscious when they brought her in. She’s going to make it for sure, they say. The third one got thrown the farthest from the wreck. She passed away about half an hour ago. I thought maybe you or the CO would want to stop by Lieutenant Carter’s this evening to update him.”
The flag wouldn’t go down for another six hours. Thane should be sound asleep right now, but she didn’t like the idea of him being alone for the next six hours if he wasn’t.
“I’ll go now. Put me down as LOP on your way through the orderly room, please.”
“You got it, ma’am.”
LOP stood for Lost on Post. It meant that, while somebody was not quite skipping work, it was best not to track whatever they were doing too closely. If the CO wanted to know more, he would ask her. Everyone else would just accept that the LT was out on a task of personal importance.
Thane Carter was of personal importance to her. She just didn’t want to analyze why. It was just true.
* * *
“Come on, Thane. I know you’re not asleep. I saw you sitting on your balcony.”
Thane looked through the peephole. Chloe was standing there in her ACUs, but she didn’t look happy to be there.
He didn’t want her to be there, either. This was not a good time for him to have to pretend that he saw her as just his teammate. Just a friend.
“Shouldn’t you be at work?” he hollered through the door.
“Shouldn’t you be asleep?” she hollered back.
He sighed and opened the door, but he left the chain in place, keeping her out as if she might be dangerous.
She was. Dangerous and terribly beautiful.
She held up a handful of napkin-wrapped circles. “I had to confiscate some cookies before the dining facility opened as part of my fire inspection. Chocolate chip today.”
He stuck his arm through the gap, palm up. “Thanks.”
She held them just out of his reach. “Come on. Invite me in. I’ve never seen your place.” The smile on her face was hopeful.
He’d killed that hopeful smile at the Nutcracker. He probably couldn’t live with himself if he killed it again.
Thane pulled his arm back in, shut the door to take off the chain, then stepped back and let her in. She took off her patrol cap and handed him the cookies. And crumbs. They spilled out of the napkins onto his floor. He brushed some off the plain T-shirt he’d put on after his shower. She walked right past him, looking at his place with blatant curiosity.
“Does it pass inspection?” he asked drily, still standing by the open door.
She turned around, smiling like she was pleased with herself for having gotten past his attempt to keep her out. “I think you could possibly get a larger TV in here, maybe an inch larger, if you really tried. What is it with guys and giant TVs?”
He shut the front door. “Out with it, Chloe. The cookies are nice. What’s really going on?”
She sighed and sat on his couch. “I’ve got news. From the hospital.”
“Go ahead.”
She gave it to him straight, all facts, no speculation, no emotion. Any other way would have driven him crazy.
“At least the lady I worked on is hanging on.”
Since Chloe seemed in no rush to leave, Thane sat down, too—in the recliner. He was not going to cozy up on the couch with Chloe.
“You did well,” she said.
He just looked at her, a real-life friend, sharing his space. It was so unremarkable. It was the reason for living.
“So eat a cookie.” She winked at him, then picked up his remote and flopped back on the couch cushions. She found the on button quickly. “Dang, look at the picture on this thing. It’s like being in a movie theater.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” The cookie tasted like manna. She must have stolen it fresh out of the industrial oven.
“Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping?”
“If you leave, I’ll sleep.”
She used the remote to gesture at the recliner. “If you fall asleep, I’ll leave.”
She started scrolling through one hundred channels, making him smile at her wisecracks about what made each show unwatchable. It was like having Ballerina on audio instead of in writing. Thane pushed his seatback back, letting the recliner do its recliner thing.
And then he woke up. The TV was still on, and when he turned his head, he saw Chloe was still on the couch. She’d taken off her ACU jacket and was lounging back in the plain brown uniform T-shirt, legs still hidden by camouflage, her booted feet resting on his coffee table.
“You didn’t leave.”
“It’s one heck of a TV. Besides, I’ve got to see which of the three houses these yahoos choose—oh! I knew it. Idiots.” She tore her eyes from the screen and looked at him. “Why would you pass on the French château with the mountain view that was in budget? Why? Who does that?”
“Watching TV is pretty stressful for you, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. I’m going to go back to work, where life is easy.” She stood and stretched, arms high over her head as she yawned.
Chloe in a bikini, standing less than an arm’s length away, dropping the towel, moving her chair into the sun. The lust hit Thane hard. Lust for Chloe. Lust for life.
Never delay happiness. But he had four months until June. Four months until he’d be far, far away, trying to capture happiness by asking her to be more than a friend over the phone. Asking her to wait for him, for six months while he took the captain’s course. A company command after that, anywhere the army wanted him to go, perhaps another hardship tour in Korea. Hardship tours meant no family members were stationed with the soldier. He gave the army credit for understanding what a hardship was.
Chloe deserved better.
She was oblivious to his thoughts as she put her ACU jacket back on and zipped it up. Thane stood, too, and moved to the door with her.
“This was fun. We should do it again sometime.” She picked up her patrol cap. “I’ll come over next time Pride and Prejudice is on. Mr. Darcy will be life-size on that screen.”
He couldn’t laugh with her. Her smiles were killing him. She was everything he wanted, and everything he couldn’t have.
“Anytime,” he said, anyway.
“Great. I gained a friend and a TV. Why didn’t we become friends sooner?”
He slipped. He was tired, he was emotional, and as he looked her in the eye, he slipped right into honesty. “Because we both remember that afternoon by the pool, and how much we wanted to date each other. We didn’t think friendship would be enough.”
Damn, he coul
d kill her smiles without even trying.
“You never wanted to date me, Thane. You should be honest about it.” She tossed her patrol cap a few feet in the air, spinning it like a chef with pizza dough. Caught it, tossed it. “It’s not a bad thing. It actually makes it easier to work with you, knowing that I’m not your type. You were just flirting with me...recreationally, shall we say? Trying to see if you could get the single girl to believe your lines.”
He frowned. “I don’t flirt recreationally. I don’t flirt at all.”
“Oh, but you do. And you were very convincing, but I know that’s what you were doing. You said so.”
He stepped closer. “Never. I said it was never a game.”
She snorted in disbelief and spun her cap in the air, keeping the cap between them, giving herself something to look at instead of him. “You’re talking about when we met in the parking lot for our ride-along.”
“Yes. I said it was never a game then. I’m telling you the same thing now.” He snatched her cap out of the air and leaned in close, so close he could feel the air move when she sucked in a breath. “Chloe Michaels, it was never a game.”
“I’m talking about earlier than that. I heard you at the pool. You told a friend that you were just taking what you could get, because there wasn’t any other single girl to talk to.”
“You are nobody’s idea of taking what they can get.”
“I was in the bathroom, Thane. I could hear you with your friend. ‘Did you see her face? Believe me, if you’d seen her face...’ Sound familiar?”
The entire, desperate conversation with Gevahr came back to him in a single burst. He knew exactly what she was talking about.
“My God, Chloe. You heard that?” He shook his head as he looked at her and remembered those critical minutes when he’d been trying not to get them caught. “I can’t believe you ever spoke to me again.”
“I wouldn’t have. The army didn’t give me a choice, did it?” She smiled, a sort of smart-aleck grin, all bravado. “Don’t worry. I didn’t get a complex over it. I know my face isn’t hideous.”
“Not even close. You’re beautiful.”
“Stop. Seriously. I’m just not your style, and I’m cool with that.”
“You are exactly my style. Chloe, I was talking to Gevahr.”
He knew when that sank in; her smile faded away.
“It was Sergeant Gevahr, and I’d just figured out you were going to be his platoon leader like five minutes earlier. He said he’d been watching us together, and I was so damned afraid I’d just blown your reputation—but you’d had your back to the pool most of the time. He hadn’t seen your face. I made him leave before he could.”
Her face. He was looking at her beautiful face now, her lips parted, her eyes wide, her attention riveted on him. He’d come closer to her with each word, until she was nearly backed against his wall. They stared at each other, emotions running high. Hot. God, he could kiss her.
He could not.
“I saw you walk away.” She glanced upward, replaying the scene in her mind. “You had your towel over your shoulder, and...oh. It was Gevahr, wasn’t it?”
He stepped back, because he had to step back. Her cap was crushed in his fist. He wanted to speak, but his throat felt tight, so he nodded.
She took in a shivery breath and dropped her gaze. “You should have told me.”
“I didn’t know you’d overheard anything.”
“You should have told me,” she whispered.
He had to touch her. Her cap was in his fist, but with his other hand he reached toward the curve of her cheek—
He forced himself to stop. Touching her face was too intimate. It was a line that couldn’t be uncrossed. He touched her lapel instead, straightening it, his fingers touching fire-retardant industrial cloth instead of Chloe’s skin.
“I’ll tell you now. The truth was, you looked beautiful. Your smile slayed me. When I said I wanted to take you to dinner and a movie, I meant I wanted to spend every free moment I possibly could with you that day and the next day and the next, as far as I could see into the future.”
She stayed perfectly still, eyes downcast.
He dropped his hand to his side. “But then I realized we were both MPs.”
She burst into motion. She snatched her cap out of his fist and sidestepped him, turning on him so he was the one against the wall. “You walked out on me. Whether you had a good reason with Gevahr or not, you should have doubled back to the party to explain why you’d just walked out on me. I would have understood all the implications if you’d said you were in the 584th. I might even have thanked you for distracting Sergeant Gevahr. But you didn’t. You left me there, and I had no idea why. It was—it was—”
“Heartbreaking,” Thane said. That was how he’d felt.
“It was humiliating. There is no excuse for that.”
He couldn’t defend himself. She was right.
She was also waiting for him to say something. “At the time, I told myself there might be more MPs there, so I shouldn’t go back. Another MP had already walked by the fence before I talked to Gevahr. But the truth was—”
The truth was, he’d gone back into his safe world with Ballerina, to try to squash his feelings for Chloe before Monday.
“The truth was, I knew we’d be meeting again on Monday. I tried to convince myself that would be enough time for both of us to shrug it off and move on. It wouldn’t have been. Then you rode along on Sunday instead.” After Drummer had advised her to choose a confrontation instead of a conversation. He shook his head at the memory. At himself. “I botched everything up, Chloe. I’m sorry.”
“Well.” She pulled herself together as he watched. She simply took in a deep breath and stood up straighter. By the time she breathed out, she was Michaels. Chin up. Gaze direct. Cool and calm. “This has been a very interesting lunch hour. Or three hours. I’m going back to the office. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She reached for the doorknob. He placed his palm on the door to stop her. “I don’t want to go back to being Carter and Michaels.”
“Are you about to say, ‘Can’t we still be friends?’ That’s a breakup line, Thane. You can’t use it. We never dated.”
She was still hurt. He’d caused this woman too much pain, and yet she’d come here today with cookies and her company when he’d needed her most. Tonight, she would spend all night talking to him on their app if he needed her company, even though Drummer had caused her pain, as well. There had to be a limit to how much pain she was willing to take.
“No, we never dated. I was devastated at that pool party when I realized that this—” He looked at her flushed face, her angry eyes, her ballerina hair and her military uniform. God, how he loved her. “When I realized that this wasn’t meant to be. I handled it badly. I’m sorry. I will always be sorry. And yes, I’m asking you to be my friend, anyway.”
The sound of her angry, shallow breaths was worse than anything she could have said.
“I know it’s asking a lot,” he said. “I know you had to forgive your other friend, too, after the ballet. Maybe we can only be expected to tolerate a certain amount of offenses against us, and you’ve hit your limit. But, Chloe...”
He looked into her face with real regret. “But, Chloe, if you could only forgive one man, then I’m jealous that it was him.”
She stopped breathing. “You and I are in the army, Thane.” It came out as a whisper. “At least with him, there’s a chance... But you and I? We could only be friends.”
“That’s a lot. That’s more than I deserve. Can we make this the start of a beautiful friendship?”
Chloe bit her lip at his Casablanca quote, but after a long moment, she opened the door, and he watched her walk away.
She hadn’t said yes.
Chapter Twenty
Dear Drummer,
I think we should meet.
Chloe hit Send. She refused to watch that blinking cursor, so she went into the kitchen a
nd poured herself a glass of wine. Then she came back to her living room to peek through her vertical blinds. Thane’s balcony was empty. The coast was clear.
She went outside to her little patio set and arranged her laptop and her wine on the table.
Why? Drummer asked.
Chloe’s heart sank. Why would you ask why? You don’t want to meet me any longer?
I do. I’m just wondering why you changed your mind.
She picked up her wine and sat back, trying to imagine what a confident, fun woman would give as her reason. She ignored Thane’s balcony so deliberately that, of course, she noticed the second his glass door slid open and he stepped out, concentrating on the phone in his hand.
The thought came to her as an old reflex: handsome man; hates me.
Except he didn’t.
Her heart tripped in her chest as she watched him—okay, as she devoured him with her eyes. He was still wearing that snug T-shirt, those loose track pants that had fallen so nicely over his perfect, muscular backside. She wondered if his feet were still bare. She wondered if he’d gone back to sleep after she’d left. Wouldn’t it be something if he’d chosen to sleep on the couch because the pillows had kept her shape or her smell?
A silly fantasy. But when he’d said he wanted to be friends, he’d also said she was beautiful.
He lifted his hand and waved at her.
She set her wine down a little too abruptly and gave him a quick wave back, then she bent studiously over her laptop, like it held all the answers to the universe.
Perhaps it did.
Why? I want to meet you because I need a hug now and then. I’d like to hear you laugh when I laugh. I’d like to crash on a couch and do nothing with you.
She ran her fingers over the pink and blue words, a friendly blend, a comforting pattern. She said out loud what she could not write: “I want to meet you because you are the only man who could possibly save my heart from Thane Carter.”
I don’t know if I can, Baby. I’ll get back to you on that.
“Oh.” Her breath hitched on her disappointment. She looked in Thane’s direction. He was looking in hers.
She wasn’t going to cry in front of him. She picked up her laptop and her wine, and went back inside.
