Operation Get Her Back

by Claire Kingsley

  “Here, you get this end,” Ryan says.

  I pick up the other side of the bench—fuck, why did she have to pick the heaviest one here?—and almost drop it.

  Gabriel isn’t alone.

  I see her from the back, and instantly I know it’s her. I don’t even have to see her face. Her hair is up in a ponytail, long strands of blond hair hanging down to her shoulders. She’s wearing a purple tank top and a pair of shorts, and her body is everything I remember: narrow waist, toned arms, strong legs.

  She turns, and my heart nearly beats out of my chest. Ten years, and she’s hardly changed. She’s still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.

  “Dude, Hunter,” Ryan says.

  I adjust my grip on the bench. “Sorry.”

  I look for her again, but she’s not there. Shit. I can’t keep standing in one place, staring, holding this stupid bench. So I walk out toward my truck, holding up my end. Ryan and I move it across the grass to the parking lot and get it in the back, where I secure it with a strap so it won’t slide around, then close the tailgate.

  “You got this?” Ryan asks. “Your leg okay?”

  I’m so distracted, looking toward the market, I almost don’t hear him. “Yeah, I got it. I’m fine. Dad can help me unload it when I get to their place.”

  “Okay, sounds good,” he says. “I’m going to go track down Nicole.”

  I nod, but I’m barely listening. Was it really her?

  I have to find out.

  Feeling like I should be armed and wearing body armor, I slip back into the crowded market. More people are pouring in from the parking area. I find a spot where no one will walk behind me—I have issues with people being behind me if I’m standing in one place—and narrow my eyes, trying to spot her. Or her brother.

  My eyes comb the crowd, moving quickly from face to face. She could be anywhere, or she could have left already. There’s a steady stream of people walking up and down the walkway between the booths.

  I’m just about to give up and take the bench to my mom’s house when I catch sight of her. She’s farther down the line of canopies, smelling a bouquet of flowers. I take an involuntary step closer. My heart thunders in my chest. It’s been so long.

  Fuck, she’s so beautiful it’s insane. Delicate chin, sweet little turned-up nose. She smiles at the vendor.

  Damn it. Why did I ever leave her? People say eighteen-year-old boys are idiots, but in my case that’s the understatement of the century. Did I really leave that behind? There’s something different about her now. Her hips are a little curvier, her breasts a little fuller. When I left, she was still a girl.

  She’s a woman now.

  My dick twitches to life and my heart starts racing. Her face lifts, and I turn away in a panic. A jolt of adrenaline courses through me and my back clenches.

  The crowd is too close. There’s a burning sensation in my chest and I can’t quite catch my breath. Fuck. I definitely have to get out of here.

  I walk back to the edge of the market, forcing myself to take careful steps. I want to sprint, but I know my leg won’t let me; trying to run hurts, and pain will only make my panic worse. I can usually handle crowds, but seeing Emma sent such a huge spike of adrenaline through my system that I’m dangerously close to having an attack. My rational brain knows I’m not in danger, but my primal brain doesn’t listen. My body reacts differently now.

  I get in my truck and take a deep breath. I’m home. I’m not in danger. It’s okay that I’m not armed.

  My hands grip the steering wheel and I slow my breathing. In and out, repeating my mantras. I’m home. I’m not in danger. I’m home. I’m not in danger.

  I’m home.

  By the time I reach my parent’s place, my heart rate is normal and I’m pretty sure I’ll be able to talk without rousing suspicion. My mom is a worrier, and I don’t want to give her more reasons to be concerned about me. I drop off the bench, helping Dad place it on the back porch where Mom wants it. They ask if I’d like to stay, but I let them know I have somewhere to be.

  I have a date.

  I drive the forty-five minutes out to Sequoia Ridge. I go most Saturdays, as long as work doesn’t interfere. The curtain parts at the front window as soon as I pull up to the house, and I can’t help but smile.

  Before I even get out of my truck, Isaac runs out the front door. His brown hair flops around on top of his head and his face lights up with a smile. His Spiderman t-shirt has a red stain near the collar, but somehow being dirty just makes the kid look cuter.

  “Uncle Hunter!”

  I crouch down and he runs into my arms. I wrap him in a big hug, feeling his little arms coil around my neck.

  “Hi, buddy,” I say.

  He squeezes me tighter. I stand up, still holding on to him, and carry him inside.

  Isaac is five, and although he calls me Uncle Hunter, we aren’t related. For a guy like me, family titles have almost nothing to do with blood, so I’m proud to be his uncle.

  I hug him again and set him down. “Where’s Grandma?”

  “Upstairs,” he says. “She’ll be down in a minute. Do I get to come to your house?”

  “I’m sorry, bud, I can’t take you home with me this time.” My chest clenches at the disappointment in his face. “Maybe next time, okay?”

  Elaine’s voice breaks in. “I thought I heard you come in.”

  I look up and see her coming down the stairs. She’s walking slow, holding onto the railing. I was hoping she’d look better than the last time I saw her, but she doesn’t. If anything, she looks worse.

  “Hi, Elaine,” I say. “How are you feeling?”

  She gets to the bottom of the stairs and waves a hand. “Oh, I’m doing just fine.”

  I know she’s lying, but she doesn’t want to say anything in front of Isaac. I’m not even sure if I know about all Elaine’s ailments. The ones she’s admitted to are bad enough: arthritis, a clotting disorder that makes bleeding dangerous, and something that gives her poor immune system function. She gets sick a lot.

  Elaine’s son, Major Anthony Lynch, was one of my closest friends in the Corps. His girlfriend, Mary, died when Isaac was born, and Elaine took care of Isaac during Anthony’s deployments. Unfortunately, when Anthony and I were overseas, he drove over an IED. He didn’t come home.

  “Uncle Hunter, look,” Isaac says, holding up a Spiderman action figure.

  “Wow, buddy, look at that,” I say. “Is that new?”

  “Yeah, Grandma got it for me.”

  “That’s awesome. Spiderman is your thing now, huh?”

  “Yeah,” he says. “He shoots webs.”

  “He sure does,” I say. “So, what do you want to do today?”

  “I want to go to the park, and get ice cream, and play, and watch a movie, and—”

  “Okay, okay, I get it,” I say with a laugh. “We probably don’t have time for all that, but I think we can start with the park and go from there.”

  “Go get your shoes on,” Elaine says.

  Isaac bounds up the stairs, sounding like a herd of elephants instead of a fifty-pound little boy.

  I lower my voice. “How are you, really?”

  Elaine sighs. “It could be worse. My doctor has me on new medication and it seems to be helping.”

  “Good,” I say. I pull a check, already made out and signed, out of my pocket and press it into her hand.

  “Hunter, you don’t have to do this,” Elaine says.

  “I know,” I say. “It isn’t about have to.”

  “I always use it for Isaac,” she says.

  “Use it for whatever you need,” I say. “And if you ever need anything else, I want you to call me, okay?”

  Elaine presses her lips together and nods.

  Isaac runs down the stairs, making more noise than he did on the way up. “Let’s go,” he says.

  I brush the hair off his forehead. “You need a haircut. Maybe we’ll do that too.” I look up at Elaine.
“I’ll have him home in time for bed.”

  “You two boys have a good time,” she says.

  “We will,” Isaac says, already halfway out the door.

  I watch Isaac skip down the path to my truck, his hair flying with each bounce. I made a promise to his father that if anything ever happened to him, I’d look out for his son. As soon as I got home, I got in touch with Elaine. As someone who lost both my parents, I felt terrible for the poor kid. I knew he’d need a man in his life, and Elaine lives close enough that I can drive to see them, so I make it a point to do so as often as possible.

  At first Isaac wasn’t too sure about me. He wanted his daddy, and I certainly couldn’t blame him. But after a couple months, he warmed up to me; now he and I are good buddies. I look forward to my visits with him. I wish I could do more.

  Elaine waves at me from her front porch. I’m worried about her ability to continue to care for Isaac. She’s nearing seventy, and her health has been declining pretty rapidly since I’ve known them. Her husband died a few years ago, and I know she struggles to take care of her grandson. I’m worried about what’s going to happen to Isaac if Elaine can’t keep him. He doesn’t have anyone else.

  He’s so much like me.

  I spend the afternoon with Isaac. We hang out at a local playground, and I take him to get a haircut. Afterward, we get ice cream—and I realize too late that I probably should have fed him dinner first. I get him some fast food before taking him home, making sure we’re back in time so he can take a bath. He’s pretty filthy. That tends to happen when I’m with him. He’s a rough and tumble kid with a lot of energy, so I do my best to wear him out.

  Of course, I’m the one worn out by the end of our visits.

  After his bath, he comes down in a fresh pair of Spiderman pajamas. I take him upstairs, tuck him in, and kiss him on the head.

  Elaine is sitting on the couch when I leave. I make sure she doesn’t get up. I say goodbye, and head home. I’m dead tired, but I feel content on the drive. Spending time with Isaac is always good for me.

  I roll down the window for the fresh air, and my thoughts drift back to Emma. I kept her on the outskirts of my mind all afternoon, but now that I’m alone, I can’t stop thinking about her.

  My reaction to seeing her was so intense. I’ve wondered for years what it would be like to see her again, but I wasn’t prepared for such a surge. It isn’t just her beauty—although she’s every bit as gorgeous as I remember. She opened up a place inside that I buried years ago. A place I didn’t think was accessible anymore.

  Maybe I should have called her after I came home last year, at least to explain. I owe her that much. Hell, I owe her more than I could ever give, and that’s part of what’s kept me away. I didn’t want to intrude on her life, but I also know I betrayed her in a way she might never be able to forgive. And if she couldn’t, it would be devastating all over again.

  But now that I’ve seen her, I know.

  I have to talk to her. Even if it fails miserably, I have to take that chance.

  I can’t stay away from her.

  5

  Hunter

  Knowing I want to see Emma, and actually making it happen, are two different things.

  Sunday morning, I walk out on my back porch with a cup of coffee. I’m not sure what I’ll say to her when I do see her, but the first step is finding her. I need to make contact. The problem is, I’m not sure how.

  I go back inside, grab a spiral notebook, and sit down. My instincts take over, and I make a list of my assets, as if Emma is a mission.

  Truck, for transportation.

  Internet, for research.

  Visual sighting in town.

  I tap the ball point pen against the coffee table. That’s not much to work with. In fact, it’s essentially nothing, because I don’t know where she lives or how to contact her. She was with Gabriel, so that’s something. I know where he works, but that doesn’t do me a whole lot of good. It isn’t like I can show up at his restaurant and ask about her. He doesn’t know who the fuck I am—which, to be fair, is a point in my favor.

  Nevertheless, I don’t think me approaching Gabriel is a good plan, but I do know someone who knows him. Clover works for him. Maybe she’ll know something about Emma, like whether she’s staying with her brother or just in town for a visit.

  I text Clover to see if she’s around. She says she has to head into work in a couple of hours, but she can meet me for coffee.

  I pull up to Old Town Cafe. It’s busy inside, a long line of people stretching back from the counter. That’s Jetty Beach during the summer for you, particularly when the sun comes out. Clover isn’t here yet, so I order coffee for both of us and find a small table near the back.

  Clover comes in, beaming that huge smile at me. Despite how anxious I’m feeling, I can’t help but smile back. It’s hard not to. Clover is the happiest person on the planet. It’s pretty infectious.

  “Hey, almost-brother,” she says. She scrunches up her shoulders and her blond curls bounce around her face. “I love calling you that.”

  “Whatever makes you happy, weirdo,” I say with a wink. I actually like it when she calls me that, too.

  “So, what’s up?” she asks. “Cody was trying so hard to play it cool, like he’s not insanely curious why you need to talk to me, but I made him stay home.”

  “Thanks for that,” I say. “I don’t know if I want to talk to him about this right now.”

  “I know,” she says, with a solemn nod of her head. “I could tell.”

  “From my text?” I ask, drawing my eyebrows together.

  “I’m very perceptive,” she says. “What’s going on? Is this about Emma?”

  I take a deep breath. “Yes, it’s about Emma.”

  “Thought so,” she says. “Ever since your mom mentioned her at dinner the other night, I’ve been wondering when I’d hear this story. Cody wouldn’t tell me, other than you guys dated a long time ago.”

  “There’s not much to tell,” I say. Or rather, there’s not much I’m going to tell Clover. She doesn’t need all the gory details. “Emma and I were together in high school. After graduation, I left to join the Marines. I don’t really want to get into why, but I was gone a long time, and she moved on. Except, as my mom blurted out at dinner, she’s apparently divorced. I was okay with that. But then I saw her yesterday.”

  Clover tilts her head and clasps her hands together. “Aw, that is so sweet. Was she happy to see you?”

  “No, she didn’t see me,” I say. “I saw her at the market. But I left before I had a chance to talk to her.”

  “And then what?” she asks, leaning forward.

  “No, that’s all,” I say. “I saw her and I want to talk to her. But I don’t know where she lives, or how to get hold of her.”

  “You’re such a guy,” she says.

  “What was I supposed to do?” I ask. “I haven’t seen her in a decade, and honestly, I don’t think she’s going to want to see me.”

  “So what do you need me for?”

  “Like I said, I don’t know where she lives or how to get in touch,” I say. “But you know someone who does.”

  “I do?”

  “She’s Gabriel Parker’s sister.”

  “Gabriel?” Clover says, her voice a little squeal. “No way. Your ex-girlfriend is my boss’s sister? How is that even possible?”

  “It’s a small town,” I say with a shrug.

  “Okay, so what do you want me to do?” She looks way too excited about this.

  “Honestly, I’m not sure,” I say. “Has Gabriel said anything about his sister being in town?”

  She shakes her head. “No, but we don’t talk about anything other than work. He’s not very chatty when it comes to his life outside the kitchen. I didn’t even know he had a sister.”

  I sit back in my seat. Shit. This isn’t helping, and now that Clover knows, it’s only a matter of time before Cody does. Word is going to get back to my mom,
and then I’m in trouble. My mom is not known for keeping out of things, whether or not they’re her business.

  “That sucks,” I say. “I could probably find out where Gabriel lives, but that’s treading into creepy stalker territory.”

  Clover’s eyes go wide and she smiles, her white teeth practically gleaming. “That’s totally what we should do.”

  “What?”

  “Be creepy stalkers!”

  Oh, shit. “What are you talking about?”

  “Come on, you were in the military and stuff. You must know how to do this kind of thing, right? Except we’re not finding bad guys, we’re finding the love of your life.”

  “Okay, slow down there, slick,” I say. “First of all, I don’t think stalking my ex-girlfriend is a great way to start an apology. And second, I never said she was the love of my life.”

  “Whatever, she totally is,” she says with a wave of her hand. “What kind of cool equipment do you have? Do you have night vision goggles? Oh my god, I’ve always wanted to use night vision goggles. Can I try them?”

  My mouth opens, but I just stare at her. I actually do have night vision goggles, but I probably shouldn’t tell her that. “I don’t think we need night vision goggles.”

  “Fine.” She takes a sip of coffee and scrunches up her face, looking up at the ceiling like she’s thinking really hard.

  I’m starting to wonder if telling Clover was a good idea.

  “I know what to do,” she blurts out. “Okay, my job will be to find out what I can about Emma, and find out where Gabriel lives. I’m pretty sure I can get into his office at work and find something we can work with.”

  “Clover, no,” I say. “Do not break into your boss’s office.”

  “Why?” she asks. “He won’t know. I’ll be like a ninja.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “You are not like a ninja.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” she says, getting up. “I’ll do my part and report back at oh-eight-hundred-hours.”

  I start laughing and almost choke. “Are you serious?”