“No shit.” Geo stood frozen, still gaping at him. For Matt to have kept on driving while the man he loved was bleeding to death a few feet away...
At last Geo held his knuckles out for a bump. “Goddamn, son. Respect.”
Matt’s eyes held a tinge of relief even as he grinned. “Thanks.”
They resumed walking, feet scuffing along the pavement. After a moment, Matt said, “My uncle went to Cade’s funeral. There, uh, weren’t a lot of people there, I guess.”
Including Geo. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to go, the anger and guilt flooding him too strong. Besides, how could he face Renae?
“He was a good man, Matt. The best. I—” Geo couldn’t go on, and luckily, Matt didn’t push, just gripped his shoulder and, with a gentle tug, turned Geo toward his truck.
“C’mon. Let’s get you home.”
About to protest that he could drive himself, a sudden wooziness swept over him, a product of both too much beer and emotion. Still, he rasped, “Nah, I can get an Uber...”
“No way. We’re swim buddies, right?”
Geo couldn’t help but smile at that. The swim buddy ethos had been drilled into them from day one at BUD/S, sometimes painfully, and it wasn’t anything a SEAL ever took lightly.
“Right,” he whispered. “Thanks, brother.”
It was a short drive to the barracks, and when Matt pulled up to the curb, he said, “I’ll give you a ride back to get your bike first thing in the morning, if you want.”
“Oh, God, no. I’ll get an Uber for that.” Geo got out of the truck and leaned his forearms on top of the window frame to look inside. “Sleep late with your man.”
At those words, Matt’s cheeks took on an attractive flush, his eyes sparkling. “Well, I definitely won’t argue with you about that. I haven’t seen him in a month.”
Geo winked. “Enjoy. Talk to you later.” He stood back, swaying just the slightest bit on his feet, as Matt put the truck into gear and drove away with a jaunty wave. He watched until the taillights disappeared around the corner. Wow. Shane was a lucky guy.
Wearily, he made his way up the walk toward his room, envying their upcoming reunion, the fact that Matt would soon be sleeping in the arms of someone who loved him. What was it like for them as a couple, being fully out in the teams? Even a few short years ago, it wouldn’t have been possible, DADT or no. They wouldn’t have been accepted; the reaction of the older team guys in the bar was proof of that.
Now, at least, the younger men moving into leadership positions were bringing with them their increasingly progressive views, slowly but surely replacing the old guard. The fact that the military as a whole was a largely conservative organization meant there was still a long way to go, but for the most part, he was finding the shift in attitudes encouraging.
Too bad it didn’t extend to mental health.
He flopped fully clothed onto the bed, his thoughts churning as he replayed the altercation at the bar.
“We’ve all been through it. Every single one of us has demons we wrestle with.”
It was true. He’d seen some gruesome shit during his career, heartbreaking stuff that sometimes flashed in his mind’s eye with the clarity of a CGI movie: Fighters blown inside out by U.S. planes’ powerful bombs, their body fat still sizzling from the white phosphorus. Women and children used as human shields or caught in the crossfire. Dead friends.
So many dead friends.
But grieving was a luxury no one could afford. They all learned pretty quickly to stuff it away, to move on. There were things Geo’d seen, and done, that he’d locked away so tightly, if he had his way they’d never again see the light of day.
“I don’t want to compartmentalize so much that I stop caring,” Matt had said.
“Well, you’re gonna have to,” Geo whispered to the empty room. “You’ll have to.”
Because theirs wasn’t a sports team, where a player had the luxury of riding out a slump, of being able to take the time to get some extra help from the coaches and get back on track. Here, if someone couldn’t keep up or got emotional and lost their edge, they were gone.
Even in the SEAL teams—especially in the SEAL teams—no one was irreplaceable. In their world, asking for help meant being seen as weak, cowardly, a breakdown of the mental toughness SEALs were legendary for. It meant possibly losing the confidence of teammates, of brothers, the very way of life they’d all fought so hard to be a part of.
And that was a risk almost no one was willing to take.
With an unhappy sigh, Geo struggled back to his feet and grabbed his phone, which he hadn’t checked all day. As the various notifications popped up, one in particular caught his eye. A text from Lani.
Catching his breath in anticipation, he opened it up.
Hey! Tonight I saw one of the prettiest sunsets I’ve ever seen in my life, so have a pic of the beach, and also a “beetch” who’s very glad to have met you. Not gonna lie, I’ve been pretty lonely, and talking to you is a real bright spot in my life these days. Now I’m off to make myself a delicious dinner, and nope, I won’t exercise after. So there.
When he clicked on the first attachment, Geo’s breath caught.
The Pacific Ocean shimmered in the fading sunlight, the blue-gray waves a white froth as they crashed down onto the shore. The brilliant purple-and-pink sky scudded with clouds, and he could just smell the breeze that’d carry the faint scent of brine to his nose.
“Ah, thank you, Lani,” he whispered. “I really needed that.”
He opened the other picture. Soft brown eyes gazed out at him, the waning San Diego sun highlighting a smattering of freckles that danced across a pert nose and along softly rounded cheeks. Lani was smiling, the light sheen of gloss on her lips emphasizing their shapely fullness.
Thick black hair shone, teased into a halo about her head by the sea breeze. A few strands clung to her lips, and Geo reached out a finger as if to brush them away. Instead of lush, pliable skin, the impersonal coldness of his phone screen greeted his touch, and he settled for tracing the shape of her mouth once, twice, a quiver starting low in his belly that made his heart thud painfully in his ears.
Dropping his hand, he ran greedy eyes along bare shoulders, the hint of cleavage swelling over the scooped neckline of her tank top. A small heart-shaped pendant drew his attention to the hollow of her throat, and the thought of pressing his lips to that enticing hollow swelled his cock to a painful hardness. He gulped, suddenly disgusted with himself. She was his pregnant friend, not a potential fuck buddy.
He had plenty of those in his life, more than he’d ever need.
Friends, though, were in short supply, especially ones outside the community who understood the demands of his job, who wouldn’t expect more of him than he could reasonably give. Someone who enjoyed his friendship almost as much as he did hers.
Who knew what it was like to lose someone in an instant, in a way almost too painful to bear.
Geo sucked in a ragged breath, forcing back the toxic brew of anger, of guilt, of shame, that’d been his constant companion since the night Cade Barlow—his mentor, his friend—had lined up his personal effects on a shelf above his rack, stuck a Post-it note on his computer with his password written on it, then put a Sig Sauer nine-millimeter pistol into his mouth and pulled the trigger.
“What was that? Did one of you assholes have an accidental discharge?”
The crunch of booted feet, the shouting, as everyone in the platoon rushed through the hooch, looking for the source of the unmistakable sound.
Geo had flung open the door to Cade’s room. “Dude, did you hear that?”
The smell of cordite had almost knocked him down. Before the roaring in his ears took over, a steady drip-drip-drip had registered, the sight of a wall splattered with...
His heart galloping, Geo fought the memories as
Lani gazed steadily back at him, the gold flecks in her eyes giving them a warmth, a depth, that seemed to flow through the screen straight into his soul. He didn’t look away from her, but clung to her, until the anguish crested, receded, then mercifully flowed away, leaving him limp and drained.
Clearing his throat, he clicked Reply with a shaking finger and typed, Thanks for the pics, pretty girl, and enjoy your dinner. See you soon.
Chapter Nine
“I’m coming!”
Lani could hear the irritation in her own voice, but she didn’t care. Whoever was knocking so insistently on her door was about to get a piece of her mind.
“I don’t need any—” she snapped as she jerked open the door, only to stop short. Instead of the salesperson she’d been expecting, a woman stood on the stoop, a woman who was girl-next-door beautiful, with fair skin and silky brown hair gleaming with blond highlights. Her workout leggings and layered tank tops emphasized a taut, athletic body, and oversized sunglasses perched on the top of her head.
Lani’s stomach dropped to her toes, and her heart started to pound in abject fear.
“Hi,” the woman said. “I’m—”
“I know who you are, Devon,” Lani snapped. “Did something happen to Rhys?”
“What?” Her eyes widening, Devon took a step forward. “Oh, shit, no. Rhys is fine. I just talked to him. He’s perfectly fine, I promise.”
Her knees going weak in relief, Lani slumped against the doorjamb. “Thank God.”
Because she couldn’t take another loss.
“I’m so sorry.” Devon’s voice throbbed with remorse, her eyes shining with it. “I should’ve realized that’s where your mind would go first.”
“Yeah.” Still trembling from residual fright, Lani blew out a shaky breath. “What’re you doing here?”
“Well, other than scaring the shit out of you, I, uh, wanted to invite you to lunch.” Devon gave her a tentative smile. “My treat.”
Lani blinked. “Huh?”
“Lunch.” Devon’s smile wavered a bit. “I thought maybe we could have lunch today, get to know each other.”
Her shock made Lani’s tone sharper than she intended. “Why would we do that?”
Hearing it, Devon bit her lip. “Well, it’s, uh—”
“It’s what? Did Rhys put you up to this?” Raking one hand through her hair, Lani growled, “I swear to Christ, I’m gonna kick that man’s ass. I’m fine. It’s not his job to worry about me anymore.”
“He still will, though.”
The rueful tone gave Lani pause. “Well, Rhys and I are through. He only texts me once in a while to ask how I’m doing. We don’t talk, or see each other. You don’t have anything to worry about.”
“I know that.” Heaving a sigh, Devon said, “Okay, listen, here’s the thing. You said it’s not his job to worry about you, but he still will.”
“Well, if that’s true, he can stop.”
“I don’t think he can. And I don’t want him to.”
Lani rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right.”
“I don’t,” Devon said confidently. “A part of him still loves you, and his love for you, what you went through together, makes up a lot of who he is. He can’t just turn that off, and maybe it sounds crazy, but no, I don’t want him to. I don’t want him to lose that piece of himself.”
“Okay, I get it.” Lani crossed her arms over her chest with a cynical chuckle. “What’s that old saying? ‘Keep your friends close but your enemies closer’? Is that what we’re doing here?”
“See, that’s exactly what I mean,” Devon exclaimed. “Where is it written that two women automatically have to be enemies because of a man? Where’s the rule that says we can’t be friends? Ex or no, I’d still like to be your friend.”
“Why? For Rhys’s sake?”
“And mine. And yours. Women should empower each other, not be in competition to tear each other down. Sometimes we’re all we’ve got, right?” A spasm of pain crossed Devon’s face before she smoothed it out. “I’d really like to get to know you. We don’t have to be rivals.”
Studying her, Lani thought she seemed sincere, and maybe her motives were pure. Besides, she knew Rhys, and he wouldn’t fall in love with a jealous, vindictive bitch, no way, not when he himself was kindness personified. And Devon had done some sort of advocacy work with women in Afghanistan, hadn’t she?
God, the two of them were so perfect for each other. Both caretakers and healers, with all their shit together...
Totally unlike her, the one everyone thought still needed rescuing. That old crippling sense of inadequacy swept over Lani once more, and she heard herself blurt, “No, thanks. I’m fine. I have an appointment today anyway.”
Devon’s encouraging smile died. “Fair enough. I don’t think I could’ve bungled this any more if I tried.” She proffered a folded-up piece of paper. “Will you take my number? If you need anything at all, if you change your mind, please call me. I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry.”
Numbly, Lani took the paper from her hand, her stomach churning. Devon turned and jogged lightly down the stairs toward a red compact parked at the curb, and once inside, she dropped her forehead to the steering wheel for several long moments before starting the engine and driving away.
Lani watched her taillights disappear off into the distance, then looked at the note crumpled between her fingers.
“Lady, I’m never going to call you,” she muttered under her breath, but something made her stuff the paper in her pocket instead of tearing it into a thousand pieces like she wanted to. Back inside her apartment, she flopped into her chair at the table with a groan. She pulled her journal to her and flipped to a new page, where she scrawled the date across the top, then wrote:
Well, I met Devon today, and ugh, I was a total bitch to her. A part of me feels like I should apologize, but a bigger part of me doesn’t give a shit. She actually thought we could be friends. That’s impossible, isn’t it?
* * *
“Isn’t it?” she said aloud to the empty room. “It’d be weird, right?”
“Why? It’s not like you want Rhys back,” a little voice inside her head whispered. “Be honest. You were a bitch to her partly because you were shocked and surprised, and partly because she showed up looking all thin and cute.”
God, was she really that petty?
Not wanting to think too closely about the answer to that, Lani picked up her pen again.
There’s nothing wrong with not wanting to be friends with an ex’s new girlfriend. It’s not petty. Maybe it’s just self-preservation.
* * *
With a sigh, she closed her journal and tossed her pen down. She grabbed her purse and keys, then headed for her car. As she drove, she thought about how earnest Devon seemed, how her face had crumpled when Lani kicked her out.
Had she really cared that much? Or was she just going to call Rhys and tell him, oh well, she’d tried?
Hot, tired and crabby, she thrust Devon from her mind and concentrated on finding a parking spot at the busy medical complex. She made her way into her OB’s office, where she signed in and wedged herself into a chair next to a couple who were whispering and giggling together.
“She’s moving so much today. Feel it?” The woman grabbed the man’s hand and placed it low on her bulging belly.
He gasped. “I feel it!” Bending over, he put his lips near his fingers and crooned, “Hi, baby girl. Mommy and Daddy are so ready to meet you.”
The woman stroked his hair, her eyes glowing with tenderness, and Lani glanced away, her own eyes stinging. The loneliness burning its way through her was a physical ache, this oh-so-painful reminder that the world largely moved by twos.
She looked around the busy waiting room, hoping, praying, to see someone else sitting alone, but she was the only one. What would she do when her
time came? A picture formed, of a solitary Uber ride to the hospital in the dead of night. She’d be dropped at the curb, alone, in labor. Who would comfort her, and ease her fears, and celebrate with her when her baby was finally placed in her arms? Who would drive her home, for fuck’s sake?
The memory of Devon’s hopeful smile swam before her eyes, and suddenly, Lani couldn’t help but put herself in her shoes. It had to have been hard, admitting to Lani that Rhys still cared for her. How much courage had it taken for her to show up at Lani’s door and make herself vulnerable like that, not sure of her reception? What would she have done if Lani’d actually accepted her invitation?
“Well, I think we’re about to find out.”
Determination stiffening her spine, Lani fished the phone number from her pocket, and before she could change her mind, she texted, I’m sorry. Lunch sounds good. When?
An almost immediate reply popped up. Yay! How about Friday, my house? That way we can sit and talk as long as we want, no pressure.
Lani hesitated. Was she really gonna do this?
Devon’s not the enemy. We’re not in competition. She’s the woman Rhys loves, and since a part of me will always love him, too, maybe it’s a good idea for her to have a place in my life.
Her thumbs flying, she replied, I’ll be there.
Devon texted her the address along with a string of smiling emojis, and Lani couldn’t help but snort a little at her enthusiasm.
Just then the giggling couple was called back, and the man leapt to his feet and assisted the woman to hers with such tender solicitousness that tears sprang to Lani’s eyes anew. Before the self-pity could dig its claws any deeper, her phone chimed again.
She glanced at it impatiently, her heart giving a giant leap when she saw what it was, a picture of Bosch in full combat gear, along with an accompanying text. Ready to meet me? I’m free tonight if you are.
A grin spread over her face. I’d love to!
Great. My dad’ll pick you up at six?
Snickering at the realization she was having a “conversation” with a dog, she typed, Perfect.
Trusting a Warrior Page 11
