“What do you think?” she asked anxiously. “Good?”
He swallowed, put his fork down and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “I think lasagna for breakfast is the best idea anyone’s ever had.”
She rolled her eyes. “It is underrated as a breakfast food, but how does it taste?”
Pronouncing it delicious, Geo carried his empty plate to the sink. As he washed it, he glanced over at her. “This is what you’re taking to your group?”
“Yep. You’ve just been my lasagna guinea pig.”
Unable to resist him in all his shirtless glory, she wrapped her arms around his waist from behind and kissed his bare shoulder. “We’re eating at noon, and the meeting itself will start at 12:30.”
She could feel him tense, but he didn’t try to pull away. At last he blew out a breath. “Where is it?”
“Coronado.” Reluctantly letting him go, she pulled out her phone and texted him the address. Then she propped her hips against the counter. “No pressure,” she said quietly. “I’m gonna go early and help set up. If you make it, great. If not, that’s okay, too.”
His shoulders slumped in relief as her meaning sunk in, that she was leaving it up to him. No begging, no pleading, no riding together, nothing that could smack of coercion at all.
Leaning over, Geo gave her a short, hard kiss, then headed toward the bedroom, reappearing several minutes later pulling a T-shirt over his head. “Gonna go run a few errands,” he said noncommittally.
After the door had closed behind him, she sank into a chair at the kitchen table and buried her face in her hands.
Please, God. Please let me be doing the right thing.
A furtive twist of guilt went through her, one that she quickly banished. Yeah, sleeping with him might not have been the wisest course of action, but goddamn, what a night. Three times they’d made love, three glorious times that’d left her limp with satisfaction, the last one right as the sunrise started peeking through the blinds.
She shivered at the memory of his sleepy kisses, lazy hands and languid thrusts from behind, her top knee hooked over his forearm. They’d showered together before heading into the kitchen for their unconventional breakfast, Geo declaring himself famished.
“No wonder,” she’d teased him. “Good sex is hard work!”
He’d pulled her into his lap and kissed her thoroughly in agreement before letting her go.
Sighing, her lips still tingling, she pushed to her feet and padded into the bedroom to strip the sheets and tidy up, only to stop short in the doorway with a gasp. “Oh, my God!”
He’d already stripped the bed and remade it with crisp, perfect corners. Their scattered clothes had been picked up and stuffed in the hamper, the bathroom sink wiped down, wet towels hung neatly back up.
Lani clasped her hands to her chest and spun around in a circle before sinking to sit on the edge of the bed. “You’re a keeper for sure,” she said aloud to the empty room. “Husband material, boyfriend material...”
A pang shot though her. He might be a keeper, all right, but she couldn’t keep him. So what if he was a dishes whiz, a good listener and a generous and considerate lover? So what if she’d woken in the night to find him splaying his palm low on her belly, as if hoping to feel the baby move?
The pang morphed into an ache so sharp that tears sprang to her eyes. No, she couldn’t keep him. Not as long as he was a SEAL.
How many of her friends over the years had given birth alone, their husbands gone—out of touch, out of reach? How many of them had had to deal with missed birthdays, forgotten anniversaries, serious injuries, illnesses?
So many things left for them to handle alone, married as they were to men who were gone far more than they were ever home.
Lani squeezed her eyes shut.
An afternoon on Tabitha’s porch while the kids were all in school. The laughter flowing along with the wine, excited plans bandied about for the guys’ homecoming in only two weeks. Suzette had a pregnancy to announce to a husband she hadn’t seen in almost six months.
“Harry’s gonna shit when he sees me,” she said, cackling. “We’ve only been trying for two goddamn years, and then with one last goodbye fuck, boom...knocked up! I can’t wait to surprise him!”
Hoots and jokes from the women about all the homecoming babies about to be conceived, and then Suzette pushed to her feet. “Y’all, I bought the cutest maternity lingerie the other day. Lemme show you!”
Caressing her baby bump, she hurried to her house across the street.
A little envious of her happiness, visions of her own childless future with Rhys swirling before her, Lani hadn’t even noticed the government car that’d turned the corner until someone gasped.
Frozen in horror, they watched it creep along before pulling over to the curb and stopping—in front of Suzette’s house.
Anguished shouts of “No!” interspersed with the tinkle of wineglasses crashing to the ground...
For the rest of her life, Lani would never forget the sight of Tabitha’s long blond hair streaming out behind her as she ran barefoot across the street, desperate to get to her friend before the Navy chaplain did. Before Suzette’s world crashed down around her ears. Before she learned that Harry would never meet his long-awaited son...
“I can’t do it,” she gasped, the painful memories splintering her heart into pieces all over again. “I can’t live my life like that. I can’t.”
She’d had enough of goodbyes.
* * *
Geo killed the engine and gazed up at the small house.
“In a lot of ways, the second year is harder than the first. She’ll need friends now more than ever.”
Lani’s words echoing in his ears, he pulled off his helmet and tucked it under his arm. Then, his heart thundering, the lasagna he’d eaten a lump in his stomach, Geo made his way slowly up the walk toward Renae’s front door.
At the sight of the chairs on the porch, his eyes burned. How many beers had he shared here with Cade over the years, their feet propped on the railing as they talked about work, love and life?
He’d been the only one in the command who knew the truth about Jake.
“I’m here for you one hundred percent, brother, whatever you decide to do.”
In the end, of course, he’d chosen his career over his relationship, and after Jake had moved out, Cade’s unwavering support was what got him through those first emotional weeks.
“Couldn’t have done it without you,” he whispered to the empty porch. “Best swim buddy ever.”
Before he could change his mind, Geo put his helmet down on a chair and then knocked softly. If Renae didn’t answer in thirty seconds, he would—
The door swung open almost immediately. “Hey, Geo.” Renae smiled up at him, her face thinner than he remembered, the sharpness of her cheekbones highlighting the deep ocean blue of her eyes. “I heard you pull up.”
And then waited to see if he had the guts to go through with it.
Shame twisting him into knots, Geo stammered for a reply, then choked off when Renae simply opened her arms and gathered him close. He clutched onto her, her presence a sudden, tangible connection to Cade—one he hadn’t known he so desperately needed.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
She stroked the back of his head like she was comforting a child. “For what?”
“For not being here. For not—”
Once again he couldn’t go on, and Renae pulled away, then reached up to cup his face in her hands. “Well, you’re here now. Come on. Let’s have some coffee and talk.”
Discomfort still roiled through him, but Geo nodded and followed her inside. The living room was much the same, except for the big wooden Trident that Cade’d had commissioned. He’d been so proud of it, and hung it in a place of honor over the couch.
Now it was go
ne, replaced by a photograph of a stunning beach sunset.
A lot of other SEAL memorabilia that Geo remembered being scattered throughout the house was gone, too.
He bit his lip. Well, why wouldn’t it be? Who’d want those reminders?
“I had my brother come pack it away,” Renae said, answering his unspoken question. “I’ll go through it all someday when my girls are ready.”
Swallowing hard, Geo croaked, “How are the girls?” He accepted the cup of coffee Renae handed him as they took their seats at the table.
She sighed. “Ava is—well, she’s Ava. Wears her heart on her sleeve, gets it all out. Ari? She’s my stoic one, the quiet one. Spends all her time reading or playing soccer.”
Geo nodded, his heart aching for Cade’s nine-and ten-year-old daughters.
“I think the permanence of it’s been a little hard for them to understand, because he’d always been gone a lot.” She shook her head. “Hell, even I think that sometimes: ‘Cade’s not dead, he’s just on deployment.’”
Geo had no idea what to say, and just in time he remembered Lani’s words.
“She doesn’t need you to ‘fix’ anything about what she’s going through. Just be there. Just show up.”
So he reached across the table and covered her hand with his. “I miss him, too. And I’m really fucking sorry it’s taken me so long to get here.”
Renae’s eyes met his. “You’re the only one from his platoon who’s come to visit,” she said, with just the faintest trace of bitterness. “It’s like my husband went from hero to zero in the blink of an eye.”
He couldn’t deny that’s what a large part of the community thought, and he didn’t want to insult her intelligence by trying to. Squeezing her hand, he said, “Well, he’ll always be a hero to me.”
Her eyelashes grew spiky. “Thanks, Geo. Even getting to talk about him is nice. People avoid the subject like it’s the plague.”
Once again Lani came to his rescue.
“Just so you know, asking about him, about the person he was, is always the right thing to say.”
He quirked his lips. “Well, before I knocked, I was standing out on the porch remembering all the times I invaded your home, drank your beer.”
With a chuckle, she let go of him and picked up her coffee. “God, he loved you, George. He used to say you were the little brother he never had.”
“Really?” Warmth flooded him, banishing the discomfort, and suddenly Geo was glad he’d come. “Then no wonder he busted my balls so much, Jesus.”
“He was beyond proud of you. I mean that.”
“Well, it’s because of him that I’m even here.” Ignoring the tears pricking at the backs of his eyes, he wrinkled his nose at her. “Did he ever tell you about the time he accidentally drank some other dude’s dip spit?”
She gasped. “No! He didn’t!”
Before long they were laughing, trading stories about a man they’d both loved. Renae raked her hair back with one hand and grinned. “This is great. You’re telling me stuff about the side of him I never got to see. You seriously pulled a knife on that bouncer?”
Geo groaned. “I did, convinced I was a badass impressing my teammates. Afterward, when Cade made me cut my brand-new Trident patch off my uniform...”
“Yikes.” She winced. “It was a lesson you never forgot, huh?”
“Never. He said, ‘This symbol doesn’t make you a hero, your actions do. There are plenty of heroic guys who don’t wear Tridents and plenty of pieces of shit who do. Which one do you want to be?’”
She picked at the donut she’d dug out from a box of them on the counter. “He loved mentoring new SEALs. Whenever he had those bouts of depression, I’d remind him of that. ‘Those kids are counting on you.’”
Geo froze with his own bite halfway to his mouth. “Depression?”
Renae’s gaze met his. “He’d suffered from anxiety and depression since he was in high school.”
In growing shock, Geo listened to her tell him about Cade surviving a car crash in which his two best friends died.
“He was sixteen, and he never got professional help,” she said. “Instead, his parents told him to pray about it.” Her jaw clenched. “Then when he was twenty-two, his BUD/S swim buddy was killed in a training accident right before their first deployment. No time to grieve, just suck it up and go to war. Then...”
“Then Cobra Three-Five,” Geo whispered.
“Yes.” She nodded. “The husband I knew died on that helicopter with his friends. After he came home, his depression got worse—longer, more pervasive. I begged him to get help, but...”
“He wouldn’t?”
“He was a SEAL,” she said quietly. “To him, it wasn’t a legitimate mental illness, it was a character flaw. A weakness. He was always apologizing to me for not being stronger and ‘more of a man.’”
The horror washed through Geo in wave after wave. “I wish I’d known,” he said shakily.
“The night he died,” Renae went on, “he called me on the sat phone. I asked him again about getting help. He said he would, that he needed to, that things were going to be different from now on.”
She shook her head. “He sounded good when he said that, more like himself. I—I believed him. Never dreamed that as soon as he hung up the phone, he would—” Her voice broke.
In an instant, Geo flashed back to what Lani had said about the suicide-attempt survivor who’d visited their group. Turning his palm up and entwining Renae’s fingers with his, he told her about it, about Cade’s possible relief at having made his plan, his pain eased for maybe the first time in years.
A single tear streaked down her cheek. “How I hope and pray that’s the case.” She squeezed his hand. “When did you get so wise?”
He squeezed back. “Well, I have this friend...”
After he’d told her about Lani, she smiled. “Bring her over for dinner sometime. I’d love to get to know her better.”
He said he would, then got up to rinse his coffee mug out. As he did, he gazed out into the backyard, at the seed pods, brown leaves and other debris that covered the ground. Renae snorted when she saw what he was looking at. “That stupid-ass tree.”
“Cade hated it,” they said in unison, then laughed. Geo slid his arm around her shoulder and kissed the top of her head.
“I’ll come take care of it,” he promised. “Soon.”
She leaned against him. “I’d appreciate that more than you know.”
They held on to each other for several long minutes, and then she determinedly pulled away. “Now shoo. I have hair and nail appointments this afternoon.” Putting her hand on his back, she began walking him to the door. “I’m going out with some girlfriends tonight for a bachelorette party. Hers is the third wedding this year and they refuse to let me back out this time.”
“Good.”
“Yep. I’m going to go, and I’m gonna take joy in my friend. If I need to cry, I’ll cry, and then I’ll get right back to dancing.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “I’m so glad you stopped by.”
After she’d closed the door behind him, Geo sat on his bike at the curb for a while, staring at the house, not quite willing to leave her yet.
“You were right, Lani,” he whispered.
Renae hadn’t needed him to “fix” anything. What she’d needed was for someone who also loved Cade to show up, to listen, to not be afraid to talk about him. He’d needed that, too, more than he realized.
Firing up his bike, he gazed at the unkempt yard.
He could also honor his friend by being there for the family Geo knew had meant everything to him. His joy and pride in his daughters was front and center in almost everything Cade did, from carrying their picture in his helmet to taking along the tiny stuffed bear that Ari had given him for “luck” on every single missio
n.
His jaw set with a new determination, Geo activated his Bluetooth and made a call.
“A SEAL brother’s wife needs help,” he said without preamble when Matt picked up. “You free tomorrow?”
After Geo explained the situation with the tree, Matt promised to be there with all the manpower and lawn tools he could muster.
“Be sure people know this is Cade Barlow’s family,” Geo grunted. “’Cause if anyone shows up and has a problem with that—”
“Got it,” Matt assured him. “There won’t be any problems.”
As they hung up, a fragile sense of peace wrapped around him.
It was a small thing, trimming a tree, cleaning a yard. But it was a start, and he couldn’t deny that taking direct action against his anger and grief was giving him back a much-needed sense of control.
Thank you, Lani.
Would he have ever had the courage to visit Renae if it hadn’t been for her?
His throat tightened. Of course he wouldn’t have. He’d have continued to avoid her, drowning as he was in the toxic brew of his guilt and shame. In her own gentle and inexorable way, Lani’d thrown him a lifeline, the same one she’d been thrown by the others who’d gone before her.
Geo glanced at his watch and took a deep breath. He could make it. He could keep this momentum going. After all, he was one of the guardians of Cade’s memory, and his mentor—his friend—deserved no less.
Kicking his bike into gear, he eased away from the curb and headed toward Coronado.
Chapter Nineteen
“I don’t think he’s coming.”
Lani glanced at the door, then at Maura, who smiled at her reassuringly. “It’s okay if he doesn’t.”
“What?” Agitation and worry sharpened Lani’s voice. “Geo needs this.”
“Well, not everyone is a candidate for group therapy,” was Maura’s surprising answer. As Lani gaped at her, she went on, “People tend to grieve how they live. How is Geo in life? Is he open with his feelings and emotions, or is he reserved, stoic, self-reliant?”
Trusting a Warrior Page 23
