Читать книгу Seducing the Marine - Kate Hoffmann - Страница 11

1

THE BLAST HIT his body, a rush of hot air and shrapnel picking him up off his feet and hurling him through the air. The moment he hit the ground, Will’s eyes snapped open—

His breath came in quick gasps and he blinked, looking around the room to get his bearings. He was home. He was safe. The explosion, so real and intense just a moment ago, had only been a dream. The same dream that returned every night.

Groaning softly, he threw his arm over his eyes and waited until his heart slowed to a normal rate. But someone was pounding loudly on the cabin door—that was the sound that had invaded his nightmare, the sound his brain had interpreted as an explosion.

Cursing, he got up and crossed the room, dressed only in his boxer shorts. He grabbed a T-shirt hanging on the back of a chair and tugged it over his head, ignoring the incessant throbbing in his head that never seemed to abate. Pulling open the door, he squinted against the afternoon light. How long had he slept? Two hours? Or an entire day? He’d lost track of time.

His sister, Elly, stood at the door of their grandfather’s cabin, bundled up against the cold. Will turned away from the door, shivering as an icy wind whipped through the interior. “Either come in or shut the door,” he muttered.

She followed him inside, slamming the door behind her. “You missed your doctor’s appointment today,” she said. “The clinic called me to find out where you were. Dammit, Will, I told you if you needed a ride, I’d come and get you. But you said J.T. was going to take you.”

“He couldn’t,” Will said, crossing to the kitchen. He yanked open the fridge and pulled out a carton of orange juice, took a long drink, then closed his eyes. He’d laced the orange juice with vodka last night, and the alcohol spread a soothing warmth through his bloodstream. There were times in Afghanistan that he’d gone weeks without the taste of fresh fruit, and now all he had to do was open a refrigerator and there it was. “He got a job over in Bayfield.”

“Get dressed,” she said.

“I’ve already missed the appointment,” he said. “It’s too late.”

Elly hitched her hands on her hips. “If you’re not going to go to the doctor, then I’m going to bring the doctor to you.”

Will froze, his hand gripping the carton until it collapsed. He placed it back in the fridge, then slowly turned. “If you bring her here, I will never forgive you,” he said.

His younger sister had always been close to Olivia, but after the breakup, she’d been smart enough not to mention Olivia in emails or phone calls. Even so, Calumet was a small town and Olivia was a doctor. Everyone knew her. Hell, his old high school buddy J.T. had heard enough stories about her to fill him in on all the details of Dr. Olivia Eklund’s life over the past nine years.

After Olivia had tossed him aside, she’d finished college and med school in record time. She’d married another doctor, but when he’d refused to move to the Upper Peninsula, she’d divorced him and returned to her hometown to set up her medical practice. She hadn’t dated anyone in at least a year, but she had reconnected with some of her old high school friends. And she’d delivered J.T.’s son six months ago.

Will didn’t want to care about Olivia; he tried not to be curious or imagine what she might look like now. But knowing that the one woman he could never have was living just a few miles away was more than he was able to deal with right now.

“And what if I did bring her out here? Maybe she could talk some sense into you.” Elly brushed past him and grabbed the orange juice, taking a long drink. She winced. “Is there—”

“Yeah,” he said. “It was New Year’s Eve. I wanted to celebrate and I didn’t have any champagne.”

She shook her head and dumped the rest of the juice down the drain. “New Year’s Eve was three nights ago. And you shouldn’t be drinking.” She spun around and grabbed him around the waist, giving him a fierce hug. “I’m worried about you.” She sighed softly. “You can’t avoid her forever.”

“And I can’t erase the past nine years. We’re different people, El. I’m not going to magically transform into the old Will the moment I talk to her. I know that’s what you expect, that seeing her again will solve all my problems. But that’s just some stupid romantic fantasy.”

Elly sighed. “I’m sorry.” She crossed the room and grabbed a shirt from the back of the sofa. “But you have to get out, Will. You can’t stay cooped up here. You need fresh air and exercise. You look like death warmed over.”

Will knew she was right. But the dull headache he had now could become agonizing at any moment. And he felt more comfortable alone and in the dark. “I am death warmed over,” he joked.

Elly’s eyes filled with tears. “Don’t say that. You have no idea what we’ve gone through, wondering if we were going to get the visit, never knowing where you were or if you were safe.”

Will cursed himself beneath his breath. Navigating the civilian world was impossible for him. A marine had to be emotionless, and he’d lived in that bubble for so long that now he had no idea how to relate to people anymore, not even his sister. “I’m sorry,” he said.

Jesus, how many times had he muttered those words since he’d been back? It was so much easier to isolate himself and avoid these kinds of missteps. Bombs were easier to defuse than human emotions.

“I just need a little more time,” he said. “It’s hard to adjust to being home. Hell, I’m not sure it’s even worth trying to adjust. As soon as I’m clear, I’ll head back to my unit.”

“Why can’t you be done? Just stop. Now.”

“It’s what I do,” he said. “I’m good at it.”

“You could be good at other things,” she said.

Will knew that wasn’t true. This past month had been enough to prove that civilian life wasn’t for him. And though his future in the military was still in doubt, he had every intention of finishing his tour and signing up for another.

He’d always wanted to be a marine. His father had been a marine, and his grandfather had been a submariner in the US Navy. Will had grown up with the stories about WWII and Vietnam, about honor and glory and serving with courage. Will had felt compelled to honor the family tradition.

His mother and sister had wanted him to wait to get his college degree. And Olivia had never accepted his plans, assuming he’d change his mind at some point or she’d change it for him. She’d never understood how deeply the military was etched into his DNA and he’d never been able to explain it to her.

“I’m going to pick up the boys at school and take them to hockey,” Elly said. “Jim is working late and we’re going to meet him for pizza after practice. You could come with us.”

In truth, all Will wanted to do was crawl back into bed and close his eyes. But Elly was right. He should at least make an attempt to socialize. After all, there was a possibility the doctors wouldn’t clear him to return to his unit and somehow he’d have to figure out how to belong in the land of the living again. “Give me a minute to get dressed,” he said, raking his hands through his hair.

Elly handed him the shirt and gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you,” she whispered.

She waited for him in the rusty SUV while Will pulled himself together. It took him a while. Since the explosion, his brain had been scrambled and it took longer to sort out the steps in any task. The doctors had said it would become easier once the effects of the head trauma faded.

He spent five minutes searching for his sunglasses, then found them on the kitchen table, in plain view. He slipped them on as he stepped outside into the low afternoon light. Drawing a deep breath of crisp, clean air, Will paused to let his head clear before starting toward Elly’s truck.

As they drove into town, a country song started blaring from the radio. Wincing, Will reached out to turn it off and Elly glanced over at him. “Are you all right?”

“It’s just a little difficult to process noise,” he said. “It makes my head hurt.”

“I’m calling tomorrow to make another appointment for you at the VA. You were supposed to go when you arrived home and that was three weeks ago. You should—”

“They said it would take time,” Will interrupted. “It’s hardly been four months since the...accident. The doctors expect it to take at least twice that before I start to feel normal again.”

“What if it doesn’t get better?” Elly asked.

“Then I get a different MOS,” he said. “There are a lot of things I can do in the corps.”

“But not in Afghanistan?”

“I don’t know,” Will snapped, his irritation rising. He wasn’t sure he could survive a life outside of active duty. In the past three weeks, he’d felt as if he was moving through mud, all his senses slowing until he could hardly breathe. He craved the adrenaline rush of his job, the chaos that surrounded him every day, the pulse-pounding excitement of his work.

His dad had always said he’d never felt more alive than when he’d faced death as a soldier. He’d told Will that every man needed to experience these deeply held fears before he could gain perspective on the rest of his life. Strange how it was the exact opposite for Will. He’d learned to feed on his fear, to use it like a drug to numb his body and his mind. He didn’t feel alive. He was dead inside.

“You’ve got to find a new line of work,” Elly said, an edge of sarcasm coloring her words.

They drove into Calumet and headed toward the school. But Elly pulled over in front of the post office, then grabbed a package from the rear seat of the SUV. “Could you run that in for me?” she asked, reaching for her purse. She held out a ten-dollar bill.

“What is it?” he asked.

“A swimsuit. It was supposed to be for our vacation to Mexico in March, but I look like the great white whale in it. I hate winter. I get so...plump.”

“You’ve got to find a new place to live,” he said.

Elly laughed. “I’m going to run and grab a couple bottles of Gatorade for the boys. I’ll be back for you in five minutes.”

Will got out of the truck and walked up the front steps of the post office. When he got inside there were two people in line in front of him and he waited patiently, hoping no one would recognize him. But his hopes were shattered when the first person in line turned to leave and looked straight at him.

The world seemed to grind to a halt around him as he met her gaze. He held his breath, hoping she’d walk right by, but she stopped.

A tiny gasp slipped from her lips. “Will?”

She didn’t look anything like he’d thought she would. His memories of Olivia Eklund had been of a girl frozen at age twenty, young and fresh faced with copper hair and freckles across the bridge of her nose. She still had copper-colored hair, but it was now streaked with blond and fell in soft waves around her face.

“Liv,” he murmured. The room felt as if it was tilted and he couldn’t keep his balance. God, she was stunning. She was, and always would be, the most beautiful woman he’d ever known.

“I—I heard you were home,” she said.

“Not for long,” Will replied. “I’m headed back. Soon. Real soon.”

“Oh,” she said, forcing a smile. “Well...”

“Yes,” he said, his gaze drifting down to her lips. He remembered what it felt like to kiss those lips, to taste the sweet warmth of her mouth. He remembered the first time he’d kissed her, on her fifteenth birthday. Will fought the temptation to pull her into his arms and discover whether his memories were accurate. Instead, he balled his hands into tight fists. “You look...good.”

Hell, she looked beautiful. Radiant. Gorgeous.

She smiled and shrugged. “You look...great.” Liv drew a deep breath. “I—I should go. It was great seeing you again. Take care, all right?” She hurried to the door and he watched as she stepped out into the cold.

When he turned back around, he found the postal clerk and the other patron watching him. He recognized them both. The clerk was a girl who’d graduated the year before him in high school and the patron was his old English teacher, Mrs. Paulis.

“Awkward,” Will said, forcing a smile. He spun and walked out of the lobby, Elly’s package still tucked beneath his arm. He waited outside in the cold, pacing a short stretch of sidewalk until Elly pulled up.

When he got inside, he tossed the package onto her lap angrily. “Did you set that up? Did you know she’d be there?”

“Who? Why didn’t you mail this?”

“Are you saying you had no idea she’d be there?”

“Kristina Olson?”

“No, Liv. Olivia was in the post office.”

Her eyes went wide. “Of course I had no idea she’d be in there. Jeez, Will, it’s a small town. You’re going to run into people you know. Get over it.”

“I’ve been over it for nearly ten years. And I don’t need you messing with my life. Just leave it alone.”

“Maybe you should stay holed up in that cabin. At least then you wouldn’t subject the rest of us to your paranoid delusions.” She grabbed the package and got out of the truck.

Will closed his eyes and leaned back in the seat, covering his eyes with his hand and cursing softly. All right, maybe this hadn’t been some grand plan of Elly’s to throw them back together. And maybe he’d acted like a first-class ass.

There was one thing he did know for sure: his heart was beating faster and his mind was suddenly sharp. He felt alive and aware for the first time since the explosion. And he suspected that it had everything to do with seeing Olivia again.

* * *

“SEE. IT’S AS good as new.”

Olivia took Benny Johansson’s right arm and examined it. “Yup, you’re ready to play hockey again,” she said, tapping on the plastic guard with her knuckles. “How does it feel?”

“Great,” Benny said.

“Then get to it,” she said. She waited until the seven-year-old skated out across the ice before finding herself a seat. She’d set Benny’s broken bone three months before, after Benny had gotten slashed with a hockey stick. After removing the cast a few days ago, Benny had invited her to his game and promised he’d dedicate his performance to Dr. Olivia.

“Liv?”

She glanced over to see Elly Winthrop making her way to a nearby seat. First Will and now Elly. Considering her personal life had been impossibly dull this winter, she wondered if it was about to take a turn. “Elly. Hey there. How are you?”

Elly made her away along Olivia’s row, then plopped down beside her. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to see a patient. Benny Johansson. I set his broken arm.” Olivia laughed softly. “This is my social life—peewee hockey.” She paused. “I ran into Will earlier at the post office. It was kind of...odd.”

“Well, it’s about to get even more odd,” Elly said. “He’s here.”

“Here? Where?”

“Right back there,” she said, pointing over her shoulder.

Olivia twisted around and found Will standing near the doorway, staring at them both. Olivia drew a deep breath and stood. “He doesn’t look happy to see me. I’d better leave.”

“Why? He’ll just have to get over himself. Talk to him. He could use a friend. He’s been hiding out in our grandfather’s cabin for the past three weeks.”

“I’m not sure I could—”

“Try,” Elly said. “Please?”

Olivia waited as Will slowly made his way down to their seats. The moment he sat down, Elly jumped up and crawled over Will to the aisle. “I’m going to go check on the boys,” she said.

A long silence grew between them, and Olivia waited for Will to say something—anything. She finally decided to break the ice. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were stalking me,” she teased.

She thought she saw the tiniest hint of a smile twitch at the corners of his lips. “If I wanted to stalk you, you’d never see me coming,” he replied. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here on a date,” she said. He seemed taken aback and glanced around. “Benny Johannson. Age seven.” Olivia pointed to the boy. “Number seventeen for the Hawks.”

“You like them younger now?” he asked.

“Yes. I’ve run through all the six-year-olds in town and moved on to the seven-year-olds.”

Will laughed softly. “I should probably go find Elly.”

Olivia reached out and placed her hand on his arm. He glanced down, his gaze fixed on her fingers, his shoulders rising and falling with each breath he took. She knew he’d probably refuse the invitation, but she couldn’t help herself. He was wounded, and not just physically. “Would you like to get some dinner with me?” Olivia asked. “Maybe we could...talk?”

As he considered her offer, she silently prayed that he would refuse. She wasn’t ready to dredge up the past. And yet there were so many things that had to be said, so many injuries that had never healed. She felt compelled to set things right before he left again, which could be any day.

“No,” he finally said. “That would probably be a mistake. I—I’m pretty bad company these days.”

“Fine,” she said in a bright tone, standing up. “Of course. I understand.” She nodded, then reached into her pocket and grabbed her gloves. “It was lovely seeing you. Say goodbye to Elly for me?”

“I’ll do that,” he said.

For a long moment, she stared into his eyes, trying to read the emotion behind them. But she couldn’t find even a tiny crack in his icy blue gaze. “Take care,” she finally said.

As she turned to leave, she felt her knees go weak. He wasn’t the boy she remembered. Back then, they’d been playing at passion, pretending to understand the desire that moved them. But now she understood the dangers, and there was no doubt—Will MacIntyre was a dangerous man. Though he resembled her teenage sweetheart, there was a hard edge to him, as if all the warmth and affection were now hidden behind an impenetrable facade.

There’d been many times over the past nine years when Olivia had wished she’d ripped up that Dear John letter and changed the course of their history. He would have come home after one tour. They would have been together and made a life and a family. Instead, he’d put a half a world between them and she’d had to find other dreams.

She pushed open the door and stepped out into the cold. Snow had begun to fall, dusting the cars in the parking lot in a soft blanket of white. She found her SUV and circled it, brushing the snow off the windows with her hand.

When she came back around to the driver’s side, Olivia stopped short. Will stood next to her car, blocking her way. He had such a pained look on his face, she was afraid to say anything. And then, without speaking, he crossed the distance between them, pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

This kiss was filled with every emotion she could imagine—anger, desire, regret, affection. Olivia couldn’t tell what it was supposed to mean, but when he pressed her back against the driver’s-side door, she stopped wondering and simply surrendered.

No, he definitely wasn’t a boy anymore. This was a man, sure of what he wanted and determined to take it. A man who was testing the limits of her passion with the heat of his mouth on hers.

He ravaged her with his lips and his tongue, as if searching for a deeper connection. He held her face between his gloved hands and molded her mouth against his until the last shred of Olivia’s resistance melted.

How could it still be this way? So much time had passed. But this wasn’t the same passion they’d shared so many years before. This was new and frightening in its power and intensity. He was a stranger and yet she knew him intimately.

As suddenly as the kiss had begun, it ended. He stumbled away and shoved his hands in his pockets, his breath clouding in front of his face. Olivia waited for him to say something, but he didn’t. Instead, he spun on his heel and strode back toward the front doors of the ice arena.

She collapsed against the car and pressed her hand to her chest.

Mild tachycardia and disequilibrium. Early symptoms of hyperventilation.

It had been over a year since a man had kissed her and even longer since she’d had sex. Her strong physical reaction shouldn’t have come as a surprise. And yet it had.

For years, she’d looked back on her breakup with Will and felt nothing but regret. It had plagued her in those moments when she’d tried to imagine the life he lived, the dangers that surrounded him daily. And she’d sworn to herself that if she ever had the chance to set things right between the two of them, she would. She’d apologize and find a way to make him understand what had driven her to write the Dear John letter. And then she’d be able to finally let him go.

Before she could start after him, she heard a shout.

“Dr. Eklund!” Marcy Mackie was running toward her. “Thank God I caught you. Can you come back inside? One of the boys has been hurt.”

“Let me grab my bag,” Olivia said, wiping an errant tear from her cheek. She unlocked the car and pulled her bag from its spot behind the driver’s seat, then hurried inside.

The hockey game had come to a halt and both teams were gathered near the bench. When she reached the rink, she found Benny sitting on the ice, tears streaming down his cheeks. He was holding his arm, and his left hand dangled at an awkward angle.

“Oh, Benny. Again?” He nodded and she squatted down next to him. “You might want to take up soccer. You don’t need your arms for that.”

Benny laughed, his nose runny and his eyes red. “My mom is going to kill me,” he said.

“No, she isn’t,” Olivia said. She glanced over her shoulder at Marcy. “Is his mom here?”

“She’s on her way,” the coach said.

“Let’s get him off the ice and I’ll splint his wrist before we take him over to the emergency room. Can someone—”

“I’ve got him.”

Will appeared out of the crowd of kids and bent down to scoop Benny up in his arms. Olivia followed them off the ice, and when they reached the locker room, Will set the boy down on a counter next to the sinks.

“It doesn’t hurt as much as the last time,” Benny said. “Maybe it’s not broken after all.”

“Do this,” Olivia said, flexing her wrist. Benny tried and failed. “It’s broken.”

“How long will it take to heal?”

“We’re going to take an X-ray and see about that. But I don’t think you’re going to be playing hockey this winter.”

Benny turned to Will, who was watching them both from a distance. “Did you ever break your arm?”

“I did,” he said. “And my leg. I’ve even been shot. Twice.”

Benny’s eyes went wide. “You’re the army guy. Kyle’s uncle. Kyle is my best friend. One of my best friends. He said you got blown up in the war. Is that true?”

“Not exactly. And I’m a marine. That’s different than army.”

“Cool,” Benny said. “Can I see your bullet hole?”

“It’s in a place that I can’t really show right now,” he said. “I’d have to take my clothes off.” Will nodded his head at Olivia. “And there’s a girl in the room.”

“Oh, right,” Benny said, grinning.

They continued to chat about Will’s military career, Benny asking Will brutally direct questions and Will answering as best as he could. By the time Benny’s mother arrived, Olivia had splinted Benny’s wrist and given him a grape Tootsie Pop to keep the boy from dwelling on the pain.

“Take him to the emergency room,” Olivia said to Benny’s mother. “I want to take X-rays and then we’ll probably put a cast on it.”

“Another cast?” Benny asked.

“It’s the only way to fix it,” she said. “Sorry.”

“Yeah, I know,” the boy said, nodding.

“All right. I’ll meet you there, buddy.” She watched as Benny walked out with his mother, then she glanced over at Will. “Thanks for the help. And for distracting him.”

“No problem.” He leaned against the wall, observing her coolly. “You really are a doctor, aren’t you.”

“I better be. Or the patients I’ve been seeing this past year are going to sue me.” She held up her hand to him as she pulled her cell phone from her jacket pocket. “Hang on, let me call this in.”

He watched her silently as she pulled up the number for the emergency room at the hospital in the neighboring town of Laurium. “Hey, Sarah, it’s Olivia. I have Benny Johansson, seven years old, coming in with a fractured left wrist. I’m going to want X-rays.” She paused. “And order a full blood workup, as well. And give him a Popsicle. He likes grape.” She hung up the phone. “I better go.”

“Why the blood test?” Will asked.

“Just routine,” Olivia replied.

Will shook his head. “No, it’s not. I’ve hung around enough medics in the last nine years. Witnessed enough shattered limbs. You don’t order a blood test for broken bones.”

“I can’t talk about it,” Olivia said. “It’s confidential. I—I shouldn’t have made that call in your presence.” She silently scolded herself. “I really have to go now. I’ll—I’ll see you around, Will.”

He didn’t reply, and the silence was only broken by the soft sound of her boots against the tile floor as she walked away.

Olivia had imagined them meeting again. She’d created fanciful dreams of how it might go, and it had always been impossibly grand and romantic. But this hadn’t been anything resembling her fantasies. It had been real and raw, painful and confusing, like pulling sutures from an unhealed wound.

And still, she had to see him again. She needed to find out if there was anything behind that passionate kiss. Was he still harboring feelings for her or had he simply reacted without thinking? The last thing she wanted was to start everything up again with Will. She had to stick to the plan—find closure, for both of them.

She pressed her fingers to her damp lips. While Olivia couldn’t deny the rush of emotion that had flooded her body when he’d kissed her, that was to be expected. He was handsome and a bit dangerous, and had he been anyone but Will, she might have considered a nice little affair.

But Olivia knew that any type of intimate contact between her and Will would be a mistake. Unfortunately, she wasn’t sure that Will shared her opinion.

* * *

THE SUN HAD fallen below the horizon and the temperature hovered near zero. Will strode down the snow-covered street, his gaze fixed on the pavement ahead of him. He’d left Elly and the boys at the rink and told his sister he’d meet them at the pizzeria for dinner.

But first he needed the frigid air and snowy night to clear his head. What the hell had he been thinking? Running into Liv at the post office was bad enough. But then to chase her out of the rink and kiss her? He might as well shoot himself through the heart and be done with it.

He searched for ways to rationalize his behavior. His brain might still be a bit scrambled from his injury. Or maybe it had to do with the fact that he hadn’t slept with a woman in months. But Will suspected that it actually came down to the flood of feelings that raced through him when he looked at her.

He hadn’t really felt much of anything in years, not since that day he’d gotten the letter. In a war zone, emotion was something that could get a guy killed or permanently disabled. He’d forced himself to harden his heart and to lock his soul so deeply inside him that nothing he saw or did would affect him. It was the best way to survive his service and come out whole on the other side.

He’d seen so many friends struggle with PTSD, only to go home and find that home wasn’t a cure at all. It simply amplified the symptoms. Will was tough and he understood the pitfalls. But he’d always had the ability to put his emotions aside and focus on the job.

For now, his single focus was to get better, both physically and mentally, so he could return to the only place in the world that made sense: his unit in Afghanistan. Life there was lived in simple terms—black-and-white, good and bad, safe and dangerous.

Yet he couldn’t deny the attraction to a civilian life. He remembered a moment, sitting beside a bomb-pocked road in the Helmand Province. A butterfly had landed on the muzzle of his weapon and he’d watched it, its wings silently opening and closing in the dusty breeze. In that moment, he’d felt human again, certain that he still had a soul. Since then, the only time he’d felt the same was today, with Olivia. And though he knew he should keep his distance, he craved that feeling again.

He pulled his cap lower over his ears and rounded the corner. The town hadn’t changed much over the years. He wasn’t sure exactly where he was, but he’d find his bearings sooner or later, though the snow piled up in front of the buildings and the dim light from the streetlamps made it tricky.

He headed toward a bright light, and when he finally reached it, he stopped and stared up at the hospital. “Shit,” Will muttered. Was this where he’d been headed all along? He’d taken the most direct route, just a fifteen-minute walk from the rink.

It was as though some strange magnetic force had drawn him here. She’d left the rink a half hour before. She was probably still inside, setting Benny’s broken bone. He glanced around the parking lot and spotted her SUV.

There were things to be said, he mused. An apology, or maybe an explanation for his behavior. And there were things to be done—like kiss her again. He stared at the hospital and ruled out going inside. Over the past four months, he’d spent far too much time trapped by the sterile walls of a hospital, surrounded by the specter of death.

Will crossed to Olivia’s car and leaned against the passenger-side door, deciding to wait until she came outside.

The frigid wind bit into his face, and Will crossed his arms over his chest in an attempt to conserve his body heat. He’d weathered much worse in Afghanistan. Brutal conditions that wore a man down. But that had been before he’d been softened by days spent flat on his back in a hospital bed.

He tried the passenger-side door and found it locked, then circled the car, running his hands inside the wheel wells until he found what he was looking for—a magnetic key holder. He slid it open and found a spare key, then unlocked the passenger door and hopped inside.

As he stared out at the snowstorm, illuminated by the parking lot lights, Will thought about what he planned to say to Olivia. The military had taught him to always have a plan, a strategy, for every mission he undertook. A way in and a way out. But his brain just didn’t seem to work right lately. He’d never been impulsive or unpredictable—until now.

“What the hell am I doing?” he murmured, his breath clouding in front of his face. He reached for the door and at the same moment, the door locks clicked and beeped. At first she didn’t see him, but then she looked up and a surprised cry burst from her lips.

Will brushed his hood off his head and held up his hand. “It’s me. Will.”

Olivia pressed her hand to her head. “Good Lord, you scared me. What are you doing out here?”

“I didn’t want to wait inside,” he muttered. “How’s Benny?”

“He’s fine,” she said softly.

“Is he? Or are you just required to say that?”

“I’m required to say that,” she replied.

“Is it serious?”

“Yeah, if it’s what I suspect, it’s serious. But not life threatening. And that’s all I can say. How did you get here?”

“I walked,” he said.

“It’s freezing out. The windchill is dangerous and you’re still recovering.” She drew a deep breath and shook her head. “You need to get yourself a car.”

“I can’t drive,” he said. “My vision is still a little wonky from the concussion.”

She studied him for a long moment, then nodded. “Would you like to grab a cup of coffee?”

“I’d rather have a drink,” Will said.

“Well, I can’t drink since I’m on call until midnight. But I suppose I could find something nonalcoholic to enjoy.”

“Coffee is good,” he said. “I don’t sleep anyway, so what the hell. I’ll live dangerously.”

She reached out to start the SUV. Will watched her, his heart slamming in his chest. He relished the attraction between them and the desire that had raced through his veins the instant he’d kissed her. And though there could be no future in anything they shared, that wouldn’t stop him from wanting her. She was like a drug, a wonderful high that made him feel human again.

Then he reconsidered. Could he be so selfish? To take what he wanted without offering anything in return? He’d lived in a world of moral ambiguity for such a long time, Will wasn’t sure what was right or wrong anymore. “You know, maybe we shouldn’t do this.”

“We shouldn’t have coffee? That’s all this is, Will. Just two friends.” She glanced over at him. “We have a new coffee shop in town. It’s really nice. And warm. Why don’t we go there?”

He cleared his throat. “Maybe I should just tell you what I came here to say.”

“All right,” she said. “And then I have a few things I need to say myself.”

“You go first,” Will said.

“No, you go. I can wait.”

He took a deep breath and nodded. “All right. So.”

“So,” she repeated.

“I guess I want to say that...I shouldn’t have kissed you. I don’t know what got into me, but I regret what I did. And—and I don’t want you to think that I expect us to take up where we left off.”

“It was just a kiss,” she said.

“Yeah, but— It just—” It had meant something to him, Will mused. He wasn’t sure what it was, but it had moved him in ways he couldn’t explain. “I didn’t want you to think I had some plan to seduce you. That wasn’t why I kissed you.”

“It’s okay, I understand. It’s been over for years. And I know you’d never try to take advantage. I guess I’d just like to be...friends?”

“You really think that’s possible?” he asked.

Liv nodded. “Yes, I do. Well, maybe not if you keep kissing me. Or sneaking into my car and scaring the crap out of me.”

“I’m not going to do that again,” he assured her. “Sneak into your car, that is. I make no promises about the kissing you.” He couldn’t resist flirting with her. It wasn’t quite the same rush he’d gotten from kissing her, but it was close.

“Well, I think we can have a cup of coffee without tearing each other’s clothes off. As friends. Old friends.”

“Absolutely,” he said. He put his seat belt on and she started the Lexus. She pulled out of the hospital parking lot and headed back into town.

“Does it feel good to be home?” she asked, her gaze fixed on the swirling snow.

“It’s strange. This town is familiar, yet different. Like you.”

“I feel old. Please don’t tell me I look old.”

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured. “You do look older, but it suits you.”

“You look different, too. Manly,” she said with a soft laugh. “You’ve filled out.” She stole a sideways glance. “Elly didn’t tell me you’d been shot. Twice.”

“She doesn’t know,” Will said. “It happened a long time ago. And it wasn’t serious. Unlike with the bomb, I was in and out of the hospital in a week.”

“Tell me about the bomb,” she said. “You suffered a head injury?”

“An IED exploded behind me. I was wearing a bomb suit, but I was thrown about fifteen feet into a stone wall. I had head trauma and a detached retina. A bunch of broken ribs, a cracked vertebra and a punctured lung.”

“An IED? What is that?”

“Improvised explosive device,” he explained. “A homemade bomb.”

“And this bomb suit. You wear it all the time?”

“No, only when I’m defusing bombs. It’s made of Kevlar and weighs about eighty pounds.”

She gasped softly. “That’s what you do? You defuse bombs?”

Will nodded. “Yeah. I’m in an EOD unit—explosive ordnance disposal. That’s my MOS. My military operational specialty.”

She pulled the Lexus over to the curb and when she turned back to him, Will could see tears swimming in her eyes. He wasn’t sure what to say. Had he caused this? Will reached out and cupped her face in his palm, brushing away her tears with his thumb. “Why are you crying?”

She shook her head and glanced away, but he forced her gaze to meet his. “Why?” he whispered, his heart aching at the pained expression on her beautiful face.

“Because there was a time when I could have talked you out of taking such risks. And now I wonder if I’m the reason you take them.” She drew a ragged breath. “Please tell me you didn’t choose that job because I sent you that letter.”

“I did choose it. But I chose it because it was a great opportunity and the pay grade was good.” He shrugged. “I save a lot of lives. And a lot of limbs.”

In truth, he’d chosen the job because it would force him to focus and he’d thought it would put her out of his head. He’d spent far too many nights thinking about her, and far too many days rewriting their history. EOD had forced him to move on with his life.

Of course, he couldn’t explain that to her. Or the fact that after seeing her again, he realized it had only been a temporary solution. He wasn’t over her at all. No, telling her that would be far too cruel.

Will drew a deep breath. “I could really use that cup of coffee right about now.”

Liv nodded and pulled the car back out into the street. “Me, too.”