Читать книгу No Surrender - Sara Arden - Страница 11

1

BUT THAT WAS exactly what she was: a stranger.

Kentucky didn’t see or hear anything from Sean Dryden until July, seven months after they said goodbye to the woman they loved.

He’d gone back to his assignment and didn’t email or answer her letters. Not even when she sent him the little notebook of poetry Lynnie had written about him in middle school.

She didn’t know what she expected from him. What was there to say?

Kentucky hoped he was okay, he was safe, and he was processing as best he could. Most important, she hoped he’d realized that Lynnie’s death wasn’t his fault.

She thought about them a lot. The group, the way they used to be. Herself, Lynnie, Sean, Eric and Rachel. But now Lynnie’s brother, Eric, was with Rachel. That wasn’t really a surprise either. They’d been best friends since they were in diapers. It was kind of a natural progression.

Kentucky was happy for them, but there was still an empty place inside her where Lynnie used to be.

And Sean, God, Sean.

She shook her head at her own train of thought, as if that would shake him out of the spot he occupied in her brain. He didn’t belong there, never had. Yet still, he had his own room in her head. He always had. She’d never wanted to take anything from Lynnie, but she couldn’t help the way she wanted Sean Dryden.

She’d dreamed about him the way little girls do members of boy bands. Until it had turned to something earthier in her teens. Something more carnal. He had been her ultimate fantasy. She’d played scenarios out in her head all the time then. Scenarios that involved meeting him under the bleachers after football practice to make out. Or playing Seven in Heaven or Truth or Dare at some party. But Seven in Heaven had been her favorite for a while. If they were locked in the dark together for seven minutes, they were expected to make out. He’d kiss her, touch her, and she’d get to touch him and it would all be okay because it was just a game.

She’d even dreamed that Lynnie would break it off with him and he’d come to her for solace. Sometimes that one made her hate herself because she was wishing to break something that could never be broken or should never be broken for her own gain.

Kentucky rationalized it by saying that it was only in her head. She never acted on it. Never actively wished for bad things. It was more of a passive sort of wishing. Not that it was any better, but it helped her sleep at night in those first years, when she’d wanted him so much she could taste it.

When they’d gotten engaged, Lynnie and Sean, she’d known the rightness of it. Accepted it. She’d managed to stop thinking about him every day. But sometimes she still felt that familiar tug in her belly, the tingle between her legs when his hand would brush hers, or she could feel the heat of his body when he sat next to her.

She knew it was pathetic, but that didn’t stop her.

Now Lynnie was gone, and in a way, she guessed Sean was, too.

It was late on a sticky July afternoon when Kentucky Lee was sure the moonshine cherries she’d been eating while hanging out on the deck of the Shooting Star Honky-Tonk had conjured a ghost.

Sean Dryden, looking as hollow and broken as he had the day of Lynnie’s funeral, sat down in the chair next to her. Its old rusted metal base creaked under his weight, but he didn’t seem to notice. A day’s growth of beard shadowed his handsome face. He had a bottle of her locally sourced—homemade—shine in his hand.

He looked like hell.

And still, he was the handsomest man she’d ever seen in real life.

She offered him a cherry and he offered her a sip of shine.

“I didn’t think that was your speed.” Kentucky pointed her chin at the moonshine.

“It’s not really, but it’s good for what ails you. Isn’t that what your grandmother used to say?”

“She sure did.” Kentucky nodded.

“I like that about you.”

“What?” She looked up.

“No small talk. No accusations wondering why I’m not out playing flyboy.” He said this last bit derisively.

“Playing flyboy? I think what you do is a little more important than that.” As a special ops pilot, it was his job to get operatives in and out of war zones. To move undetected through enemy airspace and ensure the safety of his team and everyone aboard his Black Hawk.

And to destroy whatever operational targets had been provided.

“That’s just it. You’re the only one.”

“I’m sure that’s not the case.” Everyone was mostly in awe of what he did, at least the parts he could tell people about.

“You’d be surprised.”

At the expression on his face, she was reminded of the day of the funeral and all the she-wolves looking to take him down like prey. “So why are you home?”

He wrinkled his nose. “Mental health days.”

“You only got a few days before. It was inhumane. I’m glad you got some more time.” There was no way he could’ve been expected to deal with his loss in the week he’d been given at home before he’d had to return to duty.

“I’d have rather spent it on a beach somewhere. That would be some real mental health recuperation.” He took another swig of shine.

He was so hard, so angry. She couldn’t blame him for it either. Kentucky knew she would be, too.

They passed the bottle back and forth between them a couple of times and sat in a companionable silence for a long moment.

She tried not to think about the heat that burned her fingers when their hands brushed as he handed her the bottle. Or that his firm mouth had been where her lips were, that it was almost like a kiss. It was the closest she’d ever get to something like that with a guy like him.

Guilt surged and washed over her desire, tamping it down to some small, inconsequential thing. But the flame still burned, flickered like a newly lit candle. Kentucky exhaled heavily.

“I just can’t do it.” He tossed back some more moonshine. “It’s stifling here.”

She turned to look at him. The chiseled ridge of his clenched jaw, the stiff set to his broad shoulders, the tension that thrummed through him like a live wire. Kentucky wished she could ease his pain.

And her own.

“I know, right?” She pursed her lips. “I’ve never been like them. Like you.”

“Me?” Sean pushed the bottle toward her. “What does that mean?”

“You know, the kind who fits in.” She shrugged.

“You fit in more than you know. You don’t have to hide who you are to be special, Kentucky.”

Part of her wanted to argue with him, to deny any of the more tender things that could hurt her. But this had been part of her fantasies. That he always knew who she was.

And wanted her anyway.

She swallowed. “Yeah, well, you know.” Great. That sentence didn’t even make any sense. Kentucky shrugged again. “I can do that, too. Shine a light on things you’d rather not see. Like Lynnie’s death.” She fixed him with a hard stare. “It wasn’t your fault.”

He looked away from her. “Yes, it was. There are things you don’t know, Kentucky.”

“Like what? Like you made the road slick? You made her brakes fail? It was a terrible accident that could’ve happened to any of us.” Of course he felt guilty because he hadn’t been here. Logic wouldn’t fix that for him. Only he could make it right in his own head.

“I can’t talk about it.” His stare was focused somewhere out on the horizon. Somewhere he could be that wasn’t here, in this place, without Lynnie. Or that was what she imagined.

She pursed her lips again, feeling them go tight and thin. “You don’t have to. I think I’ve had enough of talking. At least talking about death. Because we’re still here. We’re still alive.”

“Are you sure about that?”

Kentucky mustered up a grin. “I guess I don’t know about you, but I am.” This was what she’d been waiting for. Some grand spark of inspiration, a way to honor Lynnie’s life that represented who she was. Not the Saint Paul Lutheran Ladies Auxiliary version. Lynnie had always been so vital. Her life was like a star, something bright and sparkling.

“Come on.” She held out her hand as she stood. “Let’s get out of here.”

Sean cocked his head to the side and seemed to debate for a long moment. “Screw it.” He took her hand and hopped up to his feet. “Where are we going?”

“Come with me and find out.” She dragged him behind her toward the back of the property, his warm fingers closed around hers.

She wouldn’t think about how good it felt to hold his hand, to have some solid anchor keeping her in the moment. As she drew him deeper into the wooded area, he paused.

“Mossy Rock? You can’t be serious.”

“I’m so serious right now.” She tugged his hand and he followed. “Lynnie loved it out here. Do you remember?”

“Yeah.” His voice was tight with emotion.

Mossy Rock was a place right out of a teen drama. It was the weekend place for Winchester teens in the summer and early fall before the air turned cold and sharp. Mossy Rock was like a backwoods waterslide right into Sutter’s Pond.

It was known for camping, the occasional kegger, bonfires and long summer days spent in the water floating around on inner tubes and sunning on the grass around the pond.

She stopped just at the edge of the rock. “Are you in?”

“I’m not sliding down that rock, Kentucky.” His voice sounded like some sitcom dad, faux stern.

“Then I guess I’m going to leave you here by yourself. Sucks for you.” She pulled off her boots and arched a brow. Kentucky knew that all she had to do was basically dare him to do it and he’d be in the water right after her.

“Not going to happen.”

“Chicken.” She started peeling off her jeans. She tried not to think about her bare legs or to wonder if he’d look, wonder if she wanted him to look.

Or what he’d look like naked.

“I’m not going to do something just because you— What are you doing?” He watched her slide the denim down her legs and her face heated.

“What, did you think I was going to slide down that rock in my clothes? No way.” She’d be in nothing but her underwear. She rationalized that it was the same as wearing a bikini. Nothing less was covered.

He chuckled. “You’re still that same wild creature you’ve always been.”

She met his gaze. “Always and forever.” Kentucky meant to sound lighthearted, but it ended up sounding more like a confession. But that wasn’t anything he didn’t already know. “And I’m not the only one. You may be a Boy Scout, Sean Dryden, but you don’t get to be a special ops pilot by sitting on the sidelines.” She knew that spark was still in him, that fire. It just needed to be rekindled.

“Next you’re going to say to live a little. Am I right?” He shook his head. “Hell, I think you said those exact words to me last time we were all here.” Sean pointed to the top of Mossy Rock. “It was me, you, Lynnie, Eric and Rachel the weekend before graduation. I still hadn’t decided if I was going to K-State or enlisting.”

She smiled at him. “And Lynnie said you were her hero no matter what you chose.”

Shadows of emotion fell across his face. “But you, you told me live a little.”

“And are you?” Had he really enlisted because she’d told him to? That was insane. No one made life choices on an offhand comment made by the one in the group most likely to leave a good-looking corpse.

“I think I meant to,” Sean answered.

“So what are you doing? Come on.” She pulled her shirt off and slid down Mossy Rock into Sutter’s Pond. Things were getting too heavy again, too hot. Kentucky was intently aware of his eyes and everything his gaze touched. Like the sun stretching out rays of heat all down her skin.

She squeaked as the cool water enveloped her and she stayed beneath the dark surface for a time, the moment frozen, her feelings frozen. Under the water, she didn’t have to think about losing Lynnie.

Under the water, she didn’t have to think about Sean.

All she had to do was float. The weight of the water both pushed her down and held her suspended at the same time, or so it seemed to her. It was this strange sensation of nonbeing. But she only stayed there like a movie on pause. She didn’t want to stop feeling; she didn’t want to be frozen forever. She wanted a second where she didn’t have to do anything but float; then she could hit Play on the world again.

She let everything crash back into her as she surfaced. Her loss, her need, her desire and her hope. Her hope that she could cram everything she wanted to feel and experience into this life. It was over much too quickly, like fireworks.

He splashed into the water behind her.

Why had she thought this was a good idea again? Kentucky had only wanted to take his mind off their pain. But her mind was on something else altogether. She turned around to face him and he stood there bare chested like a freshwater Poseidon.

Sean scrubbed his hand over his face and pushed away the droplets of water. He grinned. His biceps bulged, the veins in his forearms raised under his tanned skin. She wanted to touch it, trace those lines up his arm, close her hands around his shoulders and pull him down to— She wouldn’t think about that now. She’d let herself have that fantasy when she was alone in the dark and pretending her own fingers were his.

She wouldn’t think about standing there in her wet bra and panties or the way the water slid down over the hard lines of his face, the sheen of water on his skin or the fact that he was wearing nothing but his issued boxer briefs, which molded to his body... Nope. Wasn’t going to think about it at all. Or the way he seemed to be looking at the lace that cupped her breasts. This could only lead to regret.

Not for her, but for him. He was hurting now and looking for something to stanch the pain. What better way than to get lost in another person? Her skin, her touch, her scent...that contact pushing away all the darkness, quieting the sadness, if only for a time.

But he’d feel guilty for it later—she knew that.

But if he kept looking at her that way, she was going to take him up on it. She’d wanted him for so long, and she didn’t do things like regret. Life was too fleeting. They were both still breathing and as much as she loved Lynnie, she was gone and she wasn’t coming back.

Instead of facing the burn growing between them, she splashed him.

His eyes narrowed and he pounced, catching her easily. He hoisted her high in the air and tossed her. She gave a small squeal of protest, but she loved it. The feeling of flying, no matter how brief, was amazing.

She came up from the water, elated and laughing. “So that’s all it takes, huh? Did you forget I love that?”

“No, I didn’t forget.” He snatched her up again, his broad, strong fingers scorching where they touched.

Kentucky rested her palms on his shoulders, unable and unwilling to fight the heady rush that came from both his nearness and the thrill she got from being flung through the air.

He threw her easily and she laughed again before splashing down into the water.

Sean tossed her a few more times and they swam in the little pond until dusk fell and Kentucky began to shiver. But she didn’t want to stop; she didn’t want this to be over.

Even though the fact that it had to end made it more special somehow.

Her teeth chattered as the night air blew brisk on her wet flesh, but she could shiver and chatter later. When Sean and these moments were gone.

“That’s it for you, Kentucky. You’re going to catch cold. Out of the water.”

“You’re not the boss of me,” she teased, and stuck her tongue out.

“As if, woman.” He shook his head. “No one is the boss of you. Never has been, never will be. But—” he eyed her “—I am someone who cares about you and wants you to take care of yourself.”

She opened her mouth and snapped it shut again, chattering aside. Kentucky really couldn’t argue with that. It was one of the things she adored about Sean. Lynnie’s brother, Eric, had always been the “do as I say” “I’m in charge” sort. He had the same motivation for looking out for their group, because he cared. But Sean didn’t have to stamp his say-so on everything. He didn’t try to make her do anything, even if he thought it was best.

He never tried to crush the wild out of her.

“I suppose you could entice me with a fire.” She nodded to the makeshift fire pit that had been dug next to the pond.

“Hmm. I suppose I could if I knew how to start a fire.” He made a big show of shrugging his massive shoulders as if he were somehow helpless.

“Oh, please. You could start a fire with a piece of bark and a shoelace. Don’t be demure now.”

“Maybe I just want to see how long you’ll stay in the water to spite me.” He climbed out of the pond and headed toward the pit.

She laughed. “It’s not to spite you. If I stay covered, I’m warmer.”

“You’d be warmer over here. Next to me.”

She shivered again, but this time it wasn’t from the cold. Anticipation of what it could mean to share body heat with him, to be pressed up against his firm body...

“Come on, stubborn.”

Kentucky realized she was still standing in the water, staring at him, and he’d already built a small fire.

She bit her lip, indecision holding her back. Kentucky knew what she wanted, but did she want it enough to trade her friendship with him? They were both hurting and anyone who didn’t know where this little vignette by a fire under the stars would lead was kidding themselves.

Or naive.

They were both more worldly than that.

Kentucky had always been one to throw the cards up in the air and let them land where they may.

Maybe she was wrong about how Sean would feel. She’d just acknowledged they both knew how things worked. Maybe he’d take comfort in her and her in him and they could let it be just that.

She crept up out of the water and sat down on the sand next to him. She remembered how they’d all chipped in from their summer jobs to buy the sand to spread so they could have the fire pit. It was the old farmer’s one caveat to letting the kids stay on his property. Mossy Rock didn’t technically belong to him, but no one in Winchester County was going to tell him that.

His arm slid around her and he pulled her down with him. She settled against him, memorizing where their bodies touched and how the heat contrasted with the night air around them.

Kentucky looked up at the stars as they glittered in the velvet sky.

They didn’t speak for the longest time. Just two people clinging to each other in the dark, their chests rising and falling together in unison.

Part of her told her that she could still jump ship. She could make any excuse in the world to hop up and head back to the real world, where girls like her didn’t get boys like him, but she wasn’t going to. Kentucky had already thrown aside caution. Now she’d see what happened.