Five
Dave’s left hand glides over the steering wheel while the right hand reverses the vehicle with practiced ease.
He slips the truck close against the curb in front of my parents’ house, backing into a perfect parallel parking space on the first try.
I’m watching because it’s impressive. No one I’ve met in the Army could park on a narrow city street like this. I’m admiring the skill.
You’re lying, Charity. You’re watching the way his muscles flex.
The truck settles against the curb, and silence fills the cab. Trooper sighs in his sleep, completely unaware that my pulse has somehow found rhythm.
I reach for the door handle.
“Stop.” His voice is low, calm, a holds a hint of authoritative.
I glance over.
“What?”
“Don’t open the door.”
One eyebrow lifts.
“I’m getting it.”
I stare at him for a second before laughing. “You do realize I survived Basic Training.”
“I do.”
“I can open a car door by myself.”
“I know.”
“Then why are we having this conversation?”
The corner of his mouth tips upward. “We aren’t.”
My heartbeat betrays me. He gets out before I can think of a response, and I sit there for a second, shaking my head at absolutely no one. Somewhere between the ages of eighteen and twenty-six, Dave Morgan became the kind of man who opened doors simply because he wanted to.
I wasn’t prepared for that.
The door opens. He offers me his hand. I take it.
The moment our palms meet, there’s a spark, and warmth races up my arm.
His fingers close around mine just long enough to steady me as I step onto the sidewalk.
All at once, everything hits me. The heat of the afternoon.
The weight of Trooper against my chest. The roughness of Dave’s palm.
The way he’s looking at me as though four years never happened.
I’m feeling a bit dizzy, and he catches my arm. I look up, study his face, and then it hits me. “Your glasses.”
He smiles. “They’re gone.”
“When?” I pry.
“About a year ago. Laser surgery.”
I blink, staring. “I always thought your eyes were blue.”
“They are blue,” he confirms.
“No.” I step a little closer before I can stop myself. “They’re a silvery blue.”
For just a second, neither of us speaks.
“I wondered if you’d notice the glasses were gone,” he says quietly.
Heat rushes into my cheeks. Of course I’d notice. I’ve spent half my life looking at him.
He reaches into the bed of the truck for the duffel bag, and it breaks whatever invisible thread connected between us.
“What about everyone else in our friend group?” I inject a familiar subject into our conversation, grateful for a more mundane topic.
“Mom keeps me updated on the neighborhood gossip, but she picks and chooses what she tells me. I think she wants me to plead for information. It’s bait for future calls. ”
He slings the bag over his shoulder as we start toward the house. “Well, Joey’s stationed in Okinawa with the Marines. Stevie’s backpacking across Europe before starting his Ph.D. Joey B. moved to Key West and plays guitar for a living.”
“And Brian? What about him?”
Dave’s smile fades. He didn’t like Brian. He wasn’t nice to me when we were young. “No one’s heard from him in months. He’s not on social media … none of us have looked much further than that.”
The sadness in his voice settles between us.
“I’m sorry.”
“So am I. I didn’t like him, but I wouldn’t want to see anything bad happen to him either. He needed help, I’m guessing. I hope he’s getting it, wherever he is.”
We walk across the street and step up to the sidewalk in comfortable silence, then he gives me a sideway glance.
“You’ve changed.”
“I have?”
He nods.
“You used to be all sunshine and rainbows. A real girly girl. Not so much anymore.”
I laugh. “I don’t know if that’s a compliment.”
“It is.” He flatly states.
I cock my head, “And now?”
He doesn’t answer right away.
Instead, his eyes travel over my uniform, the combat boots, the dog tucked safely in my arms.
“Now you look like midnight and margaritas.”
The words settle somewhere deep inside me.
“Midnight?”
“Darker than the sunshine.” His smile returns, softer this time.
“And Margaritas?”
“Yeah. Tasty, sweet, but’ll kick you in the ass when you aren’t looking.”
I laugh.
He presses in close to my ear, his hot breath skating over my skin. “Are you tasty sweet, Charity?”
The low rumble causes me to clench and I struggle to breathe. We’re walking up to my parent’s house!
I push him away to break the tension. “The kick your ass part is accurate.”
He pulls back, a sexy grin corrupting his full lips. “I know exactly who you are.”
“Maybe, you think you do.” I answer.
“Oh, I do, but…” He remarks.
There’s always a but.
“You might be a bit of a hardass, but you’re still the girl who stops for a scared animal.”
I look down at my chest. “Yeah. I guess I am,” I answer as I press a kiss to Trooper’s head. “Just a big ‘ol softie.”
“I know that, too.”
“Don’t kid yourself into thinking you know everything about me, Dave. I might surprise you.”
His voice is barely above a whisper as the chemistry between us charges the air. “I hope the Army never takes that part of you.”
I meet his eyes. “What part’s that?”
“Your compassion. It’s fucking sexy.”
My throat tightens.
He smiles, and this time it reaches all the way into those impossible silver eyes. “Because that’s one of my favorite things about you.”
For one reckless second, I wonder what would happen if I closed the distance between us. If I stand on tiptoe … and kiss him.
I swallow the thought, tighten my hold on Trooper, and quickly trot up the three steps to the porch and my parents’ front door.