Chapter 15 #2
Before I could say anything, Mama was ushering us inside, launching into a detailed explanation of the meal schedule and asking Eddie a dozen questions about his flight, his comfort, his dietary preferences.
Within minutes, she’d settled him at the kitchen table with a glass of sweet tea and a plate of her homemade cookies, treating him like a favored nephew rather than visiting royalty.
I watched with a smile as Eddie charmed my parents with the same easy grace he showed everyone.
“Your mama raised you right,” Mama was saying to Eddie, apparently approving of his manners. “I can always tell when someone was brought up properly.”
“My grandmother would be pleased to hear you say that. She was very particular about proper behavior.”
It should’ve been awkward—a British prince making small talk with my working-class parents in their modest kitchen—but somehow, it wasn’t. Eddie seemed genuinely interested in their lives, asking thoughtful questions about Dad’s work at the plant, Mama’s garden, the history of their property.
“Bash told me you were in the Marines as well,” Eddie said.
Dad nodded, smiling with pride. “We’re a military family. Every male in our family in the last four generations has served in the Marines, including Bash and his older brother, Glenn.”
The grief descended like a heavy blanket, smothering me and making it hard to breathe. My father’s face tightened, my mom’s eyes filled with tears, and I could only watch, helpless as always.
“I’m so very sorry for your loss,” Eddie said, his voice soft and gentle. “Was he killed in combat?”
I was in awe of him for asking that question. Most people would’ve shut up and changed the subject, too scared of causing more pain, but Eddie seemed to sense they wanted to talk about Glenn.
“He was,” Dad said, pride ringing in his voice. “An IED got him and two others when their truck blew up. But he made us beyond proud, serving his country like that.”
“You should be proud. It’s a selfless thing, to dedicate yourself to defending your country’s honor,” Eddie said, and I could’ve kissed him for how he’d handled that.
“It is.” Dad reached for Mama’s hand, and they shared a look.
“So how are you liking America so far?” Mama asked, letting go of Dad’s hand and refilling Eddie’s glass, clearly ready to change the subject.
“It’s been a wonderful experience so far, and Bash has done a great job of keeping me safe.”
Dad sent me a proud look that I felt into the very marrow of my bones. “We’re very proud of him as well for becoming a Secret Service agent, and even more for being picked for this special assignment.”
We talked a little while longer, and then I checked my watch. Time had flown by, also because of the three-hour time difference, which had not worked in our favor. “We’re heading over to the apartment to drop off our bags and freshen up, but we’ll be back in time for dinner, Mama.”
“You boys drive safely now,” she said, already rising, no doubt to start her preparations for dinner.
Ten minutes later, we were standing in the rental apartment the Secret Service had arranged for us to stay in.
It was nothing special, but it was clean, conveniently located, and it had two separate bedrooms, each with their own bathroom.
I also liked that it was on the second floor and only had one entrance, which made it easy to safeguard.
But it was about as far from the private jet as it was possible to get.
Eddie looked around his room with polite interest, taking in the floral bedspread and wood-paneled walls without comment.
“Your parents are lovely,” he said, setting his bag on the bed. “Very welcoming.”
“They liked you. Mama’s already planning to send us home with enough leftovers to last a month.”
“I’m looking forward to experiencing everything. The food, the traditions, seeing where you grew up.” Eddie paused, studying my face. “You’ve been different since we got on the plane. More distant.”
I should’ve expected him to notice. Eddie was observant by nature, and we’d been living together long enough that he could read my moods better than I was comfortable with.
“Just trying to maintain appropriate boundaries.”
“Appropriate boundaries,” Eddie repeated, something unreadable in his expression. “Right. Professional distance.”
“Eddie—”
“No, you’re right. Of course.” His smile was polite, controlled, the same one he used with professors and university administrators. “I should freshen up before dinner. What time should we head back?”
The conversation felt wrong, stilted in a way that made me want to cross the space between us and explain that this wasn’t what I wanted, that maintaining distance from him was like trying not to breathe.
But that was exactly the kind of thinking that would get me in trouble, the kind of emotional involvement that could compromise everything we’d built.
“Dinner will be at six,” I said instead. “Mama likes to eat early. So we’ll need to leave in about half an hour.”
Eddie nodded and turned toward his bathroom, effectively ending the conversation. I stood there for a moment, looking at the closed door, before heading to my own room and forcing myself to focus on unpacking and getting ready for what was going to be a very long four days.
I quickly washed up, then changed into a nicer shirt. Normally, I’d wear a button-down, but unless I wanted to wear my holster over my shirt—which would upset Mama—I wouldn’t have access to my gun, so that was a no. Home or not, I was still on the job, and despite everything, I took that seriously.
As I quickly restyled my hair, I stopped for a moment.
It was hard to look at myself and not see Glenn, as we had looked so much alike.
Same hair color, same eye color, same square face.
He’d been heavier than me, more muscled, but the genetic relationship between us had been obvious.
We’d run into each other a few times, had served in the same area for eight weeks once.
Everyone from both our units had commented on the resemblance.
He should’ve been here for this. Hell, he should’ve been the one bringing someone home to meet the family, the one making Mama fuss over having enough food and whether the guest room was comfortable enough.
Instead, it was me, bringing home a prince I couldn’t have while pretending our relationship was purely professional.
Glenn would’ve found the irony hilarious, probably would’ve had some smart comment about the complications I created for myself.
But Glenn wasn’t here, would never be here again, and I was going to have to find a way to get through this visit without losing what remained of my professional composure.
Even if it killed me.