Several members of Ryan’s team had wives and girlfriends. They kept pictures of them, tucked into their helmets or inside flak jackets. Most of those photos were frayed around the edges from all the handling. Some even had the faces all but worn away from stroking, seeking that grounding, that comfort, in the dark, desperate times. Their women were beacons of hope. The thing they were fighting to get home to.
He’d never had that. Never wanted it. Oh, he had plans for finding a woman someday. After he got out of the Army, once he’d used h
is GI Bill to go on to medical school. But that was for the future, when he wasn’t spending his days up to his armpits in battle trauma. When he had bandwidth to think about something other than the mission or the brothers in arms he hadn’t been able to save. As medic, he faced down more death than most, and it was hard not to take a piece of every case with him.
“Where’d your brain get to, son?”
Ryan shook himself. “Nothin’. Just trying to remember how long it’s been since I had an actual date.” A lie, but now that he’d said it, he did wonder. He’d had the occasional bedmate for the night on leave, but the last time he’d had more than a physical release had been…damn. Three years?
“If you gotta think that hard about it, it’s been too damned long.”
As that hit too close to the truth, Ryan turned the tables. “What about you, old man? Have you thought about getting out there and dating again?”
Percy looked at him as if he’d just suggested running stark naked down Main Street.
Ryan couldn’t imagine how hard this had to be on him, but Percy needed to be nudged back into living. “It’s been two years.”
The gnarled hand fisted. “I know how long it’s been since the fucking cancer took my Janie.”
“She wouldn’t expect you to stay alone.”
“That woman was the love of my life. I won’t insult her memory by looking for another.”
Open mouth, insert foot. Ryan ran a hand over the hair he’d managed to get cut yesterday and wished he could take that back.
“What’d Lou say about that truck?”
Oh, yeah, he’d definitely lost ground in this battle of wills. He was grateful he didn’t have to lie. “The part’s on backorder. It’s supposed to be in early next week, so unless you expect me to hitchhike to my mama’s, you’re stuck with me for at least a few more days.”
Percy grunted. “Reckon I can put you to work.”
“Reckon you can.”
“I still say you ought to get your ass out there and find a woman.”
“And where exactly do you think I’m gonna pick up a nice girl for just a week or two?” No reason to mention he was blowing through the lion’s share of his accumulated leave to be here.
“I don’t rightly know, but I expect if you pull your head out of your ass, you stand a much better chance of finding one.”
The ring of the doorbell interrupted whatever sarcastic retort Ryan might have made. Just as well. They needed to get the hell off the topic of his love life. “I’ll get it.”
Crossing over to the freshly repainted door, he tugged it open to find his cutie pie waitress from the diner standing on the front porch.
Santa, you’ve got a helluva sense of humor.
Chapter 4
The cheerful, professional spiel poised on Hannah’s tongue evaporated as she came face to face with the soldier from Dinner Belles, who clearly was not homeless. He’d cleaned up, having showered, shaved, and gotten a haircut. And dear God, without that mountain man beard and several layers of smell, he was hot. A gray henley stretched across well-defined muscles and the close-cropped reddish-brown beard highlighted a strong jaw. Her fingers itched to trace it.
Say something.
“Hi!”
One brow arched faintly.
Okay so maybe she sounded a little like Will Farrell from Elf. But what was she supposed to say to the man? She’d treated him like he was homeless. How was she supposed to apologize for that assumption? Should she apologize? Or was this one of those gaffes she should just let go and pray nobody ever brought it up again? This was not a topic that Emily Post or Martha Stewart ever covered.
“Can I help you?” His voice was a low rumble. Added to the unexpected hotness, the timbre of it seemed to reach out and stroke along her spine.