“You don’t feel like a stranger to me, either.”
The words had just popped out of his mouth. This entire interaction with Faith had taken on a charged tone. Something about it felt alarmingly imperative, as if he’d been planning it in some part of his brain he kept secret even from himself for a long time now...waiting for it for most of his life.
When he realized the bizarre direction of his thoughts, he blinked and stepped back. He was not typically a whimsical man.
He was never a whimsical man.
“I should go. It’s late.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh, don’t rush off,” she said regretfully as she wiped off her hands. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m not usually so jumpy—”
He shoved his hands in his jean pockets and gave a polite nod, looking away willfully when he noticed how pretty she was in her discomposure. “I’ll just go get my coat.”
Something had caught his eye as he’d tried to make a hasty exit. He paused, despite his better judgment, and then slowly walked to a bookcase in Faith’s living room. He picked up one of the photos on her bookshelves.
“That was taken at Bagram Airfield, I think,” Faith said from behind him, referring to the picture Ryan held.
He set down the photograph of Jesse and him wearing flight suits and standing in front of the brand-new Raptor they’d just test piloted. As usual, Jesse looked unabashedly, boyishly happy, as if he couldn’t think of a place he’d rather be in the world than in a blistering desert seven thousand miles from his wife.
“Yeah,” Ryan said, turning to face her. The air seemed to hum with an electrical charge. Thus far on his unexpected visit, they hadn’t broached the topic of Jesse or his death. Jesse and four other airmen had been on a search and rescue mission for a fellow pilot who had been forced to eject from his plane. Four of the search team had been killed in an accidental helicopter crash in the Kunar province in Afghanistan, including Jesse. Only the helicopter pilot had survived. Ryan’s wing had been hit hard by the loss of five of their own.
The pilot that had survived had, ironically, been Jesse’s girlfriend, Melanie Shane.
Faith’s smile looked a little sad. “Jesse always spoke very fondly of you. It was obvious how much he respected you.”
“He was a good friend,” he said, searching her face for some sign of what she thought of her dead husband.
“He’ll have been gone for a year in January,” she said suddenly, studying the carpet.
An awkward silence ensued.
“I’m so sorry you lost such a—”
“I can’t tell you how sorry I am for your—”
Both of them stopped midsentence when they realized the other spoke a similar sentiment. Ryan winced slightly.
“You shouldn’t sympathize with me. Jesse was your husband. That’s the cruelest loss of all.”
Faith swallowed convulsively. He wished he could read her expression. “In many ways, the people you serve with are closer than family,” she said quietly. “You spent time with Jesse, day in and day out. You depended on each other. I know how much he admired you. Of course you’d feel his loss deeply,” she said, her gaze traveling over his face.
“Are you still struggling, Faith? With his loss?” Ryan asked, both curious and cautious about her answer.
She bit her lower lip and met his stare. “Jesse was gone for a lot of our marriage, Ryan,” she said in a hushed voice. “It’s not as if I didn’t have to get used to being alone.”
He nodded slowly, unable to unglue his gaze from her lovely face.
“You seem so sad. You took his death really hard, didn’t you?” she asked. He was stunned that she seemed more concerned about his well-being than her own.
He felt a muscle flicker in his cheek.
“I do miss Jesse. But his death isn’t why I’m feeling so regretful right now.”
“Why, then?” she asked shakily, her clear green eyes intent on his face.
* * *
Had it been the tremor in her voice that made him do it? Maybe it’d been the mixture of uncertainty and desire shining in her eyes? Whatever it’d been, Ryan couldn’t have done anything else in that moment but step forward and take Faith Holmes into his arms.