A Man of Honor (7 page)

Her phone suddenly dinged with a text.
Where are you?
From Preston. She immediately ran to the door and pushed it open. Maybe she could make it back to her car before he saw her.

She ran right into the hard wall of muscle that was his chest. He reflexively placed his hands on her shoulders to steady her, and for just a moment, a desperate desire hit her to stay right there, rest her head against his solid body, feel the comfort of being in his arms like she’d dreamed so many times during the time when he was away. Tell him everything that was on her mind, like they’d done last fall. Tell him how much she’d missed him—missed what they had—and
make
his barriers come down.

For the thousandth time, she had to remind herself that he had thrown their relationship away. Had thrown
her
away. She had to move on for her own self-respect.

“What were you doing in there?” His voice was a low growl.

“Waiting for you. What are you doing out here?”

“I left through the separate exit. You shouldn’t have gone in there.”

“I—I’m sorry. I was getting sweaty waiting in the car, so I thought I’d come inside.” She’d keep the details of her shitty day to herself.

They walked in silence to the car. He limped around to the passenger side and got in, his shoulders set in a rigid line. She started the car and let it idle, let the air-conditioning flood in.

It offered little relief. Cat didn’t know what to do. It was too late to pretend that she didn’t know what kind of doctor he was seeing. He was a proud man, and he’d always hated to show any sign of weakness. She wondered how hard this must be for him, a strong warrior who thought he was infallible, dealing with his leg injury and God only knew what else.

Yet they’d been close once, not so long ago. He’d confided things about his past to her that he said he’d never told anyone, stories about his abusive father and his difficult childhood. She was not going to sweep this under the rug if there was a chance she could help him.

“Preston, I didn’t mean to invade your privacy, but it’s not a crime to see a psychiatrist.”

He squeezed his eyes shut as though she’d delivered a blow. His jaw was tight, set in stone. “I didn’t ask your permission, and I don’t need your approval.”

His words stung. “I had no idea. Or I never would have—” To her embarrassment, she felt the sting of tears, but she blinked them back. It was just the emotional morning, the constant ache she felt being with him but not ever able to get through. Damn these stupid wedding weeks anyway. Damn their ridiculous deception. Damn her stupid heart for still wanting him so badly.

He sighed heavily. “I’m sorry. I was out of line. You didn’t know.”

“If you ever need to talk—”

“Please start driving.”

He was staring straight ahead. “Okay. I’ll drive. But we’ve known each other for a long time. You don’t have to shut me out. You might be surprised at how well I listen. Maybe you need someone to listen.”

The car was silent, except for the blowing fan. At that moment, she would have done anything to help him for the sheer reason that he was in pain. But she had no idea how to get through to him. So she put the car in gear and drove away.

Chapter Seven

Preston would have rather swallowed a box of nails than get into the car with Cat. First he’d had to deal with the bad news about his leg. He’d endured two doctors poking and prodding, discussing and planning. The PT was helping, they’d said, although there was no avoiding another surgery if he ever had hope of functioning semi-normally.

Unfortunately, despite all his hours of intensive therapy, he was nowhere near rehabbed enough to even schedule the surgery. A disappointment he didn’t want to hear. The word “normal” had never sounded so wonderful or so unreachable.

Then he endured an hour and a half session with a shrink, who’d asked him every personal question under the sun. He’d rather suffer a bleeding wound. That had been painful enough, but all of it paled in comparison to Cat seeing him like this. He felt as defenseless and weak as a baby. He hadn’t wanted anyone to know about the psychiatrist. Why her of all people?

He’d snapped at her, and she hadn’t deserved that. She’d done nothing but be on his side, and he’d done nothing since last fall but hurt her. They were driving along in silence when her stomach rumbled loudly. “That’s loud enough to wake a baby,” he finally said.

“We’ll be home in an hour,” she said in a detached, neutral voice. He couldn’t stand to have her feel hurt. None of this was her fault.

In their youth, they’d never really been friends. Derrick was his best friend growing up, and she’d been off-limits as his sister. Not to mention she deserved better than the likes of Preston, who pretended in front of the Kingstons everything was normal despite his home life being something out of a horror movie. Yet, despite a thousand reasons not to get involved with her, there had always been something indefinable between them.

They’d only begun to explore it last fall, before his deployment. Maybe it had been the relief he’d felt at her engagement falling through, but he’d been able to talk to her about anything and everything, unlike any other woman he’d met.

Too bad he’d had to shut the best thing in his life down. He’d had no choice. It wouldn’t be fair to drag her into this mess with him. He didn’t dare encourage her now, but he couldn’t stand to be cruel to her again, either.

“Listen, Cat. I—” Shit, what was he doing? He had to avoid the temptation to explain to her about himself. That would lead to her having sympathy for him, which would make keeping her away even harder. So he stayed on safe ground. “I—never asked you, how’d your interview go?”

“It went fine. Everything’s okay.” She flashed him a bit of a smile, but he saw through it and her falsely pleasant tone. She’d wanted to help him, yet she kept her own troubles to herself. But he could tell something wasn’t right.

“Pull over for a minute.”

She shot him a confused look. “Please,” he said. They were approaching a rest stop, so she pulled off the highway and into one of a long line of parking spaces. He got out of the car and put a couple dollar bills into a soda machine and brought back a plastic bottle of Coke, opened it, and handed it to her.

“Have some. Peace offering.” He tipped the bottle in her direction. Her cool green gaze looked from him to the Coke. Then she took the bottle.

“You’re lucky I’m very thirsty, Guthrie. So I think I’ll take you up on that.”

He watched her drink the Coke. Watched her pretty lips close around the rim and her slim neck extend as she tipped the bottle back to swallow. He wanted to place his lips on the arc of her neck, feel her soft skin, and inhale her clean, heady scent that reminded him of sunshine and magnolias. She took a few hearty glugs, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and handed it back to him. “Thanks,” she said, trying to stifle a burp but failing.

He almost smiled, wondering how a soft, girlie thing like her could make a sound like a truck driver belching after a beer. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I overreacted. I’m seeing a psychiatrist for some issues I’m having after my injury.”
Some issues
was putting it mildly. How about night sweats, nightmares, startling at noises as simple as the lawn mower next door. Not to mention the anger. Hell, he was angry with everyone, especially himself and his effing useless leg most of all. “I wanted to keep it private. My own pride, I guess.”

“Just to let you know, I wouldn’t tell anyone. Your business is your business.” She eyeballed the Coke. “Can I have another sip?”

“I know you wouldn’t tell anyone.” He hated her knowing how weak he was.

He took a swig himself and passed it to her. Their fingers touched as she took the bottle from him. Such soft, forgiving hands. Such knowing, kind eyes, like an angel. Suddenly, he wanted to get lost in her. Feel her under him, looking at him like that and believing that somehow, the broken pieces of his life would eventually come back together. The need punched his gut so hard, he nearly lost his breath.

“Thank you,” was all he could manage.

“For what?” she asked.

“For not being angry with me.” He stared into her eyes, hoping she knew he didn’t mean sorry for the past sixty seconds, or today, but for all he’d done to her over the past few months. A real apology rose to his lips but faded fast.

It would be wrong to dump all his shit on her. Expect her to save him—because she couldn’t. It was a battle he’d have to fight himself. He looked around at families getting out of their cars, headed for the restroom or to walk their dogs on the dog paths. He wondered where they were going. Judging by the carriers atop the car roofs, most of them were on a spring vacation. Forgetting their worries and problems. Lucky them.

“Don’t mention it.” Her stomach grumbled again.

“There’s a nice little restaurant about fifteen minutes up the road. Want to stop and get some lunch? Then you can tell me how your interview
really
went.”

She looked surprised. “What makes you think it didn’t go well?”

He shrugged. “Just a gut feeling.” He had a lot of those with her. Maybe it was something as simple as knowing what it meant when she worried her lip or crinkled her forehead up when she had something on her mind. “Besides, didn’t you say you wanted to check out an antique store or two for a wedding gift?” Her face lit up. He hated all forms of shopping, but by God, he’d suffer through it if it made her forget her own troubles.

She flashed a beautiful grin and handed him back the Coke. “I thought you’d never ask.”

…

“How do you know this place?” Cat asked as they sat down at an umbrella-covered table shaded from the hot May afternoon sun. They were at a sidewalk café on the main street, which was lined with quaint shops. Containers of bright red geraniums hung in rectangular boxes along the white iron fence that separated the seating area from the sidewalk.

“I know this place because it’s got the best burgers in the state.” Preston looked up from the menu. “You aren’t vegetarian, are you?”

Cat shook her head. “I’d love a burger.”

“Want an appetizer?”

“I’m fine, thanks.” Actually, her stomach disagreed—loudly—but she didn’t want to make a fuss about feeling starved.

“Okay.” Preston summoned a waiter, a young guy of college age, who was happy to take their drink and appetizer orders. Preston held up the menu and pointed to things as he talked. “Can we please have an order of your mushroom bruschetta and some of this cheese dip and—what would you like to drink, Cat?”

Cat hesitated as he read off half the appetizer menu. “Water’s fine.”

“Okay. We’ll have two waters and two piña coladas. Thanks.” He ordered quickly and with authority.

She leaned over and asked in a quiet voice, “We’re drinking at lunch?”

“You look like you could use a drink. You still like piña coladas, don’t you?”

She
loved
piña coladas. She wasn’t sure which surprised her more—the fact that he remembered her favorite drink or that he knew she needed one.

After the crappy day she was having, she wasn’t foolish enough to nurse the illusion of being a couple, sitting together outside on a warm spring day, no matter how tempting that was. Truthfully, right now she could sure use a friend along with that drink.

She pretended to read the menu, but she already knew she wanted the biggest-ass cheeseburger on it. That gave her plenty of time to assess him over the top. The irony stung—to be sitting in a quaint restaurant with a man who knew her so well yet wanted nothing—romantically, anyway—to do with her.

She wasn’t the kind of woman to hold his interest. He was a player who’d never committed to any woman. Why had she expected it would be any different with her?

She studied him studying his menu. There was a heaviness that remained over him like a cloud. A crease in his brow, more lines around his eyes, maybe from the physical pain, but she imagined it was from a whole lot more. The more she spent time with him, the more she saw the exhausting weight that seemed to pull at him from the inside. If she could help him clear his inner burdens away, would he want her? Finn and Cat’s sisters would call her a fool, but a sense that pricked at her from deep in her gut wouldn’t quit. Breaking through to this stubborn, powerful man would not be an easy task, but what if she dared to try?

“How do you like your burger?” she asked out of the blue.

“I’m an everything kind of guy.”

“There’s no topping you don’t like?”

“I like all of it, all kinds of ways. Depends on my mood. How about you?”

Cat gulped. Discussing burgers was not sexual. So why was that all she could think about? Also how could she admit to him that the only way she ever ate them was
plain
? “I—I guess I’m tired of same-old, same-old.”

“Another reason you need me to find you a better boyfriend. Maybe it’s time you tried some new experiences.”

Wow, it was getting really warm out here. She used the menu to fan herself.

Their drinks and appetizers arrived. He didn’t hesitate to pluck out a piece of cheesy, mushroom-covered bruschetta and place it on her plate. “So what happened at the job interview?” he asked.

She rotated the menu uneasily against the white tabletop. “I walked out.”

He laughed. A loud, weird,
real
laugh she hadn’t heard in a long time.

She swatted at him with the menu. “Not funny.”

He put his hands over hers, forcing her to stop playing with the menu. His touch was supposed to be comforting, but it wasn’t. It was
electrifying.
She found it hard to focus on his words. “Oh, come on,” he said, his mouth turning up in a grin. “It is a little funny. You’re the most by-the-book person I know. This is completely out of character.”

He wasn’t pulling his hands away. Tingles were zipping up her arm and traveling to other, farther-away parts. It was getting hard to converse, let alone breathe. “It’s not that out of character. I mean, I did lend Maddie five thousand dollars out of my honeymoon account to buy Nick in a bachelor auction. So I do have my moments.”

His hands were big and warm over hers. They felt so good. Wait, what was she doing? She pulled her hands away. He was saying something she wasn’t following at all. “Um, what did you say?”

“I asked why you did it. Left your interview.”

She tucked her hands in her lap where they’d be safe. “I suppose that’s another one of my faults. I tend to believe my gut feelings. Sometimes that gets me in big trouble.” Like now, she was suddenly very aware of his deep blue gaze focused on her and only her. For a moment, their gazes locked. That sent a wash of heat cascading into her face. Every cell in her body went on full alert.

He broke the staring contest and cleared his throat. Could this get any more awkward? “What was off about it?” he asked.

“That’s the thing, Preston. Everyone was friendly. Welcoming, even. They appreciated my experience from Philadelphia. There were equal numbers of women on the committee as well as men. And their paper isn’t in jeopardy of being cut down in size.”

“But?”

“But I wasn’t…feeling it. I mean, maybe I should say I
was
feeling it, in a long-term way. I envisioned myself at forty, sitting behind my desk with my potted plant, rushing to get my copy done for the day.” She paused, looking a little sad. “I didn’t like that image of myself. For no other reason than it feels like it doesn’t fit. Does that make any sense?”

He let out a soft exhale. His face looked pained, as if something she’d said had struck him. “There are times we see visions of ourselves that aren’t who we really are.” He glanced down at his leg.

“How did it happen?” she asked softly.

Their burgers arrived then, saving him from answering. He dumped a load of ketchup on his already-loaded burger and took a bite. At least now she knew how he liked his burger.

“It’s okay,” she said, ready to dig into her own. “We can change the subject.”

He put down the burger and wiped his mouth with his napkin. “I took a bullet for one of my squadron mates. I jumped in instinctively, but I wasn’t quite fast enough to get us both out of the way. It caught me in the leg and shattered my knee.”

“What about your buddy?”

“He and his wife just had a baby girl.”

Her eyes began to tear up suddenly.

He shifted in his seat. “Oh, come on now, don’t cry.”

“I’m not crying.” She swiped at the corners of her eyes.

“I bet you cry at sappy old movies. And weddings.”

“Don’t forget baptisms, baby showers, and bar mitzvahs, too.”

“Well then, get ready to open the floodgates. Want to know the best part?”

“What’s that?”

“They asked me to be godfather.” Then the smart-ass handed over his napkin.

She used it to daub at her eyes even as she rolled them at him. He sat across from her and chuckled.

“You’re a hero,” she said. “Whatever bad feelings you have about the war, at least you know you did a good thing. A really good thing.”

“It’s not the people you helped that gets you. It’s the ones you couldn’t save.”

Their gazes caught again across the tiny table. He had the most expressive blue eyes. The same color as the spring sky behind him, and so full of feeling. Cat could not imagine what he had gone through in combat. She wished she could say something, anything funny to bring the laughter back into them, but words escaped her.