Soldier Mine (Sons of War #2)(22)

“You’re beautiful when you let yourself laugh,” I say without thinking, unable to stop the words that come so naturally.

Almost immediately, she stops and stares at me, startled into silence.

“Sorry,” I murmur without really knowing why. I’ve been a bit more direct with her than I intended, and it’s unsettling after the discussion with Brianna. I don’t want to scare Claudia away. I’d rather be a big brother to Todd than risk her rejection by asking her out. “I’m going to check in with the overly stressed woman coordinating everything. Grab some food and settle in. There’s plenty to do.”

When I walk away, I’m unhappier than I had been talking to Brianna. I want to stay longer with Claudia, to see if I can make her smile or laugh again. The fact I never feared any mission I went on, but I’m scared to pursue anything besides our tap dancing relationship, doesn’t sit well.

Katya is always telling me I deserve to be happy. Maybe I don’t think so, and that’s another thing stopping me. I can’t figure out why I draw back whenever I want to push forward, expect that it’s complicated and insanely frustrating. Because I can see something really good with Claudia, if I take the chance. I’m just not sure I can right now.





Chapter Ten: Claudia


Did I laugh when I shouldn't have? Or make some remark about his leg he took the wrong way?

I watch Petr’s muscular form disappear into the crowd, uncertain why I’m rattled or why I really want him to come back. I shouldn’t. It’s wrong for me to drag anyone else into my miserable life. But Petr …

I haven’t laughed like that in years. I feel comfortable around him and genuinely eager to talk to him. What I can’t figure out: why the hell is he interested in me? Any doubt I had earlier is gone after his comment about me being beautiful.

I face the massive turkey and start to laugh again, recalling his bafflement regarding the ginormous chocolate statue. My amusement fades as I dwell on his claim about having difficulties dating. It’s impossible for me to understand. He’s funny, smart, dedicated to helping others, has an incredible body, and an absolute sweetheart. My stomach is filled with butterflies every time we’re around one another and I end up flustered like a high school student.

Any woman with any sense would be honored to choose a man like him, yet I saw the darkness in his eyes when he said the words. He tried to make them a joke, but I know suffering when I see it. We have that in common, a connection I wouldn’t wish on anyone.

He’s been through a lot. If he’s anything like me, it’s made him doubt himself in every way possible.

I really, really hope I didn’t say or do something to offend him. I can’t risk being in a relationship, but I don’t want to leave him with a bad impression anyway, and it frustrates me. If … when Todd and I have to move on, we’ll never be in contact with anyone here ever again. What does it matter if Petr is hurt by something I said?

My breath catches.

He’s too good for that. He deserves more, and I’m not the person to give it to him.

But I kinda wish I could be.

“Claud, did you try the stuffing?” Todd asks, breaking into my warring thoughts. “It has cornbread in it.”

I draw a steadying breath and face him. Maya is beside him, and they’re holding hands. I nearly squeal at the sight before reminding myself it’s just as risky for Todd to follow his heart as it is for me to. We’re going to have to have a talk soon, and I dread it with every ounce of my soul.

“No, I didn’t,” I say and plaster on a smile. “I need to make a plate. You kids full or up for another round?”

“Full,” Maya groans.

“I’m up for seconds,” Todd volunteers.

“Let’s go!”

Seeing him happy eases some of my inner angst. We both need a break from the shadow that’s always following us. I vow to give him a few days and then to caution him about building too many connections here.

We spend the rest of the afternoon at the community center. I can’t quite bring myself to participate in any activities, but I watch Todd venture out of his cocoon to play video games with other kids his age and participate in an hour long present wrapping event for toys that are then donated to charity.

We leave around seven and return home. Todd is happy and humming all the way back to the apartment, despite the near freezing temperatures that are driving me crazy. Everyone left the center with a gift bag and boxed meal. I deposit both our meals in the fridge and plop down on the couch.

It was a good day, the first in a very long time. My only regret: not having the backbone to talk to Petr again. In the four hours I was there, I had the time and opportunity to find him, but I chose not to.

Todd goes to his room as usual. I can hear him laugh and peek in to see him on his belly on his bed, texting furiously, probably with his girlfriend. I envy him, and the urgency to have the talk we need to have is almost snuffed out by seeing him happy.

For now, he can enjoy a little bit of peace. He deserves it.

Pushing away from his bedroom door, I go to mine and frown. It sounds silly, but I can almost feel the gun in my room. It’s like an ugly, cold snow cloud that freezes out my warm happiness. I hate it and hate more what it stands for – a physical reminder of the impact of what I’ve done to Todd. I’ve dragged him into a nightmare where he fears for his life. He’s turning from a child into an adult and beginning to view the world differently. He’s starting to take matters into his own hands in order to try to mend a reality that’s broken and one he’s sick of.