Bait & Switch (Alphas Undone #1)(16)
“Shortly after I lost my dad, I flew back to Fallujah. I’d been there only a few days when a car bomb was detonated near our post, sending shrapnel flying in every direction.”
Lacey pulled back from her spot at my chest to listen. She could tell that this was the clincher of my story, the freshest and deepest wound.
“Marcus Sutton had a new wife at home, a house with a white picket fence, and way too much on the line. I held his head in my lap and felt his blood oozing through my uniform pants.” My voice shook, and I took a deep breath to compose myself.
What I didn’t tell Lacey was that that was it for me. As the light faded in Sutton’s eyes, a single tear streamed down my cheek. All I could think of was Marcus’s bride waiting at home, just like Mom still waited for Dad. Her heart might have kept on beating, but she’d become a ghost right along with him. I couldn’t even imagine the heartbreak that Finley Sutton was in for. I knew that torment would last for years to come. So right then and there I’d vowed f*ck love. It got you nowhere but broken. No f*cking thank you.
Lacey stepped back and wiped her eyes a final time. “I’m sorry for breaking down like that. I know losing a dog is nothing like losing a best friend, and especially in such a tragic way.” Her eyes met mine, and I could see that she felt my pain.
“Please don’t apologize. I’m glad I’m here with you tonight.”
Letting out a sigh, she nodded. “Me too.”
“We’ll have a good meal, and you can tell me more about Charlie if you want,” I offered.
She smiled sadly. “No, really, I’m okay. It’s just going to be weird walking in tomorrow and seeing his bed empty. I think this is just hitting me hard because I’m homesick. I’m feeling extra emotional.”
“Trust me, I understand loss more than anyone. You can talk to me about it if it helps.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Deciding that the best thing to do was to keep us occupied, I found the butter, greased the Dutch oven standing on the stove, and switched on the heat so it would be ready to sauté. I turned around to grab the onions and saw Lacey watching me.
“What?” I grinned as I poured the onions into the pot. They smoked with a satisfying hiss as they touched the hot butter. “Surprised to see a man cook?”
She blinked, her cheeks turning a little pink. Maybe she’d been staring at me for a different reason. Was she surprised I had a soft side under my thick, war-battered exterior?
“N-not really,” she replied. “I know the military makes you do mess duty and learn some home-ec skills.”
Oh yeah. I remembered that she’d recognized Greyson’s trident tattoo last night. Usually women either had no idea what it meant or instantly dropped their panties.
“How do you know so much about the Navy, anyway? You have a relative who served?”
Lacey tensed. “Yeah, a . . . relative.”
The odd tone to her voice signaled it was clearly a sensitive topic for her. I should probably back off; no point in digging into something she didn’t want to discuss. Especially not with the day she’d had.
To change the subject, I asked, “So where did you learn to cook? Your mom teach you?” I stood back so she could add her brimming bowl of vegetables to the pot.
She shook her head. “No, it was our housekeeper.” She pointed to the steaming pot. “Those only need to sear for a minute. Put them back in the bowl when you see brown.”
“A housekeeper, huh? Was your family well off, then?” I stirred the vegetables in quick, efficient figure-eights.
She forced a little laugh. Her somber expression bothered me more than it should have. “Not really. Dad could have cooked, but he was always working, and Mom . . . wasn’t around.”
Wow, I’m a complete tool. That was twice now I’d stumbled into a sore spot. Usually I was pretty smooth with women, if I did say so myself. My bedpost certainly had enough notches in it.
“Sorry.” I sighed. “That was none of my business.”
She shook her head, and her comforting smile was genuine. “It’s not a big deal. It happened a long time ago.”
Lacey didn’t seem to care how far I’d stuffed my foot into my mouth. And even though I was apparently way off my game today, I realized that I was still having a good time. Being here with her felt so comfortable.
She pulled the raw chuck roast out of the fridge and started sprinkling it with salt, pepper, and spices. Watching her was strangely captivating. But the vegetables were dangerously close to done, so I contented myself with an occasional glance at Lacey’s delicate hands, massaging the seasonings into the glistening roast.
After the meat was also seared and set aside, she pulled out a carton of beef broth and a bottle of red Burgundy to deglaze the pot. “I was going to have a glass of this and watch a movie while I waited for dinner.” Raising the bottle, she smiled—invitingly—at me. “What do you think?”
I grinned back. Now, this was a plan I could get behind.
We transferred all the ingredients back into the pot, slid it into the hot oven, and went to the couch with two glasses of red wine. I sat down barely an inch away from Lacey.
“Are you sure you’re doing okay?”
She took a sip of her wine and nodded. “Yes, I’m really glad you’re here.”