Nobody's Lost (Rescue Me Saga #5)(11)
His brown eyes smoldered before he stared at the floor again. She’d embarrassed him. Well, from what she’d read and heard, people dabbling in kink was more common these days than anyone knew. The media was all over it. She’d been reading an article about it when Ryder knocked. Not that she’d tried it herself or had any desire to give up control at that level to a man. But having a man under her control might be fun to try.
Oh, she’d let him squirm long enough about the blindfold. “I meant blindfold me with my sleep mask. To block out the sun, of course.”
The relief in his gaze surprised her. Did he think she was flirting with him? She’d never bothered developing such wiles. What man would want damaged goods or a wife who could never…
Don’t go there, Megan.
“What was Adam like when you knew him in service?”
“He was a senior SNCO.” Marines had so much jargon and apparently her confusion showed. “Sorry, staff non-commissioned officer. We were both enlisted men. I was a corporal, several ranks below Top. We didn’t pal around or anything so there’s not much I could tell you, even if I wanted to.”
And clearly he didn’t. “So, then, what was he like as your master sergeant?”
He visibly relaxed and leaned against the doorjamb. “The best there is. He gave it to us straight and wouldn’t ask us to do anything he wouldn’t do himself or hadn’t already done many times before. He put his life on the line to get all of his Marines out of every engagement.”
“I know it killed him that he didn’t succeed.”
His eyelids narrowed. “Did he tell you about Kandahar or Fallujah?”
“No. At the wedding I overheard snippets of conversations throughout the house as I was taking photos. Fallujah was where one of his business partners—Damián Orlando—was injured.” Ryder nodded. “That’s all I know. A wedding isn’t the place to discuss the gory details of war, but given how many military personnel were present, there had to be some.”
The light in his eyes dimmed as though the windows to his soul had just been slammed shut. “The details of his combat history are something you need to discuss with him. He’ll decide how much he wants you to know.” He reached for the doorknob and began to pull it closed as well. “I’m going to take another look around.”
Ryder left before she could say another word. Great. Now she was even less sleepy, wondering what he wasn’t telling her. It must have been a nightmare in Fallujah. She knew even less about Kandahar.
Megan tossed the sheet and bedspread back and went into the bathroom. After a long, hot shower, she dressed and went in search of Ryder.
The smell of eggs cooking assailed her the moment she opened her bedroom door and ventured into the hallway. When she reached the kitchen, she found him standing in front of the stove as he flipped over the scrambled eggs.
“That smells great.”
“I figured since you couldn’t sleep, you might like an early breakfast.” The skylight showed the beginning stages of dawn. She wondered if he’d been planning to serve her in bed if she hadn’t come in here.
He sprinkled liberal amounts of cheese, mushrooms, and chopped peppers onto the surface of the eggs and flipped half of the overstuffed omelet onto the other half. He probably could have eaten the entire thing himself. She’d always been amazed at how much food Patrick could pack away and still never gain an extra ounce.
She went to the cupboard, pulled out two plates, and set them next to the stove. “Thanks for making breakfast. Nothing sexier than a man working at the stove.”
Crap! What made her say something like that?
His hand stilled a moment. “No worries.”
Needing something to distract herself—and put some distance between them—she fixed four slices of toast and poured orange juice into two glasses. The coffee pot was three-fourths full. He probably planned on drinking the brew to stay awake. She poured herself a mug and refreshed his.
The two of them sat at the bar rather than at the table and ate and drank in silence for several minutes before he set his fork down and looked sidelong at her. “When do you want to go buy the new computer?”
She smiled. “As soon as the mall opens.”
“There’s no more remote store to buy one?”
“’Fraid not. Only one in the whole city. I’ll need to buy new software for programs I don’t have digitally and download and install everything again. The sooner I do that, the sooner I can resume some semblance of normalcy.”
He nodded and swallowed a sip of his black coffee.
“Where do you live, Ryder?”
“On a pueblo north of here.”
“You’re Native American?” He didn’t have the coloring or features, for sure. She’d have guessed his ancestors were more central European.
“No. A friend from high school let me stay at his grandmother’s place when I…returned from Fallujah. She passed away more than a decade ago, but we used to spend summers there as teens when he was sent to the pueblo to learn the ways of his people. Lucky for me, his folks didn’t mind having me tag along.”
“How interesting that must have been for you.”
He narrowed his gaze as if gauging her sincerity but soon relaxed. “Actually, those were some of the best times of my childhood.”