Survivor (First to Fight #2)(62)

I move across the kitchen to her side at the sink. The dress she’s wearing brushes my leg and my body warms. She smiles up at me and all I can think is, Oh, shit.

We’re interrupted by the sound of the back door to the patio slamming. “I’m going to strangle that girl, Liv,” Jack says, grabbing a beer from the fridge. He motions toward me and I nod.

“Relax. You can control yourself for a couple hours,” she tells him.

“I doubt it,” he replies cryptically. And f*ck if I don’t have the same thought.

When Jack leaves again, I should put a careful distance between us, but I don’t. Instead I move to her side and lean against the counter. “So how have you been?” I ask, knocking my shoulder into hers playfully.

“Oh you know, busy as hell. How about you?”

“Same.”

“Well, I’m glad you were able to make it. I don’t think I’ve seen you since before you left for boot camp.” She flicks a glance up at me and the memory of our one and only kiss feels like a physical presence. She blushes and then looks back down.

“My mom was about to kill me for staying away for so long. War I can handle, but that woman is terrifying.”

“Mrs. Hart?” she says. “She makes apple pie for goodness’ sake. She’s like five feet tall. How can she possibly terrify you, someone who is essentially an American Jedi?”

“Has she ever chased you around the kitchen with a barbecue fork because you broke her T.V.?”

Olivia gasps. “She did not do that.”

I hold up my hands. “Swear to God.”

“I’ll have to ask her the next time I see her because I just can’t picture that.”

“You’d be surprised.”

She narrows her eyes at me as if she’s still not fully convinced. “Can you grab some more paper towels for me? They’re just up there in the cabinet.” She indicates the one above her head and holds up her dirty hands.

I stretch over her and my chest brushes against her back. She turns to me and our eyes lock. I find myself leaning toward her when Jack bursts in through the back door again. We spring apart like a couple of guilty teenagers.

It’s going to be a long night.




Her laugh sounds, and even across the distance that separates us, I can feel it in my stomach like a sucker-punch. My gaze lifts from the bottle of beer I had grabbed from the cooler and I find her in the center of the group, her eyes shining and cheeks pink with laughter. I pop the top and chug—both to ease the heat building in my chest and to stop any inclinations I may have about finding out if she still tastes as good as she looks. Bad idea.

The first swallow is smooth, but does little to erase the imprint of her smile. I lean against the deck as I watch the crowd gathered by the gently lapping water. Their voices and the soft crackle of the bonfire creates a soundtrack I commit to memory. Friends, simplicity, home. The simple shit normal people take for granted.

Those are the things I miss the most.

When the constant attacks seem endless, when I haven’t showered or slept in days, it’s nights like these I remember. That I want to come back to, even though I never seem to be a part of them. I’m more of an outsider looking in. But unless there’s a gun in my hand or bullets flying by, I can never quite relax enough to enjoy them.

The irony isn’t lost on me.

I’ll admit, I’m not one to wax poetic about women—in the past, they’d been nothing more than a distraction between assignments—but there had always been something special about Olivia.

Special in an untouchable kind of way.

Her brother Jack nudges me with his shoulder and leans against the deck railing next to me. “Gonna nurse that beer all night, Monica?”

I tear my eyes away from my unabashed appraisal of his sister. “What’s Livvie doing here? Isn’t she supposed to be at school?”

“She finished, man. Starts teaching in August.”

Nodding, I turn my attention back to her. To the summer sundress that’s just a little too low-cut, a little too tight, and a whole helluva lotta tempting. From what I’ve heard from Jack, when his parents adopted her, she gave up the rebellious ways that bounced her from home to home, and tried to tame her wild side. But the little spitfire inside of her often makes an appearance when she’s either pissed off or three sheets to the wind. I have little will to resist the way her eyes snap or the sexy as hell way she cocks her hip when she’s throwing sass. She bites off a comment to her brother and I stifle a groan.

As I think about how much I’m gonna miss her, the firelight catches the red-gold of her hair and turns it into a halo of flames. I can’t help but wonder how it would look spread across my bed with her generous curves steeped in shadows. Her brother chatters on about my upcoming deployment, but I tune him out when Olivia shucks her cardigan and even more of her gorgeous milky skin comes into view.

Silence falls, and I see Jack watching me from the corner of my eye. “I’m sorry, man. What’d you say?”

Jack shakes his head, a knowing look in his eye. “I’m telling you from experience, dude. Love her to death, but you’re about to leave. Not a good idea to go there.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.”

“Good.” He stares at me intently for a moment before turning away. “She’s got a good thing going at that fancy art school. Got her life together. The both of you have shit timing, I swear.”