The Military Wife (A Heart of a Hero, #1)(52)

“I always have ice cream.” Her mom rose to clear the table. When Harper stacked her plate on Ben’s and rose, too, her mom shooed her away. “Nope. I’ll clean up. It’ll take a jiffy to load the dishwasher. Why don’t you walk Bennett down to the dock? It’s a full moon tonight. Should be pretty out.” She nudged her chin toward the back door.

Once the sliding glass door was closed and her mom couldn’t hear, Harper made a small sound that was supposed to be a laugh. “We don’t have to go, if you don’t want to.”

“A walk would be good. If you want.” He pulled on a Caldwell Survival School fleece zip-up, sounding as stiff and uncomfortable as she felt.

“Follow me and watch your step.” She led the way down the flight of stairs to the fenced-in backyard. The night was still and silent. A wooden swing hung from the limb of a water oak and drifted as if pushed by invisible hands.

A gate at the back let out at a narrow cross street. They walked down the middle. Many of the houses would be deserted until summer.

“Noah never told me the story about the snake,” she said.

“I got to laughing so hard when it happened, the instructor thought I had done it at first.”

“Could Noah have gotten kicked out?”

“Nah. He would have had to run extra. Or maybe the instructors would have respected him even more.” He kicked a loose piece of gravel down the road, his hands shoved into his pockets. “It’s good you let Ben have time with Noah’s folks.”

“Ben loves going down there. Noah’s sisters are all married with kids now and live close, so Ben has lots of cousins. Unlike here, where it’s just me and my mom.”

“He seems like a happy, well-adjusted kid. I’m sure Noah’s folks are proud of the job you’re doing raising him. They’re good people.”

Tears burned her eyes at his compliment. “You’ve met his parents?”

“I went to Georgia with Noah once. Helped him clear some trees for his dad.”

Harper shook her head. “I remember now. I was supposed to go, but it was early in my pregnancy and I wasn’t feeling well. Isn’t it strange our paths never crossed until … after.”

“Not so strange.” The cryptic bent of his tone registered, but she couldn’t decipher it.

The moon provided enough light to avoid potholes. Although it was a mild night, Harper shivered as they drew closer to the dock, the wind picking up a chill from the water.

“Here, take this.” Bennett slipped his fleece jacket off and put it around her shoulders. It was warm from his body heat. A manly combination of smells surrounded her. She put her arms into the too-long sleeves and buried her nose in the collar.

“But you’ll get cold.” Her protest was weak, and if he tried to take it back he would have to pry it out of her hands.

“I’ll be fine.” The dock came into view. “This is the waterway?”

“Currituck Sound, actually.”

The wooden dock had weathered years of winters and storms and hurricanes. The wood was cracked and buckled and in need of a stain, but it had stood the test of time.

She led them to the end and sat on the edge. Her feet dangled over the water. He joined her. The moon was rising behind them and cast ripples of light out onto the water.

“You used to come out here a lot, didn’t you?”

While the fact that Noah had shared intimate details of her inner life with Bennett was strange and backward, the more she was around him, the more she didn’t mind him knowing.

“It was my refuge as a kid, but I’m still drawn down here. I find the sound calms me in a way the ocean can’t.”

“Do you like to fish?” he asked.

“I don’t mind it as long as I can take a book along with me. Sitting and staring at a bobber all day long is worse than watching paint dry. I’ll bet fishing is your favorite thing, isn’t it? You seem the type.” She pulled a leg up and rested her chin on her knee.

“Yeah, I like to fish. You’re not doing it right if you’re staring at your bobber. And lastly, what type am I?” Amusement lightened his voice.

“The patient, quiet type. I’ll bet you win quiet mouse, still mouse every time.”

“It’s been a while since I played, so I can’t say.” His rumble of laughter echoed off the water and faded into silence.

“Tomorrow’s going to be a big step,” she whispered. “It’s been all talk up to now.”

“Are you nervous?”

“Try ‘terrified.’”

He put his arm around her shoulders, and her lean into him was instinctive, her head notching naturally under his chin. “You don’t seem scared of anyone or anything.”

“Then I’m hiding it better than I think I am. Before I walked into your store the first time, I almost talked myself into turning around before I even got out of the car.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.” His admission was so soft she almost missed it.

“Me too,” she whispered back, squeezing her eyes shut.

She wasn’t sure which one of them moved first—perhaps they moved in synchronicity—but her lips were on his cheek, and his hand cupped her nape. The coarse hair of his beard was tactile and arousing. Searching, searching, she was searching. Her lips finally collided with his.