The Military Wife (A Heart of a Hero, #1)(62)

“Sure thing, princess.”

Sophie skipped off singing a Disney song.

Darren and Bennett joined the women at the table to pick over the appetizers Allison had laid out. Although the conversation remained superficial, a tension pushed and pulled between Allison and Darren. It was dark and worrisome.

“I would love to book one of your survival weekends, man. They sound awesome,” Darren said between bites.

“No need for you to book one. Winter is slow. How about next weekend? Anyone else from the team around? We could make it a mini-reunion.” Bennett stared at Darren, his brow furrowed.

Allison had straightened and touched Darren’s arm lightly, her gaze pinging between Bennett and her husband. “That sounds like fun. You should go.”

Darren shifted his arm away from her, and a flash of hurt crossed Allison’s face. She slumped back in her chair.

“It would be amazing to get together. I’ll ask around.” Darren peeled the label off his beer. “But I might have to work. You know how it is.”

He had no intention of calling anyone or going anywhere, but no one exposed his lie. During dinner, the kids dominated the conversation, which seemed to suit everyone fine. It made things easier.

While she and Allison loaded the dishwasher, Harper said, “I hate we’re kicking the girls out of their rooms.”

“Are you kidding me? They’re setting up a fairy tent in the den. It’s all Sophie has been talking about. I wouldn’t be surprised if Ryan doesn’t end up sleeping with them.” Allison gave the counters a final wipe down. “I wasn’t sure whether to put you and Bennett in the same room or not?”

“Not.” She shot back to the night before and waking next to his strength and heat and her innards turned gooey. She waited until Allison tossed the rag over the faucet. “Are you and Darren okay?”

Allison sighed and shook her head. “Okay? What does that mean anymore? We sleep in the same bed, but he never touches me. Never wants me to touch him.”

“Is he…” Harper couldn’t even put her fears into words. Allison and Darren’s marriage had seemed so solid.

“Cheating? I don’t think so. It’s more that he’s become sensitized to everything—noises, touch, bright lights.”

Darren needed professional help, but nothing and no one seemed able to make him seek it. The rest of the evening passed in the same vein—tension and anxiety overlaid with a fake brightness. It was exhausting, and Harper was glad when the kids’ bedtime offered her an escape. She crawled into the fairy tent, which was actually quilts and covers thrown over furniture to form a lean-to of sorts, to read Sophie her story.

The four adults climbed the stairs together, Bennett ducking into Libby’s room and Harper taking Sophie’s. Darren and Allison disappeared into the master bedroom and closed the door.

After getting ready for bed, Harper stared at the movable shadows on the ceiling. Her mind bounced between worries like a pinball machine. Her bland, boring life had become anything but.

A noise outside her door had her bolting to her feet, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. She cracked the door half-expecting another foray into the night by Darren. But the hallway was empty. Her heart slowed as her senses strained outward.

The eerie noise came again and this time she recognized the moan as Bennett’s. She flew across the hall and opened his bedroom door. A night-light on the wall illuminated him tangled in a sheet with pink hearts. He tried to escape their cotton prison as his arms reached from something he could see only in his dream. Or maybe he was trying to keep something at bay.

He was bare chested, but she could see pajama pants riding low on his hips at the edge of the sheet. She eased onto the edge of the bed and poked his bare shoulder. When her gentle touch failed to rouse him, she shook his shoulder.

“Wake up, Bennett.” She kept her voice at a whisper knowing how sound traveled through the thin walls. Dropping her face closer to his, she shook him harder. “Wake up.”

His surge to sitting surprised her. He grabbed her upper arms, his grip biting. She squirmed. “Bennett. Let me go.”

His hands loosened, but he didn’t release her. “Harper?” His voice was rough with sleep and emotion.

“You were having a bad dream. Was it the same one?”

“Did I wake everyone up?”

“No one. I wasn’t even asleep yet.” She stroked his sides, smooth skin over muscle.

She tried not to notice how good he felt, but with the danger passed she became intimately aware of their position. She had managed to get herself in bed with him once again. This time she was only wearing an oversized T-shirt and panties. Maybe her subconscious was telling her something.

He ran his hands up and down her arms, the rasp unbearably arousing and soothing at the same time. Her hands moved, too, dancing up his back and bringing her chest closer to his. He was warm and solid.

“Maybe I should stay with you,” she said softly. “Otherwise, you won’t go back to sleep, will you?”

His slight laugh was raspy. “I’m used to bad dreams, but I won’t object.”

He drew her down on the bed with him. It was a twin bed and they lay on their sides, facing each other. She buried her face in the hollow of his throat and pretended her motivations were purely altruistic. One hand was trapped between them, but the other roved selfishly over his body making notes of what made his breath hitch and what made him shiver.