The Military Wife (A Heart of a Hero, #1)(70)

“Noah loved you guys and loved being a SEAL.” Offering absolution, she touched his arm lightly and tilted her head to catch his eyes. His misplaced guilt faded. “What are you doing now? Are you out?”

“I’m a SEAL instructor.” He chuffed a dry laugh. “We hated their guts when we went through training, and now I’m one of them. It’s crazy.”

“You love yelling at those kids; don’t lie.” The third man, the one she didn’t recognize, held out a hand. “I’m Tag Barnes. I came up a couple of years after these yahoos and served on SEAL Team Three. I’m out now.” Although he smiled, a strain showed in the set of his shoulders and around his eyes.

Bennett exuded a similar tension as if he was on defense against an enemy. Finally, she forced herself to look him in the eye. Noah had worn his emotions on the outside. His happiness or anger or sadness had been tangible. Bennett hid everything away like a bear in his cave.

Standing in the midst of the three men and with Bennett staring at her with a seriousness that didn’t portend well, she had a sense of what Goldilocks had felt like after she had been caught.

In the awkward silence, she said, “I need to use the restroom, if you’ll excuse me. I drove up from Nags Head.”

“Out by the changing rooms.” He pointed back out the door, and she took a step backward. She didn’t sense any welcome or softening toward her in his voice.

She escaped to the small bathroom. It was clean and well stocked. After taking care of business, she stared at herself while she washed her hands. What now? He didn’t want her here. Did she give up and retreat with her tail between her legs?

Her heart felt like it could use a box of Band-Aids and some Super Glue, but if she left without settling things one way or another it would need stitches.

By the time she emerged, the three men had moved to the shop floor and Bennett was talking about his services, making notes on a brochure. She pretended to browse.

“Some of the men will be amputees like me.” Tag pulled up his pant leg and revealed a matte gray metal leg.

“No problem. The terrain is flat, and there are bridges across any waterways. The hard part is setting up a shelter and getting food and water. It’ll be a challenge, but doable.”

“I’ve got five committed.” Alex waved the brochure around. “I have a feeling several more will want in once I tell them about this place and you and show them this. You sure this isn’t too much trouble?”

“Dude, it’s the least I can do. I can line up another guide to come. We can handle up to ten. That number makes hunting more difficult, though. Too hard to keep everyone quiet. If you’d rather split this into two weekends with smaller groups, I’d be game for that.”

“Let me talk to the boys, and I’ll let you know.” Tag tapped the brochure on his thigh.

“My meeting this afternoon should wrap up by happy hour. You want to hit the bars tonight?” Alex asked.

Her breath stalled and she couldn’t stop herself from looking over.

“No thanks. Not my scene anymore.” Bennett’s excuse may have been only for her benefit, but she was grateful nonetheless.

“Dinner tomorrow?”

“I’ll shoot you a text and let you know.”

A round of hand shaking and shoulder bumping followed. Both men offered good-byes to her as well. Bennett walked them to their SUVs, and when he returned he crossed his arms over his chest. The door drifted shut, the chime signaling the start of round one.

“Looks like business is good?”

“I’m donating a trip, maybe two, to Wounded Warriors.”

“That’s amazing.”

“What you’re doing with the coffee business and for those women … You inspired me. I’ve stayed holed up here all alone for too long.” Although his face was still cast in serious tones, his voice had warmed. Between that and his words, she was encouraged enough to come within an arm’s length of him.

“I’m sorry.” The words came easier than she thought possible. “I shouldn’t have pressed you about Noah. I can’t help but want to know what happened, but my curiosity doesn’t trump whatever burdens you still carry from that day.”

“You’ll never ask me what happened again?” The incredulity in his voice was plain.

She shuffled so close she had to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact. “Honestly, I think it would do you good to talk about it, but I won’t insist. If you tell me no, I’ll respect it.”

“I appreciate that.” He dropped his arms but didn’t touch her. Still, it was like lowering the drawbridge over an alligator-infested moat, and she pressed her advantage.

“I don’t want the past to destroy whatever we’re building in the here and now. I’ve been sick with missing you.” She laid a tentative hand on his arm.

He sighed away the last of his defenses, wrapped an arm around her waist, and pulled her into his body. She fisted her hands in his shirt and held him close, her nose buried in the collar of his black T-shirt.

“I’ve missed you, too. So damn much.” His voice was muffled in her hair. “I thought I could slip back into my old life.”

“You couldn’t?” She fished for a bolster to her confidence.

“What I thought was peace was loneliness. It sucked.”