Warrior (First to Fight #1)(47)
“I’m not the kind of guy who can give you the white picket fence, but I can promise you that it’s a night you’ll never forget.” Ben’s truth, which he gave me himself. He gave me the best part of himself that night. And it would have to be enough.
“I don’t think so. I’m going to go upstairs and take a shower. You’re more than welcome to stay for dinner.” I move to leave, but he doesn’t budge. “I’m serious, Ben.”
“So am I.”
“Are you listening to a word I’m saying?” I exclaim.
“Not really. Especially not when all that’s coming out of your mouth is bullshit.”
“When did you get so stubborn?”
“I’ve always been stubborn. You just always used to agree with me, so it was okay.”
I square my shoulders, placing my hands on my hips, and give him my best no-bullshit glare. “Well, this is one thing that we aren’t going to agree on, no matter how stubborn you are.”
He moves in closer, going in for the one spot that he knows from experience always makes me weak. He presses his lips to my ear and whispers, “You sure about that, Spitfire?”
LIVVIE LOOKS AT me with wild eyes. I recognize the primitive fight or flight response. The way she wants to protect herself from me, keep the soft, vulnerable part of her hidden. The part of her that I like so much. Her gaze flickers around me searching for a way out.
“I’m not going anywhere, Liv. Get used to it.”
I step back a bit and let her slide by. She sends me panicked glances as she disappears around the corner. Cole bangs on the little playpen for attention. I pick him up, careful to do so by holding his butt and neck the way Livvie taught me in order to not agitate his still-healing wound from his second surgery. He isn’t quite sure of me yet, no matter how much fun we had this morning with the blocks. To stave off the tantrum I can feel coming, I give the kid a handful of snacks I find in the cupboard, which seems to satisfy him for the moment.
After pouring myself a cup of coffee—it seemed a better option than the six-pack I normally down each day—I sit at the island with the little guy and check my email. There are a couple of messages from people I knew in the Corps, the regular spam and adverts. Nothing from the one person I’ve been reaching out to for months now, to no avail.
I zone out, suddenly looking up to find myself in the desert with the body parts of my fallen men around me. The trucks are belching black smoke and cackling flames. Greene has come to and is screaming inconsolably. I can’t hear him. I can only see the ravaged stain of pain on his face. He’s almost white with it and a river of blood surrounds him. My gear and clothes are soaked in it. My vision spots white and I look up to see the smoke of another rocket coming straight for us.
A loud smack breaks me from the waking nightmare, sending shockwaves throughout my body. I tune back in to the present and find a red-faced Cole staring at me, his snack spread out in a wave on the floor. My fingers grip the edge of the table. I take a deep breath, offering up a weak smile.
“Sorry, kid. Was I ignoring you?” I get to my knees and rake up the food with shaking hands. Cole hiccups above me and a tear streaks down his cheek. “We’ll get you cleaned up and I’ll make you another snack. Does that sound good?”
I get to my knees, tossing the food in the trash and the bowl in the sink. I wipe the tear from his face and there, just for a second, he leans into my hand and closes his eyes. The earlier panic melts away and a seed of connection is born between us. I didn’t get to bond with him while he was in Livvie’s belly. I didn’t get to see him when he was born. I hadn’t even quite wrapped myself around the concept of being a father. But touching him, seeing him, having a moment with him, makes our bond real for the first time. That simple wonder is enough to wipe away the cold sweat and the remaining dregs of fear.
He opens his eyes and smiles at me. I smile back. “Yeah,” I whisper. “I think that sounds good, too.”
His second round of snacks taken care of, I hunt around the kitchen for fixings for dinner. There isn’t much to speak of when it comes to food, and though I’d be satisfied with a sandwich and chips, Livvie needs a good meal to keep up her strength.
A few minutes later and I’ve still got nothing. My cooking skills range from MREs to microwavable noodles, but I don’t see any of those in her fancy cabinets.
“Next time I tell you not to sell your car for a motorcycle, maybe you’ll listen,” my approaching mother snaps.
I unbuckle Cole from where he’s happily tossing his snack and watching it tumble to the ground with maniacal laughter.
“It’s not just a motorcycle, woman,” I hear my dad growl. “It’s a ticket to freedom from your constant nagging.”
“I can’t wait until you drive that monstrosity on my driveway. I’ll show you exactly where you can stuff your nagging.”
My mother flounces into the kitchen in a wave of AquaNet and attitude, where she immediately pounces on me. “I’ve given you plenty of time, Benjamin. Plenty of time. Now, your father is under some misguided impression that we should give you two more time to settle after everything that’s happened, but I’ll not be kept from my only grandson one day longer. Or my future daughter-in-law,” she adds with a pointed look.