Because of You: A Loveswept Contemporary Military Romance (19 page)

He was damn glad to be out of that bed. It was strange being outside of his hospital room after all these weeks, but the rest of the hospital wasn’t all that different. It had the same sterile smell. The same beige walls. The same faces hustling here and there with trays of pills, equipment, and overflowing file folders.

What struck him most about his first trip from his room was how he found himself scanning the faces of the nurses, searching for one person in particular. Despite the embarrassment of the whole catheter fiasco, he wanted nothing more than to see Jen. After the long hours she’d spent caring for him, it felt wrong to take this first trip out of his hospital bed without her.

He didn’t see her. He should have been relieved after what had happened between them the other morning, but instead he felt a longing. He missed her. And damn him, he wanted to know when he’d see her next. He couldn’t stand not knowing if she was embarrassed or irritated or what.

Despite Carponti rambling on behind him as they wound through the corridors, he kept replaying the scene over and over again in his head. The one where her hand was wrapped around his hard cock, him wishing like hell that it was for any reason other than
a medical one.

“You’re going to have to do something about that little obsession you’ve got going on.” Carponti’s voice intruded on Shane’s self-flagellation.

“What obsession?”

“The one with my wife’s friend. Since when did you turn into such a pussy when it came to women? I mean, I know your wife took everything in the divorce, but did she take your balls, too?”

“Wow, that is really none of your damn business.”

“Sure it is. Your sex life—or lack thereof—is a key component of your mental health. Since you decided to psychoanalyze me, I’m returning the favor. And as your counselor, I’m recommending that you find a way to get her into bed. It’ll do you both a world of good.”

“Are you high?”

“Not nearly enough,” Carponti said with a grin. “But whatever is going on, you need to get on with it or I’m going to think you lost your balls, too.”

Any other time, Carponti’s smart-ass remarks might have been a welcome distraction from the weight of his thoughts. Today they were too heavy. And the closer they got to physical therapy, the heavier they got. He’d never been at a loss for words with his men, but the thought of seeing Osterman ran every thought from his brain. As they approached the physical therapy room, Shane was scrambling for something to say that wouldn’t make him sound like a douche bag.

Guess he’d start with hi and go from there.

“Holy shit, man, I’ve been in your platoon since I was a private and I’ve never seen
you this indecisive,” Carponti said. “Except maybe that time outside Fallujah when I rescued those puppies.”

Shane laughed at the memory and some of the anxiety filling his lungs drained out. They’d been in a perimeter defense position for two days and it had been close to a hundred and twenty degrees in the shade. All Shane could smell was balls and friggin’ dirt. And then along came Carponti, crawling through the dust along the length of the barrier with three mottled puppies sticking out of his assault pack.

“You’re lucky you didn’t get rabies.”

“Or court-martialed. Remember how pissed LT Randall was over that? I still can’t believe he ordered them to be put down.”

Shane sobered at the memory. The whole platoon had been ready to mutiny over the order. General Order Number One, though, forbade pets or mascots. Then brand-new lieutenant Randall had insisted that the puppies either be shot or abandoned.

“I wonder if that Iraqi guy kept them as pets or ate them?”

Shane sighed and rubbed his eyes. “I’m gonna continue to believe he kept them as pets. I’m not going to let you ruin that little fantasy.”

“Speaking of fantasies …”

Shane looked up and saw Jen walking toward them. The moment she saw him, her expression ran the gamut from embarrassed to flushed to surprised. She finally smiled softly and pushed the button for the door to PT, then kept it from closing by standing against it.

“How does it feel to be up and about?” she asked. He caught her looking at Carponti for a little too long, and he felt a tiny spike of jealousy in his blood. He wanted
to get her alone. To ask her what, if anything, she’d felt that morning. He flushed. Of course she’d felt something. Shit, he was a mess.

He hadn’t seen her since his dick had run her off. He wanted to say something profound, wanted to apologize for his erection and the awkwardness that had followed. Instead, Carponti left him sitting by the check-in counter, completely alone and tongue-tied. The long row of chairs down the narrow hallway blocked the view of the rest of the physical therapy floor. He’d have to get past the gatekeepers before he could see if Osterman was there or not.

“It’s good. Different. But good.”

“And your pain?”

“Managed. Kind of a low burn and ache.” He fiddled with the paper he’d dropped onto his lap before he’d left the room. His workout regime. With weights so light he felt like crying.

“Good. We need to stay ahead of it, so don’t get overly ambitious, okay? Mike is going to be your therapist and he’s promised to take it easy on you today. He should be here in a few.”

He loved the way her throat moved when she swallowed. Damn, he was pathetic. He felt seventeen again, with no idea what to say to the girl who’d just touched his dick for the very first time. He cleared his throat. “Will do. We’re looking for one of my guys.

Osterman?”

“I think I saw him a while ago. He may or may not still be here. But let me look.” She flipped through one of the folders.

“Is there any chance you could give me a copy of his schedule?” Shane asked.

“You’re his platoon sergeant, right?” Her eyes sparked. There was an opening, right there. But before he could push through it, Carponti piped up.

“Can you even be in charge if you’re in a wheelchair? I mean, isn’t there some rule about being able to stand in front of a formation? Hell, at least I can stand at attention, right?”

“Shut up, Carponti.” Jen shook her head and disappeared into an office, reappearing a moment later with a sheet of paper and held it out to Shane. He glanced down at the printout of Osterman’s appointments.

A slow burn started in his guts, and then it sparked into something that was at once odd and familiar and terrifying. Responsibility. By taking this single sheet of paper, he was resuming responsibility, no matter how bastardized, for one of his men.

But as soon as the feeling came, so did the realization of all that had changed. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t make sure Osterman made it to formation on time or take him for a run when he finally got a prosthetic leg. He couldn’t do anything but sit in PT with him. Who was he kidding? Carponti was right about him not being a leader anymore. And this little sheet of paper wasn’t going to give that back to him.

He stared down at it. It mocked him for everything he no longer was. He was lying to himself and everyone around him. He had nothing left to give. All he could do now was take.

* * *

It wasn’t her normal habit to leave the hospital on her breaks. Nor was it her habit to seek relationship advice from her friends. But she’d seen the pure terror on Shane’s face when she’d handed him Osterman’s schedule, and she’d had no idea what to say.
The awkwardness from the catheter removal was still hanging between them and now this. She missed the easiness that had once been between them; hell, she’d even take the arguing. Anything was better than this thick silence she couldn’t seem to cut through.

She drove across post, hoping that Laura hadn’t moved out of her office. She knew Laura had given notice, but she was hoping that she wasn’t finished working quite yet. Her friend wasn’t answering her phone, and Jen had been desperate enough to drive the mile and a half to her office on the off chance that she was there.

Things were that much of a mess in her brain at the moment.

“Okay, who died?” Laura asked, when Jen burst into her office. She had a bulky box in her arms and was in the process of organizing folders.

“That’s certainly a cheerful attitude,” Jen said dryly. “Here, I got it.” She lifted the box from Laura’s arms, immediately noticing her friend’s red-rimmed eyes. “What’s wrong?” she asked, as Laura dropped papers in on top of the folders, then set them down on the desk.

“With me? Nothing. What could possibly be wrong in my life right now?” She snatched the box back from Jen and left the office, Jen just steps behind her. “Except that my husband is sexually harassing his soldiers,” Laura continued. “He sends single-word replies to my emails and doesn’t respond at all when I send him pictures of our kids. What could possibly be wrong?” Reaching her minivan, she dumped the box inside, and then slammed the door shut. She sighed hard and rubbed her face in her hands. “And none of that is your fault.”

“Wait, go back to the sexual harassment,” Jen said.

Laura swiped her fingers through her hair. “The rear detachment commander was
just talking with the brigade’s equal opportunity representative. He doesn’t know I heard. But yeah, supposedly, my husband—you know, the one whose been ignoring me—has been trying to screw the one female in the battalion.”

“While I recognize that things are really crazy in the war right now,” Jen said, wishing she had something to do with her hands, “and none of that gives Trent an excuse to ignore you like this, I’m going to go out on a limb and say never in a million years would Trent try to sleep with one of his soldiers.”

Laura blinked and looked away, biting her lips together. “I can’t
not
hear from him. I’m apparently not important enough to him for him to call. I can’t listen to these rumors and not think there’s something to them when I add in everything else that’s been going on. And while I understand that it makes me a stereotypical bitchy army wife, I’m tired of being his second choice.”

Jen wrapped her arms around Laura’s shoulders and squeezed. “He might be at war, but that doesn’t mean he gets to do this to you.”

“If I knew what was going on with him … If he just bothered to explain everything, maybe I could sleep at night. I’ve got nothing left from him but faith that he still loves me, and honestly, I’m running out of that after five deployments.”

“Laura—” A deep disquiet slid through her belly.

“Yes, Jen. That means what you think it means.”

“Laura, wait a sec.”

“No, he’s been gone more than six months. This year. Last year, he was only home for three months. The year before that, five and a half. The year before that, six. Iraq. Afghanistan. It doesn’t matter where he is, because the one place he isn’t is home. He
never did this when he was still enlisted and he damn sure never tried to sleep with one of his soldiers.” Laura’s eyes filled. “I love him, but I feel like the man I’m married to is a memory. I can’t do this anymore.”

Her tears came hard then and Jen pulled her friend close. Her own worries slipped by the wayside as her friend wept bitterly.

Abruptly, Laura pulled away. “And we are not doing this here anymore. I cleaned out my office. I’m done with being the family readiness group leader.… You know, he used to tell me he’d do anything to stay home with me for more than a few months at a time. Now? Now I know that was all just another lie. I’m done with the stupid army.”

“Why now, Laura? Why not just wait till he gets home to work through this?” Jen didn’t know what it was like to be with a man who chose the army over her. She had never sat and waited for the phone to ring, hoping that just a few words would tide her over until the next brief phone call. Divorce happened. Everyone knew soldiers had higher divorce rates than civilians. But divorce while Trent was deployed?

“He’d rather soldier around than be with me and the kids. Amy Kingston—who is on the short list to be my replacement by the way—just asked me how I was able to stand it that my husband volunteers all the time. He
asked
to go on every single one of these missions. He could have moved to a different job or a different brigade or a different post. Instead, he’s been asking to deploy to combat.”

Laura’s words sent a cold chill down Jen’s arms. “Trent’s been volunteering? The whole time? You’re sure?”

Laura’s laugh was bitter. “Unlike her husband, who is a complete asshole, Amy Kingston is the most sweet-natured girl on the planet. I actually have no idea how she’s
going to survive as the FRG liaison, but that’s not my problem. None of this is. Trent volunteered. I quit.”

“Laura, at least sleep on this decision about Trent.” Jen struggled to keep her voice calm, as if she were speaking to a skittish colt.

Laura shrugged and looked away. It was a long time before her voice broke the awkward silence. “I know there’s no forgiveness for leaving a man while he’s off to war, but he’s been cheating on me with the army, and maybe with one of his soldiers. I’m just stepping aside.”

“As much as I hate him for doing this to you, I feel like I should be talking you out of this right now.”

“It’s already done.” Laura offered a watery smile. “You didn’t come here to hear about my drama. What’s wrong?”

Jen shook her head. The fiasco with the catheter seemed so unimportant at the moment. What kind of friend would she be to lay her trivial problems on Laura’s shoulders right now? “Nothing important. Want to go get coffee?”

“Can we spike it with Irish cream? It’s been one of those days.”

“Let me call my boss and yes, we can spike it with Irish cream. But I’m driving.” Jen laughed and guided Laura gently toward her car. At least for the moment, she could distract her friend.

Shane and his erection would have to wait.

Shane didn’t know what to expect when he rolled into physical therapy. He supposed he expected something sobering and depressing. He hadn’t expected cheering and laughter. The small celebration was for a young soldier—no older than twenty-three—who was standing in her prosthetic leg. The joy was contagious, and it slipped in when Shane wasn’t paying attention, buoying his spirits. His heart caught in his throat when the soldier took her first wobbly steps with the prosthetic. The triumph in her face touched him. Deeply. Everywhere he looked, he saw soldiers in motion. Halting, sometimes hesitant, but in motion nonetheless.