In Bed with Mr. Wrong (13 page)

She stopped at the passenger door. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Just marveling at how goddamn lucky I am.”

As expected, she blushed. “You’re laying it on kind of thick with the compliments.
I already said I’d be your girlfriend.”

“See last comment.” He slid into the driver’s seat and cranked the engine over. As
they cut through the back roads into town, she reached over and laced her fingers
through his.

He was struck by how…nice…this was.

It was almost enough to banish his dread of going to the Diner. On a Sunday morning,
there was bound to be a bunch of old-timers who’d shown up after the early service
down at the church, all willing to share their old battle stories—and
his
family’s stories. It was exactly the kind of situation he’d avoided before now.

But Bri loved this town. And he was rapidly falling for her. That meant he needed
to at least
try
—no matter how much he hated it. So he pulled into the parking lot and braced himself.
Except Bri didn’t move.

“We don’t have to do this, you know.”

She was just waiting for him to back out. To leave. All he had to do was say the word,
and she’d let him take her back to her place and maybe they’d fall into bed and spend
the next seven days tangled up in each other. But he’d have blown his one chance to
prove to her that he was really serious about this.

“I want to.” In that moment, it was almost the truth.

From the look she sent him, she knew exactly how hard this was. “Okay.”

As expected, the Diner was nearly full, mostly of retired folk who used breakfast
as an excuse to gossip about whatever drama had gone down over the weekend. The faded
and cracked red vinyl seats were exactly the same as when he’d been in high school.
Even the old black-and-white tiled floor still sported the stain in the grout from
when Avery clocked Matt Jennings in the face and broke his nose after he dumped her
big sister. Nothing had changed.

They took the only open booth and slid in. Immediately, the waitress, Dorothy, scuttled
over. “Hey there, you two. I’m surprised to see you here. I would have thought you’d
be at the library today, Miss Nave.”

It was painfully obvious she was scooping for a story, but Bri just smiled. “You’re
pulling my leg, Dorothy. You know the library isn’t open on Sundays.”

“Oh, right. Silly me.” She looked from Bri to Ryan and back again, clearly fighting
back the questions she must have been dying to ask. “What will you have?”

They ordered and watched her slink away, as if she thought if she moved slowly enough,
they would call her back and confess what they’d been up to for the last few days.
Ryan shook his head. “This town.”

“It’s just a little harmless curiosity.”

He was saved from responding by Old Joe walking through the door. The only thing Joe
liked better than drinking on his boat was telling stories, and Ryan had all of three
seconds to hope his presence would go unnoticed before the old man zeroed in on them.
“Is that Billy Flannery’s youngest I see?”

He sighed. “You know it is, Joe. You’re not half as blind as you pretend to be.”

Joe chortled and shuffled over to slide into the bench next to Bri. “Good Lord. Miss
Bri? Tell me you aren’t consorting with this here fella.”

She smiled. “Hello, Joe.”

“What’s a nice girl like you doing spending time with a hooligan like Flannery here?”

A hooligan. He was nearly thirty, for God’s sake. He’d stopped being a hooligan when
he graduated from high school. And that wasn’t even getting into the fact that everyone
still referred to him as “Billy Flannery’s youngest” despite the fact that his father
had died nearly seven years ago.

For her part, Bri didn’t seem all that bothered by it. “Ryan is buying me breakfast.”

“Back in my day, when a man buys a woman breakfast, it means something serious.” He
shot a surprisingly serious look at her. “You should know this boy right here burned
down the high school on the very day he graduated.”

Here they went. It was always the same old story. He didn’t even know why he was surprised,
but this was taking it to a whole new level to interrupt his date with Bri to tell
the same old tired story.

Bri’s eyes danced. “I
have
heard that. On several occasions.”

“Well, of course you have. Everyone and their dog in this gossipy little town thinks
they know something.” Apparently the irony of that statement was lost on Old Joe.
“But I’ll tell you something else.”

Jesus Christ. Would it never end? What was next? The stink bomb incident? Or maybe
the time he and Drew jumped their car over the school garden and were suspended for
a week?

“There was a reason that fire started,” Joe continued. “He was there in the first
place because those little Jennings shits thought it would be funny to color the fur
of a cat they found with melted crayons. Our Ryan found out, and he wasn’t going to
sit back and let some bullies hurt a defenseless animal. He got that kitten out of
the fire, see if he didn’t.”

Bri laughed and patted Joe’s arm. “Sounds like a hero.”

Ryan could only stare. He’d never told anyone that story, except Drew. How the hell
did Joe know? Did
everyone
know?

“That boy is, that’s for damn sure. With a pop like that worthless drunk piece of
shit—excuse my French, Miss Bri—he could have grown up wrong. Him and his brother
both. But they didn’t follow in Billy’s footsteps, God rest his ill-tempered soul.
They grew up right. Do you know he has a whole set of awards for missions he’s done
over there in the desert? He’s saved more lives than we’ll probably ever know. Wellingford
is proud to call him our own.”

Old Joe had always been the worst of the bunch, constantly ribbing him about burning
shit down every time he was within hearing distance. To have the same man sitting
here, telling Bri how proud the whole damn town was of what he’d done overseas…

They knew about the cat
. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around it.

Bri reached across the table and took his hand, anchoring him while the world spun,
settling into a new shape he never would have anticipated. “You
should
be proud. He’s a good man.”

“The best.” Joe laughed and stood, slapping Ryan’s shoulder as he did. “But it looks
like that fox Dorothy is bringing your food, so I’ll leave you to it. It’s good seeing
you, Flannery. You don’t come home often enough.”

Ryan looked at Bri. Maybe that was about to change.

After Dorothy dropped off their plates and disappeared back into the kitchen, Bri
lifted her fork. “So you saved a cat, huh? It sounds like your hero complex has been
around just as long as your history of setting things on fire.” She laughed and shook
her head. “I’m sorry. I know it’s a sore spot, but those jokes never get old.”

He braced himself for the instant anger that usually came when someone made reference
to burning shit down. Instead, he said, “I don’t mind.” And, to his surprise, he didn’t.
“After we finish breakfast, I have something specific in mind that I’d like to set
on fire.”

“Let me guess—it has something to do with my panties?”

They finished their meal in relative silence, though it was a comfortable one. After
Ryan paid the tab, he took her hand and led the way back to the Suburban. “Your place?”

“
Please
. I want a shower and some new clothes.” She shot him a look from under her bangs.
“And there’s the added bonus of getting you naked and at my mercy.”

“You’re insatiable.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. “I like it.”

They could barely keep their hands off each other as he drove to her house, and the
only thing that kept him from starting something then and there was the memory of
hitting the damn stoplight and taking out the mailbox. The last thing either of them
needed was a repeat of
that
nightmare.

They had just made it out of the car when a woman poked her head out of the house
next door. “Hey there!”

Bri waved. “Hey, Marcy. How are you this morning?”

“Doing much better. I noticed that you weren’t picking up your papers, so I grabbed
them. Didn’t want the silly things turning soggy—then they’d be no good to anyone.”
She hustled out her door and walked to the little fence separating their front yards.
“Hi, Ryan. I heard you’re back for another week, and I was wondering if you’d come
down to the grade school and talk to my second graders about being a soldier?”

She wanted him to speak to her class? Ryan rocked back on his heels, reaching for
words and not finding any. He caught Bri’s gaze and the excitement there hit him in
the chest. He cleared his throat and looked back at Marcy. “I think I could make that
happen.”

The woman beamed at him. “Thank you so much. I know my kids will love to hear from
a local soldier.”

Bri glanced at him and met her halfway to take the newspapers. “Thanks, Marcy.”

“It was no problem at all. See you at Story Time on Wednesday, Bri. And Ryan, let
me know what day works best for you.” With one last wave, she retreated back to her
door, where a toddler stood with his face pressed against the glass.

Ryan followed Bri inside, his mind still reeling from the invite. Hell, Marcy treated
him like a normal person—a person she thought would be a good influence on her schoolkids.
It was like he’d fallen down a rabbit hole and was told left was actually right.

She stopped just inside the door and stepped into his arms. “Are you okay?”

“She just asked me to come by and talk at the grade school without joking about me
not burning it down.”

“Why are you so surprised?” She cupped his face, her palms soft against his cheeks.
“I’ll tell you a secret. It was your reputation as a hero—not a firebug—that got me
to agree to that first date.”

Before, Wellingford had seemed claustrophobic and cloying. Everywhere he looked, he
was surrounded by people who’d never let him grow up. Now? Now, he was starting to
see some of what Bri loved so much about it. They
knew
him, but no one was forcing him into the role he’d long since grown out of. Not anymore.
Maybe he’d only seen what he wanted to see—the gibes without the caring backing it.

It was all too easy to imagine settling here. Raising a family here. This was a town
where people barely locked their doors. Where neighbors took care of one another.
Where he could create a true home.

His thoughts stuttered to a halt as Bri walked past the living room filled with mismatching
floral couches, pulling her shirt over her head. She paused in the doorway on the
other side of the room and grinned. “What are you waiting for? These panties aren’t
going to light themselves.”

Chapter Seventeen

Bri woke to the sound of whispered voices. She blinked into the darkness, noting the
tension in Ryan’s body. He pressed a finger to her mouth, cautioning her to silence,
but she had no intention of saying something and drawing a serial killer’s attention
to them.

It may be time for her to stop reading all those suspense novels.

There was a thump and a muffled curse. “Shut up.”

“You shut up. How am I supposed to see anything when it’s pitch fucking black?”

“You’re the one who couldn’t wait until a decent hour to come barreling in here.”

Bri touched Ryan’s hand. “It’s Drew and Avery.”

“I know,” he muttered. “But I’m still debating between pretending I don’t know, and
whooping their asses.”

Though she wasn’t entirely opposed to that idea, those two wouldn’t be out here at…
She frowned at the clock. Yeah, they definitely wouldn’t be out here at five in the
morning for anything other than an emergency. Which meant yelling at them was going
to have to wait. She cleared her throat. “We can hear you guys.”

Avery cursed again. “That’s definitely negative stealth points.” They threw open the
door and flipped on the lights. She gave a crow of victory. “Oh my God, Drew! I told
you this would work. Didn’t I tell you this would work?”

“I’m pretty sure this was my damn idea to start with.”

Bri rubbed her eyes, trying to adjust to the light blinding her. She jumped when Ryan
threw a blanket around her shoulders. “Out.”

“Oh please. We’ve seen more skin than that swimming with Bri.”

Ryan’s hands spasmed on her shoulders at Avery’s words. “Get the fuck out, both of
you.
Now
.”

“Jesus. Fine.” Drew grabbed Avery’s elbow and dragged her out of the room. “Hurry
up and get dressed. We have bad news.”

Bad news. That didn’t sound promising. Bri barely waited for the door to shut before
she threw off the blanket and hurriedly pulled on the first clothes she got her hands
on. By the time she’d buttoned her jeans, Ryan was dressed as well. She looked at
him, unable to stifle a little sigh of happiness at how well his shirt fit. Would
she ever get used to those shoulders? She hoped not.

“You better stop ogling me like that, or I’m going to say to hell with those two and
lock us in here for another hour. Or three.”

She winced at the thought of Drew and Avery sitting out in her living room while they
made love. “That’s not the best idea.”

He kissed her. “Let’s go see what the troublemakers want.”

She didn’t want to. She wanted to slam the bedroom door and lock themselves in here
for the last six days Ryan was here until the Twosome went away and took whatever
news they had with them. But that wasn’t reality.

Sure enough, Drew and Avery sat next to each other on her couch, their expressions
sober. Ryan took her hand, but it didn’t make her feel any better about it. “I got
a call from Major Sanders.”

She felt Ryan’s tension even before he spoke. “What happened?”

“He wasn’t in a confiding mood. He said to get your ass back to base, ASAP. Something
about emergency protocol.”

Ryan went eerily still. “Fuck.”

“Yeah, that was kind of my response. He’s not happy that he had to call me because
your phone was turned off.”

Ryan let go of her hand to shove his through his hair. “I can’t imagine
why
my phone would be turned off.”

“I’d like to point out the fact that we were right all along.” Drew held up his hands
when his brother growled. “I packed your shit and booked your flight. We have to hurry
or you’re going to miss it.”

Bri swayed, trying to process the information. She didn’t have a week. She didn’t
even have a day. He was leaving
right now
. She tried to quell the storm of emotions inside her, threatening to break out. How
could Ryan make her promises when his first priority would always be the Air Force?
It didn’t matter what he wanted to pursue with her—they would call and he would go.
Maybe he’d feel bad about it, but he would leave.

Just like everyone else did.

She wrapped her arms around herself and took another step away from him. He caught
the move, because his eyebrows dropped and his mouth fell into an unforgiving line.
She’d seen that expression before, back when they’d still been at each other’s throats.
“Go wait in the car,” he said to Drew and Avery. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Ryan, you’re going to be late for your flight if you dick around too long—no offense,
Bri.”

“
Get out
.”

Avery grabbed Drew’s arm and jerked him toward the door. “Fine. We’ll go. But
he’ll
wait in the car.”

Ryan barely waited for the door to shut behind them when he rounded on Bri. “Whatever
you’re thinking, stop it.”

Instead of addressing that, she asked, “What’s emergency protocol?”

A muscle in his jaw ticked. “It could be any number of things.”

She’d spent enough time with him to know when he was holding something back. “But
you know what this is, don’t you?”

He sighed. “I don’t know anything for sure.” When she just stared, he continued, “But
they wouldn’t be keeping things so locked down without a reason. I’m probably being
sent to replace a PJ overseas.”

It didn’t take much to connect the dots. “Someone got hurt, didn’t they?” Someone
doing the job
he
did. Someone he was being sent over there to replace.

“Maybe. Probably.” He shook his head. “I won’t know for sure until I’m back on base.”

“Oh.” She took a step back, mentally flailing for something to hang on to before she
flew apart.
End things with him. End things now.
“Well, I guess this thing between us has reached its expiration date.” She spoke
quickly, because she had to get this out while she still could, before she lost her
nerve. Or started crying. “I mean, it was a fun little fantasy until reality intruded.
It would have never worked anyway.”

“Don’t do this. I know the timing is shitty, but it’s not the end of the world. I’ll
call you as soon as I know what’s going on, and we’ll figure this out.”

Despite the way he’d said all the right things up to this point, he really didn’t
understand. “Ryan, you’re leaving.”

“It’s not forever. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“For how long? A week? Two? Maybe even a whole month? Then you’ll turn around and
leave again. You will
always
leave.” She hugged herself tighter. “And right now, you’re going off into certain
danger.”

“I’m a PJ.”

“
Which is exactly my point
. The guy you’re replacing might be dead.” Her eyes burned, threatening to betray
her. She cleared her throat, determined to remain in control—at least until she could
make it to the safety of being alone to break down. “I lost the two most important
people to me when my parents died. I can’t go through that kind of pain again. You
can’t expect me to sit back and wait while you risk your life.”

He ran his hands through his hair, looking like he wanted to rip it out. “What am
I supposed to say to that?”

There was nothing
to
say. Against all reason, she’d half hoped he’d reassure her that he wouldn’t always
leave, that he would come through this tour okay—and the next, and the next. But he
couldn’t do that without lying, and she’d rather have a hard truth today than a pretty
lie that hurt even worse in the long run. “Let’s face it—we’re barely more than strangers,
Ryan. The sex was great, but that’s all we have between us.”

The hurt on his face almost made her question if she was right, but then the all-too-familiar
glare took its place. “So that’s all this was to you? Sex.”

Despite her best efforts, a single tear slipped free. “It was nice while it lasted.”

He shook his head. “You’re pulling away because you’re scared and protecting yourself.”

It was so incredibly tempting to agree, if only to give herself the illusion it wasn’t
over. He’d reassure her and hold her and maybe she’d feel better for a little while.
But it would only hurt to prolong this torture by pretending there was a way to make
it work. “
No
. This is how I feel. I never—” Her throat threatened to close, but she forced the
words past it. “I never cared about you like that.”

He stared at her and for one hopeful, terrifying moment, she thought he might tell
her she was being crazy and he wasn’t leaving forever and they could make it work.
But then he shook his head and the moment passed. “You know what? You’re a goddamn
liar. You know good and well this was a hell of a lot more than sex to you, no matter
how much you try to convince yourself otherwise. But that’s okay. Go ahead and keep
lying to yourself. I hope it keeps you warm at night.”

…

Ryan didn’t say anything as he and Drew drove out of town. He was so pissed and hurt
and twisted up inside, he didn’t trust himself to speak without spewing that poison.

There
was
one subject he needed to deal with before he got on a plane. “You’ve been telling
tales.” The only way Old Joe—or any of them—would know about the cat, let alone what
he’d been up to for the last ten years, would be because his brother told them.

“What are you talking about?”

“Bri and I were at the Diner yesterday morning, and ran into Joe. It’s amazing what
that old man seems to know about me.” When Drew stayed stubbornly silent, he continued,
“And right after that, Marcy Travis mentioned that she’d love for me—a genuine hero—to
come talk to her class at the grade school.”

“I’m not surprised. You’re a fucking inspiration.”

Even all these years later, his brother was proud of him, and he’d let Drew down by
avoiding Wellingford. Ryan shifted, looking out the window, not sure how to approach
this subject. “I’m sorry I haven’t been home much. I’m going to work on that.” He
paused. “Thank you. For all of it. I know I never said that before.”

“You’re welcome.”

They drove in silence for the next several minutes. Finally, just when Ryan started
to think the tension in the cab might actually choke them both, Drew slapped the steering
wheel. “Okay, enough with the sentimental shit. What the fuck happened with Bri?”

What happened? What happened was that Bri shot him down more thoroughly than anyone
else ever had. It felt like a vicious repeat of their first night together—she patted
him on the head, told him she had a nice time, and slammed the door on any future
they could have built together. All because she was scared of what might happen when
he left. That was her MO, though. She got scared or hurt and lashed out, keeping everyone
at a distance. He’d thought they were past that shit, but she seemed more than willing
to let this whole damn thing go down the river.

“Ryan, spit it out before you choke on it.”

What could it hurt to talk about it? It wasn’t like it’d make anything worse. “She’s
running scared.”

“Bri’s like that when people get too close.”

Exactly. While he’d been so sure he was getting closer to her heart and having her
actually open up to him, she was just reinforcing her barriers and locking him out.
“She’s being a goddamn coward. Instead of talking through it, she’s hiding.”

“Sounds like someone else I know.”

Ryan glanced over. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Maybe not the hiding shit, but running and hiding are two sides of the same coin.”
Drew looked out the windshield, but there was an odd tone in his voice. “You bolted
out of here after graduation like your ass—not the high school—was on fire.”

Of all the people in the world, he’d expected Drew to understand. He thought he
had
considering what they’d just talked about. “I couldn’t deal with it anymore. Everywhere
I looked, all I could see was the past. I thought I was going to die under the weight
of it.” Or start drinking daily, which was a scarier option considering their father.

“And now?”

“Things are different now. I’ve grown up—grown past it.” Yeah, it had only happened
in the last few days, but he
was
seeing this town in a different light. “What the hell does this have to do with anything?”

Drew shifted his grip on the steering wheel and took the turn onto I-99. “What it
has to do with is the fact that you and Bri aren’t that different. She’s afraid of
being abandoned the same way you’re afraid of always being thought of as Drunk Billy’s
pyro kid.”

“Those things are nothing alike.” He’d wanted people to see him as he was now instead
of the boy he used to be. Bri didn’t want people to see her at all.

“Jesus Christ, Ryan, I know they aren’t the same thing. My point is that maybe instead
of condemning Bri you should try to be a little more understanding.”

“It’s impossible to be understanding when she’s shutting me out.”

Drew snorted. “Then you don’t deserve her.”

“You’re the shittiest advice-giver I’ve ever heard.” He didn’t deserve her? Not fucking
likely. They’d created something special while they were together in that cabin, and
he’d worked his ass off to convince her to open up enough to give him a chance.

“What do you want me to say? I saw your face when we walked in that room. I’ve never
seen you lose your mind over a woman—any woman. So either you’re going to prove her
right by making it a temporary thing, or you’re going to fight for her. Is she worth
fighting for?”

It wasn’t even a question. He’d told her the truth before. Ryan had never met a stronger,
more intelligent, more beautiful woman. Being with her made him feel as if a piece
he’d never noticed was missing had fallen into place, as if he were finally whole.