Not Another Soldier (10 page)

I gulp and raise my gaze to his face.

He raises a brow and grins. “Sienna?”

I’ve been struck dumb. I can’t find my voice. Never mind
that I had Nick entirely naked in my bed not long ago, or that I had him
between my thighs. Nick’s body is not something you can take in when totally
unprepared. You need time to brace yourself for the sight. Especially when
it’s…
wet.

To distract myself, I fuss over the plates and the
coffee and sit down, biting straight into my sandwich and nearly burning my
mouth.

“Geez, Nick, you couldn’t take two seconds to put a
top on,” I say as he chucks the towel into my bedroom and sits next to me, all
muscle, ink and taut skin.

“It’s dirty.”

“So you’re going to spend the day shirtless?”

“Maybe,” he says between mouthfuls of sandwich. “This
is good.”

There’s a crumb hanging off his lip and I want to lean
over and lick it off. My legs shake as I pull on my restraint. “You can’t walk
around shirtless.”

“I don’t see why not.”

“It’s not good manners!” I resist the urge to scream.
He is doing it on purpose, I’m sure of it now. “I offered you a clean T-shirt
yesterday.”

“I’m not wearing one of Rob’s.”

“I didn’t peg you as the squeamish type.” Now I’m
trying to goad him into some kind of reaction.

Nick pauses and places down his sandwich. He swivels
to face me and urges me to do the same. His hands end up on my jean clad legs
and I scowl. He looks so serious. Very unlike Nick.

“I know that Rob and I were best friends but… we
drifted apart. I didn’t like a lot of things about him. I stuck by him but it
doesn’t mean I approved of his behavior, especially toward you. I need you to
know that, Sienna.”

I feel myself fluster a little. Why’s he telling me
this? “Look…”

“Our friendship was one of those that you don’t really
understand why you’re still friends but you just are. We went back a long way
and I always felt kinda responsible for him. We looked out for each other as
kids. But when you two got engaged, his behavior become more extreme. I guess I
hoped one day he’d go back to just being the cocky kid I knew, but he was too
far gone.”

“So why did you put up with his shit then?”

He squeezes my knees and straightens. There’s doubt in
his expression. “Cause I couldn’t leave you alone with him.”

“God, Nick… you’re not my keeper, you know? You can’t
look after me the way you look after your soldiers.” I bite my lip. Does he
feel responsible for me? Maybe he’s not even that attracted to me. People like
Nick are born leaders. The kind of guy who takes everyone under his wing.
Perhaps he wants me under his wing and is mistaking it for attraction. The idea
makes my heart sink.

With a shake of his head, he turns his attention back
to his sandwich. “I want to take care of you, babe, I won’t lie, but there’s
much more to this than that. And you know it.”

And as if he hadn’t said anything poignant at all, he
begins eating again and picks up the scattered remnants of yesterday’s
newspaper and starts reading.

I finish my breakfast speedily, throw back my coffee,
and dump everything in the sink. I have to move away from that naked torso as
quickly as possible. When I go into my living room, I fight not to cry again.
Having Nick here has kind of distracted me from the mess but that crawling
sensation is creeping over me. The one where you know some stranger has been
touching your stuff. People say it all the time after being burglarized. It’s
not so much about the stuff that’s gone missing but the fact there was someone
in your home—the whole invasion of your privacy thing.

That’s how I feel now. It chills me slightly as I
wonder what they were searching for. I don’t get it. Everything Nick said was
right. I’m not rich or important. Why would they trash my place for no reason?

I begin to put my books back on the bookcase,
grimacing as I notice some of the torn pages. Nick comes up behind me and
crouches down to help. He has his old top on again. Thank God. And I must
admit, he still smells good, damn the man.

“They go in alphabetical order,” I say quietly as we
stack the books.

He chuckles but does as I say and soon we have them
all back on the bookcase. We both stand back to admire our work.

“You don’t have to do this, you know? I bet you’ve got
stuff to be doing.”

“Nope. Not a thing.”

I narrow my eyes at him but he gives nothing away. I’m
about to say something else when the phone rings. I dash into the kitchen and
grab the receiver from the side.

“Hello?”

“Mrs. Wright?”

“Yes that’s me.” It’s a man. Deep and gruff. My
stomach twists slightly.

“It’s Detective Matthews from Glenwood P.D. I just
wanted to let you know that we got a match for the fingerprints we took from
your apartment yesterday. A small time drug dealer by the looks of it. An
Albert Hudson. Thing is… we sent someone to pick him up and he’s nowhere to be
found. We’re looking out for him but…” I can practically hear his shrug. A
break-in where nothing goes missing is hardly worth wasting their time
on.  “Any idea why he trashed your place?”

There’s an accusing tone to his voice and I bristle.
What? Does he think maybe it was a drug deal gone wrong? I’m the victim here
and now I’m feeling guilty all over again. “I’ve never even heard of the man,”
I say primly.

“Well, we’ll be in touch if we pick him up. Let us
know if anything does come up missing.”

“Right, okay. Thank you, Detective. I’ll do that.”

The detective offers me a curt goodbye and I raise my
gaze to see Nick standing in the doorway, resting against the doorframe.
“Well?”

“Apparently the prints they lifted were from a drug
dealer.”

Both Nick’s eyebrows shoot up but he remains silent.

“They went to his address but he’s not there. I doubt
they’ll find him.” I snort. “I don’t think they care to find him.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” He takes a step
forward, locks his gaze on mine. “I don’t like this, Sienna. It’s all a little
strange. First you’re attacked and now this. And it just happens to be to do
with drugs.”

“What? Don’t tell me you think I’m involved with drugs
too? Because that’s what the Detective practically accused me of.”

“No, but there’s too many things pointing to
trafficking. It’s something to do with Rob.”

“Shit.” My legs tremble slightly and I lean against
the counter top. “But they must know Rob is dead.”

“Yeah most likely. Look, I don’t know what’s going on
but I don’t like it. You’re going to have to be extra careful until they get
the guy.”

“If
they get the guy.”

His expression turns grim. “Let’s hope they do.
Otherwise we might never figure out why they’re coming after you.”

“Coming after me? Nick, you make it sound like I’m in
the middle of some drug war or something.”

“Babe,” he gives me a stark look, “you
are
in
the middle of something.”

***

I prop my hands on my hips and survey the living room.
Aside from the fact a few vases and candles had to be thrown, it looks almost
like it was before. But something’s missing. The place is too quiet. I try to
ignore the idea that the missing thing is Nick.

He’s staying the night—wouldn’t let me even argue on
that point—but he’s gone back to base to pick up his uniform and some clean
clothes. Tomorrow’s Monday and it’s back to work for him. I’ve still got
another day off. I’m not sure I want it. The notion that there’s some guys out
there gunning for me because of Rob’s behavior scares me, makes me feel antsy.

Especially when I don’t even know what they want. Were
they trying to scare me when they trashed the place? Nick suggested they weren’t
looking for me, seeing as I was gone only a short time. They must have been
watching, waiting until I left. I’m not sure if that’s better or worse. It
appears they were searching for something. I only hope they found it and that’s
it.

Regardless, Nick has volunteered to stay for a few
nights. Part of me is relieved. Now the enormity of it all is sinking in, I’m
not certain I’ll feel comfortable on my own at night for a long time. But more
time with Nick is a really dangerous thing. I can’t even look at him without
remembering his mouth hot on my skin and what he looks like naked. You’d think
one time together would get it out of my system but if anything it’s worse.
Like it’s fed my addiction and now I want more.

And Nick clearly wants more. He’s pushing me
deliberately with his flirty comments. I don’t remember him ever being like
this before though he always was a flirt. But that was when Rob was alive and
there was always this slight distance there that my marriage created. A sort of
respectful boundary. Even if the chemistry had sizzled just behind that
boundary. We’d always both ignored it.

I stroll into the kitchen and open the fridge,
pondering what to do for dinner. I used to enjoy cooking but Rob was not the
best guy to cook for. He preferred a beer and some nachos, but I’ve been hoping
to get back into it. I had all these ideas of digging out my old cookery books
but I quickly discovered cooking for one is a bore. What’s the point in going
to all that effort if you’re the only one who appreciates it?

But Nick likes good cooking. I smile to myself. A way
to a man’s heart… Shit, I don’t want his heart, what am I even thinking? As I
study my bare fridge, I realize I’m going to have to pop to the convenience
store. There’s one around the corner. A week of night shifts means I’ve hardly
got any food. Italian is the way to go. Something hearty like lasagna and
homemade garlic bread.

After taking stock of what I’ve got in the cupboard, I
grab my keys and handbag, and check the lock on my door on the way out. The
locksmith has put in some fancy double locking thing so I’m hoping that means
no more break-ins, though he told me rather dryly that if someone really wants
to get in and doesn’t care about the noise, they can kick almost any door down.
It’s only the law that prevents people running around and breaking into houses
every day. His words weren’t exactly reassuring. It’s kind of worrying that the
stability of society hangs on words written on paper somewhere and the fear we
all might get caught.

I suck in the late afternoon air and strangely feel a
little like skipping. I’m looking forward to cooking for Nick. Maybe it’s the
idea of some kind of normalcy in my weird life. Things have definitely been far
from normal recently. It feels like I’m learning to walk again. On my own. And
everything I understood about my previous life is being slowly eroded away. Rob
wasn’t just an alcoholic or a foster kid or a guy with the kind of charisma
that draws everyone to him. He was a drug dealer. God, I knew he was messed up,
but I never realized he’d gotten that deep.

I smile at the old man who holds open the door for me
when I get to the store and wonder what the hell is wrong with me. Shouldn’t I
be all shaken? Or at least a little freaked out? Maybe I’m still in that kind
of numb zone, but then why am I excited about having Nick around for the
evening? There’s a little flutter in my stomach. I remember it and it’s not
like the flutter I used to have when Rob got home, the one that made me feel
sick. It’s the one that I used to get before going on a date. The one I had
with Rob when we were first seeing each other. The one I know I felt the first
time I laid eyes on Nick. What would have happened if I’d not been blinded by
Rob’s charm that night?

I shake my head and snatch a basket. I fill it with
pasta sheets and grab a jar of sauce. I take my time at the wine aisle and end
up selecting a red. If I remember correctly, Nick enjoys red as much as I do
though he’s partial to beer. Should I get some cans too? No, I ignore the beer.
He’s got work tomorrow and the last thing we need is more alcohol to numb the
senses. God knows, I don’t have enough sense when it comes to Nick anyway. I’ve
just got to remind myself he’s a soldier. He may be nothing like Rob but that
doesn’t mean things would be any different. The job will always come first and
I don’t want to be in second place ever again. If I ever consider re-marrying,
it will be to someone who does nine to five and is home every weekend.

The girl at the checkout cracks the gum in her mouth
and gives me a wan smile as I say hi. I study her hair as she scans and bags my
purchases and ponder dying my hair. Hers is bright purple. Or maybe I should
get a tattoo? I note the one she has on the inside of her wrist and I’m willing
to bet she has more. Nick looks good with tattoos, perhaps I would too?

I laugh inwardly. Perhaps I’m going through that
crisis that everyone warns you about when your marriage ends. The one where you
give yourself a makeover and start dating a younger man.

I don’t think I’ll bother with tattoos or dying my
hair. I hand over the cash and grab my bag. Besides Nick thinks I’m sexy as I
am. Rob might not have thought much of me anymore but Nick doesn’t have any
complaints.