Not Another Soldier (15 page)

I embrace her and give her an embarrassed grimace.
“I’m sorry I haven’t texted. Life’s been crazy.”

She waves away my apology. “Don’t be silly. You’ve had
to deal with a lot. What are you doing here?”

I peek at Nick, who raises his brows. “Um… I may have
left something behind. I just wanted to check if it was still here.”

“Well I hope not. We had some vandals break in a few
weeks ago. I don’t know what they were after. Mark reckoned it was just trouble
makers as it’s clear the house is empty.”

I share a look with Nick again and I know he’s
thinking the same. It was Big Johnson’s guys.

Jess’s little one, Archie, starts wriggling in her
hold and she offers me an apologetic smile. “I’ve got to put him down for a
nap. Be sure to text me soon, okay? He’ll be going into daycare in the mornings
soon and I’ll be a free agent again. We need to meet up for coffee.”

“I will,” I promise and mean it. A lot of my problems
stemmed from me giving up, I think. I just stopped putting in any effort to
make friends. I’m not going to let that happen again. Jess is kind enough to
give me a second chance and I’m going to take it.

I’m getting a second chance at something else too, I
recognize, as she gives me a quick wave before disappearing into her house. I
don’t know if I can take the chance there. Loving Nick is a much bigger risk.

Loving?

I peek at Nick over my shoulder and he pins me down
with one of those looks. One that says he knows exactly what I’m thinking. And
maybe… maybe he feels the same. My throat tightens and I quickly look away. He
steps forward to unlock the door and the smell of stale air greets us. He
enters first, holding out an arm to keep me behind him as if he’s expecting
someone to jump out on us.

The rooms are dark, the blinds are drawn, but it’s
clear the place has been thoroughly trashed. Glass crunches under my sneakers
as we enter the hallway. I leave the door ajar to let in some light.

“Careful,” Nick warns. “There’s broken glass all
over.”

“God, they’ve really torn this place apart. If they
haven’t found anything, there’s no way we will.”

“You’re probably right, but we should still check.”

Coldness seeps into my bones as we go into the large
kitchen. The cupboards have been thrown open, even the flooring has been pulled
up. I stumble over a loose edge and swear as Nick snatches my arm to right me.
It’s weird to think this was once my house. I suspect even if it wasn’t
trashed, it would feel like a stranger’s home to me. That part of my life feels
so long ago already. I’m not there yet, but you know, I suspect I’m healing.

How much of that is to do with Nick’s uninhibited
loving?

We do a quick search of the kitchen and living room
but I can tell Nick thinks it’s as pointless as I do. Maybe it’s that military
thoroughness that has us climbing the stairs and searching the two bedrooms.

“Stay here,” he orders as we come to the main bedroom
door. “The floorboards are loose. Guess they were hoping the drugs might be
under there.”

“They did a thorough job, that’s for sure.” I peer
around the corner and see the doors hanging unsteadily from the inbuilt
closets, having been almost torn from their hinges. “Be careful,” I plead when
I note the state of the floor.

They must have brought in crow bars as there’s barely
any floor left. Just jousts and discarded planks. Wherever these drugs are,
they must be worth a lot to go to this much effort and to risk breaking into
military property. I guess Rob was in pretty deep.

Nick throws aside one of the closet doors and my
insides curl a little. I don’t know if it’s the empty house, the unpleasant
memories or the state of the place that’s doing it, but I’m almost trembling
now. “Nick, come on. This is a waste of time.”

“We’ve only got one more room to check. Let’s do that
and we’ll get out of here.”

As he turns, there’s a slight crack and one of the
floorboards splits where it’s been pried up. I call out a warning and he grabs
the closet door but it can’t hold his weight and he goes down, the door
breaking away and landing heavily on top of him. A cloud of dust kicks up, I
hear him grunt and then nothing.

“Nick!”

I leap forward and nearly twist my ankle in a hole in
the floor. I steady myself and make my way carefully across the buckled and
warped boards, lit only by strips of light from between the blinds. Nick’s not
moved. Bile rises in my throat as I bend over and heft the closet door off him.
It’s solid wood and surprisingly heavy, but I manage to shift it so I can kneel
at Nick’s side.

I exhale when I see the rise and fall of his chest but
his eyes are firmly shut. When I press a hand under his head, I realize he must
have fallen hard as my palm comes away sticky with blood. Fingers on his neck,
I feel his pulse. It’s steady but the gash on his head is bleeding badly. Head
wounds have a tendency to bleed like mad, even small ones, and I can’t tell how
bad it is in the gloom.

“Nick,” I call softly and shuffle closer.

I have nothing to stem the bleeding with so I undo my
cotton shirt. I try to tear a strip from it but it doesn’t give. Dammit, it
always looks so easy on TV. Giving up, I shrug out of it and ease up his head
so I can support him on my lap, shirt underneath. I shudder but I don’t think
it’s from a chill. Blood seeps into my pale blue shirt.

“Nick, wake up,” I beg, my voice trembling slightly.

As I cradle his head, I stare around. I left my cell
in the car but Nick probably has his. I lean over and dig into his pocket.
Thank God. But when I pull it out, I realize he’s got no signal. I’m going to
have to leave him to get help and I really don’t want to. In fact, the thought
of leaving him makes me sick to my stomach.

It’s at that moment all my thoughts of loving him
don’t seem so far-fetched. I study his strong profile for an instant. He’s been
such a big part of my life, even my marriage, I can’t imagine being without
him. Who am I kidding? This attraction isn’t burning out. It’s growing. But
does he feel the same? Would it be worth all the heartache that comes from
being with a soldier to be with Nick?

I can’t help thinking it would. I’m older and
stronger. I could probably cope with it better now and being with Nick is
nothing like it was with Rob. I know he’d put me first whenever he could.

God, I need to tell him all this.

I wriggle slightly and start to shift him gently off
my lap. I’m still in my bra but I don’t want to take my shirt away from the
cut. I guess I’ll have to make a run to Jess’s house and hope no one sees me.

Before I can lay him on the floor, he moans, and I
hold my breath and listen. His eyes flutter and I give one hand a squeeze as I
settle him back in my lap.

“Nick?” I close my eyes for a second and pray for him
to wake up.

“Am I dead?”

I laugh—a slightly hysterical laugh if I’m honest—and
open my eyes to see his blue gaze staring up at me.

One eyebrow rises as he eyes me.

“You’re not dead,” I say, “but you had me scared.”

“You sure? ‘Cause it sure looks like heaven right
now.”

I note his gaze on my cleavage and shake my head. Here
he is, scaring the hell out of me and all he’s concerned with is perving on my
breasts.

I put on my best stern nursey voice. “You, Mr.
Jackson, have had a bad knock to the head. My shirt got sacrificed.”

He tries to sit up and winces. “Ouch.” He slumps back
into my lap and I brush the hair away from his forehead.

“I do need to get a good look at it really. Will you
be able to get up or do I need to go for help?”

“Just give me a minute. The world is still spinning.”

“You scared the life out of me, Nick.”

“Good.”

“Good?” I exclaim.

“It means you care about me.”

“Of course I care about you, you idiot. You don’t need
to go throwing yourself about and cracking your head open to get me to care
about you.”

He gives me a knowing look, that eyebrow rising again
and I almost groan. I think maybe
I’m
the idiot.

“Just no more heroics, okay?” I order. I can’t bring
myself to say anything yet. What if he doesn’t love me? What if it is only mind
blowing sex for him? I’m willing to take a risk but not
that
big a risk
yet.

“Damn, and here I thought women love a hero.”

“You are a hero,” I remind him.

“Don’t you start too. I always liked that you never
put me on a pedestal.”

I tilt his head gently and am relieved to see it
appears the bleeding has slowed. The red patch on my shirt doesn’t seem to have
grown. “I don’t know what you mean. You are a hero, Nick. A lot more guys would
have died in that attack if you hadn’t kept shooting.”

“It’s just the training, you know that, Sienna.” He
pushes himself up and I keep my shirt held to the back of his head.

“Bullshit.” I peel away the cotton and peer at his
head but it’s still too dark to tell what the damage is. “Are you still dizzy?
Do you think you can make it to the car?”

“Yeah, just give me a moment.” He glares at me. “What
do you mean bullshit?”

“Being a hero is part of you, Nick. It’s just the way
you are. You want to know why I didn’t treat you any different after your
accident?”

We struggle to get him to his feet and he wavers but
somehow remains standing. Quite a lot of his weight is on me but I’m determined
he won’t fall again.

“Why?” he asks gruffly.

“Because I wasn’t surprised, because you hadn’t
changed. You’ve always been like that.” We inch awkwardly out of the room and
onto the landing. The stairs might as well be Everest to me. “Be careful.”

Somehow we make it down the stairs without either of
us falling. My shoulders hurt from his weight pressing down on them and we
pause to catch our breath. Nick leans against the wall.

“We didn’t finish searching,” he grumbles between deep
breaths.

“We’re not going to find anything and you know it.
You’re just stubborn.”

“Says you.” He pulls my shirt away from his head where
he’s been clutching it and scowls. “You can’t go out like that. You’d better
have this back.”

He hands me my blood-stained shirt and I shudder. “I
don’t know. You ought to keep something on it.”

“Just put it on. I’m not going anywhere with you like
that.”

And he thinks I’m the stubborn one. I shake my head
and tug the shirt back on, fumbling to do up a few buttons. Arm around my
shoulder, he sinks back onto me and we stumble our way to the car. I don’t even
bother locking the door behind us. What’s the point? It’s not like it can be
trashed further. Nick mutters something about returning the key but I ignore
him and somehow push his large form into the passenger seat.

“Let me see your head,” I demand as I climb in the
driver’s side.

He obligingly turns and I bite my lip at the sight of
his blond hair tinged with red. I carefully part his hair and he curses. The
cut isn’t deep and seems to have stopped bleeding but he must have taken a hard
hit to knock him out.

“I think we should get you to the hospital.”

“Does it need stitching?” He puts a hand to the back
of his head.

“No, but you’re probably concussed.”

“No hospital.”

I roll my eyes. “You need to get checked out.”

He folds his arms across his chest and leans back
against the seat. I catch his wince as he turns his head slightly to the side
and I know he’s in pain.

“Just take me home, woman. I need to lie down and take
some painkillers. What’s the point of knowing a nurse if she can’t look after
me?”

I smother a laugh at his grumbling tone and start the
car, trying not to contemplate the way he refers to my apartment as ‘home’.
Weirdly, it already feels like home. But only when Nick is there.

***

Nick

I wake to the smell of flowers, or something womanly.
Sienna immediately comes to mind and I groan as my head pounds. Soft sheets
cover me, so unlike my crappy ones back at base. A guy could get used to this
really. I’ve spent so long looking after myself and trying to look after
others, including Sienna, it’s kinda nice to be on the receiving end.

Sienna must have heard my groan as she comes dashing
in from the kitchen and sits next to me. “I’m glad you’re awake.”

She beams at me, pale eyes sparkling with relief and
something else, and my heart twists. The woman is so damned gorgeous and she
just doesn’t get it. For a bright woman, she can be pretty stupid.

I try to sit up but my head throbs in response. “How
long have I been asleep?” I ask as I give up and flop back onto the soft
pillows.

“Only an hour or so.” She reaches over to the bedside
table and pops out a couple of pills and offers them to me.