Not Another Soldier (3 page)

“Thanks for being here, Nick,” I say quietly.

“Where else would I be?”

“I don’t know. Not hanging out with someone so
pathetic.”

The numbness seems to be wearing off and I remember I
need to return to an empty house. I feel pathetic. Pathetic that I couldn’t
keep my husband happy. They say don’t blame yourself in relationships like we
had, but you can’t help it. You wonder why you weren’t good enough. What was it
that made them cheat and… and lash out.

I swallow as a knot forms in my throat. It only
happened once. He was drunk, as usual, and I don’t even know what I did—maybe I
said something wrong—and the scariest expression I’ve ever seen came over his
handsome face. His dark eyes filled with utter hatred and his hands went about
my neck, crushing and painful.

I kicked out at him, barely doing any damage but it
seemed to break his rage. Rob dropped me and stormed out. I’d planned to leave.
It was the breaking point. How did it go so wrong?

A few days later the police came knocking, telling me
he was dead.

“You’re not pathetic, Sienna. You’re an amazing woman.
You work hard and I know you worked hard at your marriage too. But it can only
work if both of you are putting in the time. Rob didn’t deserve you.”

I glance at him, mouth slightly ajar. I swear this man
reads me better than anyone. His words make my heart swell at the same time as
bringing all my emotions to the surface. Tears sting and I can’t hold them
back. They trickle down my cheeks at first and then pour down. Nick takes me
immediately into his arms, presses my head against his warm chest. My tears are
probably making his shirt damp, but I can’t stop them.

I can’t tell if it’s Rob’s death, my failed marriage
or my loss of confidence I’m crying for. It’s so many things. It’s how confused
I feel. It’s how weak I am. I let life take over and now I’ve got nothing left.
Life happened to me and my decisions crushed me. I wish I could start over.

Nick’s cologne works through my tears and I inhale
deeply, though it comes out more of a snort. I’m beyond caring. I grip his arms
and continue to cry, small sobs this time. He’s murmuring things, I don’t know
what, but I enjoy hearing the rumble of his voice in his chest. His fingers are
rubbing across my hair. He’s not very gentle but that’s okay, I like it. It
kind of distracts me from my confusion. With the heat and smell of him, my
sorrow eases and I draw slowly away, grimacing at the sight of my mascara
staining his shirt.

I swipe a hand across my cheek while he brushes my
hair back. “I’m a mess,” I sniffle.

“No, you’re beautiful.”

I don’t believe him but he says it so sincerely that
it softens me, and I can’t prevent the tiniest of smiles. His palms still rub
across my cheeks, a thumb coming under my eye, probably in an attempt to fix my
make-up.

Staring into his blue eyes, my pulse beats
erratically. For a moment, there is no one but us. Sounds are muted but
sensations are inflamed. His rough fingers rasp across my skin, making my
entire body heat and I’m sure he must be able to hear my heart thud. Nick’s
pupils dilate. Do mine do the same?

It happens slowly, but I’m still not ready for it. He
lowers his head and his lips touch mine. It galvanizes me, like a sharp
electric shock and I dig my nails into his shoulders. It’s only a small,
tentative kiss but it might as well be the most passionate kiss in the world
for the effect it has on me. His tongue, warm and inviting, touches my lips and
we are on the path of no return.

I gasp and open my mouth to him. Nick threads his
fingers into my hair, angling me for a deeper kiss. When our tongues touch, he
makes a basic, raw sound in the back of his throat. I’m not sure what he was
eating or drinking but he tastes amazing. Like chocolate after you’ve been on a
diet.

This isn’t a tender kiss. It quickly turns
erotic.  My mind reels and I’m unable to focus on any coherent thought
apart from the press of his chest against mine and the way my nipples harden at
the contact. I bring my hands up to his jawline and touch the stubble there. He
mutters my name as he pulls back slightly, only to plunder my mouth again. The
sound of it on his lips, so harsh and desperate, makes my entire body pulse
with need.

Breathless, I hold on as the kiss slows and he takes a
moment to explore each part of my mouth to… to savor me?

When we finally part, my lips throb, along with the
rest of me, and we are both panting for breath. He flattens his forehead
against mine and we just sit for a moment as he cradles my face. I don’t want
it to end. I don’t want to go back to my life. But I don’t want this. I
can’t
do this.

We’ve finally acted on the chemistry between us, in a
moment of shared weakness and vulnerability, and it was such a mistake.

Maybe Nick knows this as he pulls back slowly,
flicking a thumb under my chin. “Come on, we best get you home.”

Nick

I blink away the sweat as I lift again. My muscles
scream in protest and if my brow wasn’t dripping, I’d be able to see my grimace
in the mirror stretching across the gym wall. The odor of old sneakers and
metal grows stronger with each harsh inhale I take, but I savor it. To me, it
smells like home. And life. There was a time I didn’t think I’d smell it ever
again.

The drops making my shirt cling to my chest remind me
of Sienna’s tears as they soaked my shirt after the funeral. If I had it my
way, she’d never cry again. I lift once more, teeth gritted, arms shaking. I
know full well the pain will be worth it. I’ve suffered worse. Hell, once no
one believed I’d stand again and now look, I’m fitter than I’ve ever been.

Lowering the weights, I pause to swipe my brow with my
T-shirt. I take a moment to study my arms, pumped from the workout. I ignore my
chewed up calf. The gym at base is the only place you’ll catch me in shorts.
The guys here understand it and have seen far worse but no civvie wants to see
the ugly scar tissue on my leg where the shrapnel gouged a hole in it. Looks of
sympathy I could do without. Because really, why should anyone feel sorry for
me? I made it back alive. It’s the guys that died and their families who
deserve the compassion.

I smirk at my reflection. Besides, who wants to be the
one guy who complains about his injury? I know Marines who have had their legs
blown off and still manage to climb a fucking mountain. What do I do? Push
papers. Most of the time, I’m grateful to still be a part of the military.
Maybe I’m institutionalized, because the idea of being on the outside, in
civilian life, doesn’t exactly fill me with joy.

But days like today—when I’m wired and edgy—are when
I’d like to be out there, on patrol, eating damned sand, hunting down the
enemy. The need to fight will pass eventually. Weirdly, it only seems to go
when I’m with Sienna.

Taking a drink of water, I stroll over to the benches
and snatch my gym bag, chucking the bottle in it and reaching for my phone. I
read her message again, my heart jumping in my chest. She’s played it cool
since our kiss, and I’ve barely kept mine. The memory of those soft lips, warm
tongue and hot perky breasts pressed against me has kept me up every night
since.

Sienna. I swear almost just saying her name in my mind
makes me hard. And that was before I kissed her. I should never have been
thinking of Rob’s wife that way and I always did my best to remain a gentleman,
but he never treated her right. He cheated on her, ignored her, spoke to her
like shit and, the sweet thing that she is, she just took it. I almost want to
punish myself with another workout when I think about how much I let him get
away with. You find yourself torn when it’s a fellow Marine, especially when
it’s one you grew up with.

I head for the showers and let the stinging cold water
beat over me, maybe thinking of it as penance for not acting sooner. Rob and I
had been friends since we were seven. We played at being soldiers. It’s all we
ever talked of. But Rob changed and grew into someone I didn’t recognize. It
was probably only after my accident that I realized just how bad it had gotten.
Then spending time with Sienna sealed it for me. Rob didn’t deserve her and I needed
her. But how could I turn on a brother? How could I break up a marriage and
take Rob’s place? I was still half a fucking man with my mangled leg and if I
was the one who broke things, how would I know Sienna really wanted me? I
needed her to make the decision. The day she told me she was leaving him was
the best day of my life. And then Rob got himself killed.

Grimacing as I step out onto the dirty changing room
floor, I towel off and change into jeans and a clean T-shirt. I spray on a
little cologne and grab my gym bag before heading straight to my car.

Today is the start of me putting things right. His
death has made things easier in some ways. No messy divorce for her to deal
with but a whole host of demons instead. I’m not sure Sienna ever realized
quite how screwed up Rob was. Too busy looking for the best in him—or at least
hoping for it. As I climb in my Jeep and chuck the bag on the back seat, I
admit to myself that it’s one of the things I love about her. She was one of
the few who still saw me as a man and not a cripple or a damned hero after the
accident. She still saw Nick.

It takes me longer than I’d like to navigate the city
traffic. The thought of her so far away from me makes my skin itch. I park up
in front of her apartment building and climb out, palms slightly sticky.

Damn, I think I’d rather be back out in Afghanistan,
facing the Taliban, than doing this. What a coward. But I need to see Sienna
again. It’s been three weeks and it feels like a lifetime. I could kick myself
for what I did but I can’t regret it. I mean kissing her just after she’d
buried her husband was not my smartest idea, but, shit, it was an amazing kiss.

Now I’m just dreading her reaction to me. I texted her
a few times to check up on her, but her responses usually came slowly and were
brief. I stare up at the building. It’s not in the best part of Glenwood which
makes me nervous, but I know it’s easy for her to get to work from here. The
red brick building looks in good shape and the front doors are fairly new. At least
the place is secure.

I take the steps up to the door, wincing when my leg
pulls. I forget what happened to it sometimes. I can’t quite get used to taking
it easy and I refuse to look weak, so I climb the next few steps quickly. My
heart hammers as I reach for the buzzer and press her number.
She was the
one who asked for help
, I remind myself.
It’s not like she’s going to
turn you away.

The thing is, she doesn’t seem to realize I want more.
More kisses, more Sienna. I’ve wanted her for so long, it’s ridiculous. I think
she wants me too. I’ve seen the way she looks at me. She always kept it under
control normally. Neither of us would have done anything while she was married.
But at the funeral… God, I hate myself for thinking it, but I’m sure she wants me.
Hell, if that kiss was anything to go by, she does.

But what kind of guy kisses a crying woman after her
husband’s funeral? Talk about bad timing. I should have given her some time,
comforted her and waited until she was settled before making some moves.

So that’s my plan. Be there, remind her of how good we
are together—as friends—and make her realize how good we could be together as
more than friends.

Her voice comes through the speaker, slightly shaky.
“Y-yes?”

“Sienna, it’s me.”

“Come on up.”

The door clunks and I push it open, step through and
let it swing shut behind me. I study the stairs and opt for those. She’s only
two flights up, apartment number 208, and I like to use my leg as much as I
can. When I get to the top, I stare at her door. She’ll be waiting for me. She
knows I’m here so why aren’t I knocking? I guess I’m not sure how she’s going
to be with me. Or how I’ll react to her. Honestly, it might take all my
restraint not to press her back against the wall, tear off her clothes and wrap
her legs around my hips.

Great, now I’m getting hard.

I take a few breaths and knock, secretly thanking
Jess’s husband for not being able to help move her stuff in. They packed it up
the other day but now he’s on maneuvers so Sienna needs me. I’m willing to bet
she wouldn’t have asked if she could have helped it. Too busy trying to do
things on her own as if she’s got something to prove.

It’s cheesy but when the door swings open, I swear she
takes my breath away. Sienna’s clearly dressed for moving. Worn, pale denim
jeans, a light pink T-shirt and her hair up in a ponytail with silky auburn
strands escaping from it. Sienna is one of those women who probably gets cast
as the girl next door type unless you look closely. Cute nose, fair skin,
innocent. And then she gets dressed up. Damn. That’s when it hits you. Once
you’ve seen her like that, you’ll always see her beauty no matter what she’s
wearing. And those eyes… when her pale blue
—
almost
grey
—
eyes twinkle, you see so much hidden sexiness. I don’t
think any guy can meet her and not wonder if they could be the one to draw out
her naughty side.

She smiles tentatively. Her mouth is small, slightly
delicate but very kissable. As I know from experience. I allow myself a smug
smirk. She steps back, hands squeezed tightly together in front of her.

“Hi.” I greet her with a slanted grin.

She looks somewhat taken aback by me grinning at her
and her gaze lands on my lips. “Hi, thanks for coming.”

“No worries.” I stroll past and she shuts the door
behind me, pausing briefly and staring at the wood. I grin to myself. Maybe
she’s sucking up her courage too. “So this is it, huh?”

She turns as I study the living room. “Yep, all mine.”

My smile expands when I hear the pride in her voice.
“It’s nice. Could do with a paint job and a new carpet but you’ve got a good
space here.” I study her. There’s a vibrancy to her that I haven’t seen in a
while, in spite of her obvious anxiety. “You look happy.”

She smiles back. “I’m getting there. I’m feeling
pretty good. Getting my independence back, you know?”

“Good.” I pause and skim my gaze over her. I’m glad
she’s finding herself again but I don’t want her too independent. Yeah, that
sounds like some macho bullshit, I know, but I wish she needed me just a
little. I sense she thinks of herself as all needy but the truth is she’s
stronger than she realizes. All army wives are. She fidgets, color in her
cheeks, and I stop staring. “You gonna show me the rest of the place then?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” She jumps into action.

The place is laid out pretty simply. The door opens
into the living room then a sliding door separates the kitchen and dining space
from it. She leads me into the kitchen and shows off the large silver fridge.

I whistle. “Nice.”

“I had it delivered this morning. I knew you’d
approve.”

“What? You think of food and you think of me?”

Sienna laughs. “No! But you do like to eat.”

I shrug, secretly glad she had been thinking of me.
“Hey, I’m a big man. I need to eat.”

I don’t mean to but I end up stroking my gaze appreciatively
over her and I’m convinced she’s doing the same. It’s true, I’m a big guy. I
haven’t had any complaints. I never used to be quite so fit but after going
through PT on the leg… I don’t know… exercise became an addiction. A shrink
would tell me I’m trying to make up for what the shrapnel did to my leg. And
maybe I am. I try not to think about it too hard. I’m not going to start
feeling sorry for myself when three guys died in that firefight.

When I bring my gaze back up to her face, her eyes have
darkened. I recognize that look and I’m willing to bet my eyes reflect the
same. It’s the one we shared before we kissed.

Before I can make a move, she steps past and opens the
door to the bedroom. “And this is my bedroom,” she declares.

There’s nothing in it. It’s just white walls and a
beige carpet but saying the word bed around us seems to be like setting fire to
a fuse and letting it burn. The air feels electric and even though I’m behind
her, I know she’s aware of me. I can see the tension in her shoulders, and she
turns and stumbles into my chest. Hands gripping her forearms, I straighten
her.

“Well, I…” She swallows. “I guess we’d better get
started.”

I groan inwardly. Does she realize what she’s saying?
‘Cause the only thing I want to get started is us. It’s a good job there’s no
bed in here as I’m pretty sure she’d have ended up on it. So much for trying to
take things slow.

“Yeah,” I finally agree, voice slightly husky, “yeah,
we should.”

I uncurl my fingers slowly and release her. I miss her
already when she slides away from me. Sienna strides out of my vision while I
take a moment to control my misbehaving body.

“Come on then. Let’s get this done and I’ll treat you
to dinner,” she calls out.

I lean around the sliding doors, hands in pockets and offer
her a grin that I know she finds disarming. It’s my most charming one. “Sounds
like a deal.”

***

Five hours later, we collapse on her brown sofa. I’m
exhausted. My leg is aching slightly, not that I’d let on. Whoever designed
apartments was an idiot. Trying to get the couch in was insane but we had a
laugh. I peek at Sienna and am secretly pleased that after our awkward moment
earlier, we seem to have found our feet again.

She sweeps a hand through her hair and leans back. The
movement thrusts out her breasts and affords me a good look at the flesh
between her jeans and top. My fingers itch to touch there. But I remind myself
not to push her.  I never should have kissed her after the funeral. I
don’t regret kissing her, but I regret the timing. I resist the urge to laugh.
Could I have any worse timing? I scared her away briefly and I don’t want to
ruin things again.

But I’m not willing to let it end there either. While
I plan to offer her all the support I can, she has to know I want more from
her. We’ve been fighting this attraction for so long, surely she knows? I get
that it’s fucking wrong to be lusting after your supposed best friend’s wife
but, damn, I’m only human and I never acted upon it before.