“I can pick you up and give you a ride over there.” I fucking hate the tinge of desperation I hear in my voice.
Her expression softens and she gives me a patient smile. “I can drive myself. I need to try and get back to normal at some point.” Stepping closer, she rises on her tiptoes to press a quick—far too quick—kiss to my cheek. “Thank you for everything.”
Moving back, she stoops down to Harley. “You be good, okay, sweetie.” Then, with her bag over her shoulder, hanging clothes already in her car—the car she had insisted she go back and get because she didn’t want everyone at the office to get the wrong idea if we were to ride in to work together each morning—she turns to head to the door.
“Harley’s going to miss you.” I’m going to miss you.
Her hand stills on the doorknob and when she turns around, I find myself wanting desperately to detect some sign that she’ll miss this—miss me—too. But I can’t see it in her beautiful blue eyes.
“I’ll miss him, too,” she says quietly before slipping out, the door closing softly behind her. Leaving me and Harley surrounded by the silence of my home. A home that feels awfully empty without Noelle in it.
And if I’m being completely honest, it isn’t the only thing that feels empty.
*
“Hey, man,” Mac greets me, opening the door to allow me to enter the beach home.
Mac and I go way back. He’s a good guy who had a rough go of life from the start and his last mission as a SEAL was a complete clusterfuck. When he was finally transferred to a hospital stateside, he was in a bad place—both physically and mentally. Ma and I flew up to see him and I convinced him to come down to Fernandina Beach and recuperate.
We found this house—a foreclosure that had needed a shit ton of work—but it was just the thing for him. He and I worked our asses off at bringing the place back up to speed. Now he and Raine, my pseudo kid sister, are happily married.
Walking down the wide hallway, we make our way toward the oversized sliding glass doors leading out to the large outer deck where everyone is gathered. Mac opens the doors and my eyes instantly settle on Noelle where she’s sitting at a table with the other women. Raine is gesturing animatedly, telling some anecdote which is evidently entertaining as Noelle throws her head back in laughter, her expression so open and breathtakingly beautiful.
Here’s the thing about Noelle. She’s not waif-thin, doesn’t have a super tiny waist or perfect features. She’s got curves for days—those luscious, pin-up style ones—and while her nose might not be symmetrically proportionate to her face, she more than makes up for it with those light blue eyes and her sassy, sharp-witted personality. God knows, the woman can match wits with me any day of the week.
But all of that pales when she lets out a genuine, honest-to-goodness laugh. The way her entire face transforms is—Shit. It makes it hard for me to breathe, just looking at her. Makes my chest feel tight. Even so, it’s a sight my mind instantly wants to memorize.
“So that’s how it is, huh?”
I didn’t even realize Mac and I had been standing in the opened doorway to the deck. Attempting to hide the fact that he’d startled me from gawking at a woman like a fucking teenager, my lips part to give him my best nonchalant brush-off.
Instead, the moment I meet his gaze which isn’t mocking or derisive, but understanding, what comes out instead is, “Yeah.” I blow out a long breath. “But hell if I know what to do about it.”
We step out and after he pulls the door closed behind us, he veers off to the side of the deck to lean against the railing. I follow, knowing he wants to talk before we join the others. I also know it’s serious since the dimple that makes all the women swoon is nowhere in sight.
“I heard about the trouble she’s got hanging over her head.” Mac pauses, his dark blue eyes conveying his seriousness. “You just feeling protective or is it something more?”
I falter for an answer because, the truth is, it’s both.
“If it’s both,” Mac begins and I’m reminded he knows me well, “then you need to be able to decipher whether or not you can get past your shit and have something with her. Something lasting.”
Yeah, my buddy just called me on my shit because, well, Mac knows. While I’m pretty sure he doesn’t know the actual specifics, he knows what it’s like, knows the horrors we’ve seen during some of our missions. It’s the stuff that would keep most people awake at night.
It’s stuff that keeps me from sleeping through the night.
Except for when Noelle spends the night, an inner voice whispers. And I can’t deny it. The nights she stayed with me were the first nights in I don’t know how long I actually slept through the night. And slept well with her in my arms.