The Military Wife (A Heart of a Hero, #1)

“When did you decide to start your business?”

Grateful for the subject change, he said, “It had been brewing for a while. It’s something we used to talk about over there. Once a SEAL, always a SEAL, but everyone moves on eventually, either in the military or out of it.”

“Like Darren.”

“Yep.” He tucked his hand under his head and stared at the flickering shadows on the ceiling. “Sarge had taught me survival techniques and SEAL training honed them. Weekend warriors were eager to learn, and no one else offered what I could in the Virginia Beach area. Now, though, I have people fly in from New York, Atlanta, Boston. It’s grown even faster than my business plan predicted.”

“Wow.” She didn’t say more, but the energy that thrummed indicated she was wide awake. Finally, she said, “Do you want to hear something crazy? I’m thinking of starting a business.”

“Not crazy. Challenging, though. What kind of business?”

“We’re leaning toward a coffeehouse. Who doesn’t like coffee, right?”

“Who is ‘we’?”

“Allison and me. And a handful of other ladies from a support group for military wives. We’ve been chatting via text and Skype and … I don’t know, I think we’re onto something. We have a lot in common.”

He tried not to be curious but failed. “New businesses are risky even with something amazing to offer. Why would you want the stress?”

“Because”—she made a little sound of disgust—“my life is fine. Easy.”

“‘Easy’ sounds good.”

“Too easy. Unfulfilling. Boring.”

“Not good enough reasons to sink money into a business with no mission.”

“A mission and purpose I have in spades. It’s the product that’s been hard to nail down.”

He turned and propped his head up on his hand, matching her stance and putting their faces close. “Give me more info.”

She chewed her bottom lip, her gaze unwavering on his. “It started with Allison and Darren.”

“Heard Family Man got another promotion.” His life had diverged from his SEAL counterparts’, partly from circumstance but mostly by his own doing.

“Yeah. He’s part of JSOC now.” Troubles weighed the words and clouded her eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

“He’s having a hard time. PTSD, I think. Depression, maybe. Allison is at her wit’s end. I went down for a visit because Allison’s emails seemed … off. Darren sleeps too much during the day, and the night I was there he wandered around the base in the wee hours. Not sure what would have happened if I hadn’t been there.”

Bennett had only met Allison twice, but she’d struck him as the quintessential officer’s wife. Welcoming and friendly, but with a steel backbone. “Has he tried counseling?”

“Did you?” Her eyebrows rose. When he didn’t answer, she continued. “You know how these things work.”

Unfortunately, he did. Darren was probably attempting the common “stuff your problems in the closet and nail it shut” method of dealing with his issues. Worked better for some men than others. Or maybe his closet had gotten too full and the door would no longer close.

“Drinking too much?” Bennett asked.

“I’m not sure, but he doesn’t look good. He’s a shadow of the man I remember.”

Fuck. Maybe he should reach out. Not that he had any great wisdom to impart, but at least Bennett understood what he’d been through better than some base shrink. And Darren wouldn’t feel comfortable sharing with a group of strangers.

“I’ll call him when we get back.”

“That would be great.” She touched his arm. The muscle jumped instinctively and scared her hand away. Good.

“I still don’t understand how this undefined business venture has anything to do with Darren.”

“I went to a support meeting of base wives. It was enlightening. Several of the wives lamented the lack of job opportunities. They want to contribute. I felt the same way when I was in their shoes, but now I’m in the position to do something.” An infectious enthusiasm lit her voice.

“And you want to start a business that employs them.”

“Yes. Exactly.” She snapped and pointed.

She understood better than most what military wives faced—the good, bad, and tragic. It was a noble reason, but nobility and success weren’t natural partners when it came to actually making money.

“You graduated with honors, didn’t you?”

“How did you—?” She gave a little shake of her head. “Double major: marketing and business. After Noah and I married, I couldn’t find a job that I wasn’t grossly overqualified for. They could smell a military wife from a mile away.”

“Why the black mark for being a military wife?”

“When husbands move, so do wives. Why spend the time and money to train someone when she might leave at any moment? I don’t blame them. I really don’t.” She sighed and flopped to her back. “But it was frustrating. I wasn’t cut from the same cloth as Allison. She’s the perfect military wife.”

“I don’t know. According to Noah, you were perfect.”

Her gaze darted to his and then away. “No. I wasn’t perfect by any stretch.”





Chapter 10


Past

“Redecorate or something. I see a bunch of the wives taking a kickboxing class during morning PT. Allison coordinates all sorts of charity shit you could help with.” Noah ran a hand through his hair. “Why can’t you just be happy?”

His hair was longer than normal. Their most recent deployment had been in Afghanistan. To fit in with the locals, many men grew their hair and beards out. Noah’s blond hair fingered him as a foreigner no matter how long it was.

His usually epic patience with her must have been at a breaking point. He’d cursed. Of course, she’d heard him curse before, but never at her. Anger and unease took up equal space in her chest.

“I’m not wired to take kickboxing and fritter away my day on charity work. I’ve worked since I was sixteen. I put myself through college. I busted my butt for two degrees that I’m not even using.” She gestured toward the wall where she and Noah had proudly hung her diplomas after they’d moved in. Her pride had turned to bitterness over the last two years.

“You’ve had opportunities.” His voice was almost accusing.

“Selling people mattresses or working the register at a department store? Really ambitious stuff.”

Noah plopped down on the couch and put his head down, his hands linked behind his neck. “What do you want me to do about it? The SEALs are my life. It’s what I’ve always wanted. Do you want me to give it up so we can move to a bigger city? Is that what you want?”

Great. Now she felt like a slug that crawled out of the muck after a big rain. “Of course not.” She sat next to him and put a hand on his knee, squeezing slightly. “I get frustrated and there’s no one else to talk to around here. No one that I have anything in common with.”

He slouched backward on the couch, his arm across the back. She took the invitation and snuggled into his side. Fighting with Noah left her feeling queasy. He was so good and noble and she … wasn’t.

“You haven’t even tried to make friends, Harper Lee.” His voice had lost its sharpness.

“Ugh. I was never good at making friends. And it’s only gotten harder.”

“Will you do one thing for me?” He tipped her face toward his.

They’d been married almost two years, but because they spent so much time apart, in many ways they were still getting used to living together and sharing their lives. She was struck by not only how handsome he was but also the kindness in his eyes. How could she deny him anything?

“I’ll try.”

“Invite Allison over for coffee. Spend some time with her. If you still don’t like her then—”

“I never said I didn’t like her. She’s nice. It’s that we don’t have anything in common.”

“Just one morning, one hour.”

“Okay, fine.” Her agreement came out sounding more petulant than she intended. He picked up her phone on the side table and held it out to her. She snatched it out of his hand. “You want me to call now?”

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