She grabs her purse from inside the cabin and runs her fingers through her hair in an attempt to smooth it down as she heads to the back of the boat to disembark.
An impulse to call out to her pushes at my chest, an urgency to keep her close.
You use women as a distraction, a hobby to fill your mind so you don’t have to think about what happened in the valley.
The shrink’s words tumble through my head.
Celia is most definitely a distraction. I may have instigated the kiss and there’s absolutely a desire for more, but I’m not chasing after her as a means to run away from my problems.
And Cal wouldn’t appreciate me using his friend as amusement for my dick. No, that’s not what this is. I actually enjoyed myself today. The view was a lot better with Celia around, and we had some good laughs, she didn’t seem at all uncomfortable when the conversation died and we’d sit for long stretches of silence.
“Aden?” She’s on the dock gazing up at me. “Thank you for today. That was a lot more fun than packing would’ve been.”
That’s right. She’s moving. “You’re welcome.”
Well, fuck . . . any time I’m going to get to spend with her is going to have to happen before she leaves to . . . where is she moving?
“Is there a number I can reach you, ya know, if I have any questions?” She’s rocking back and forth, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, and I notice she’s rolling a silver coin between her fingers.
I hop over the railing and she jumps when I land just a few feet from her. I hold out my hand. “Phone.”
She nods and fishes the device from her purse. I add my cell, my chest feeling warm at the idea of her using it.
“There.” I hand it back and she shoves it in her bag.
“Great, so . . .” She looks up at me with those eyes and those fucking lips. “I guess I’ll see you around.”
Limited time.
Cal’s gonna kill me.
Fuck it.
I hook her around the back of the neck and pull her to me. She stumbles and places both palms against my chest. Her touch feels amazing. “I want to kiss you again, you good with that?”
“But I thought—”
“Just a kiss.” It’s risky, but I have to try, because the alternative is nothing at all and I don’t think I could stand knowing Celia is in the same town as me and I can’t put my lips on hers.
Her breath hitches, and damn, the sound is an injection of pure lust. “Yes.”
“Good.” I brush my thumb along her jaw and my eyes are drawn to her tongue as it swipes her lower lip. I groan and every part of me wants to get closer. “And what about tomorrow?”
“You want to kiss me tomorrow?” Her pulse beats a rapid rhythm against my palm.
“If I did, would you let me?” I stare at her lips and prepare to suck them between mine when she nods.
Thank fuck!
Pulling up to bring her mouth close, she’s forced to her tiptoes and I smile seconds before I press my lips to hers. Damn, but her mouth is like falling onto the softest pillows after a lifetime of resting on concrete. I lick my way inside and close my eyes when our tongues slide together. My body throbs for her. My fingers fork into her hair and it’s so damn soft and smells like strawberries, I could literally eat this woman alive.
But I won’t.
I have the willpower of a seasoned soldier; surely I can resist every urge to possess the woman in my arms.
It’s just a kiss.
Even as my defense blares in my head so does the truth.
This is not keeping my distance.
I watch as the taillights to Celia’s orange Thing round the corner of the lot and disappear. That car has to be fifty years old, I’m shocked it even started. My jaw clenches at the thought of her driving around a tin can—dammit, Aden, she’s not your problem.
Shaking off my unwarranted worry, I contemplate heading to the Office for a drink, but know if I do it’ll be— My gaze darts to movement from the corner of my eye. A man with a full dark beard and heavy coat walks with his head down. Something about him seems off, way off, and way too familiar.
There’s a whiff of smoke.
Gunpowder.
Not real. This is not real!
Alerts sound in my head and I glare at the fucker only to have him glare right back.
“You got a problem?” I keep my eyes on his.
He shakes his head and quickens his pace. “No.”
“Little fuckin’ warm for a trench coat.” I call out after him and he stops and stares. Suspicious asshole. My pulse rockets through my veins and I move toward him. “You got something to say?”
“Do I know you?” the guy asks, and I could swear I picked up a slight accent.
American pig!
“What did you say?” I reach for the waistband of my shorts only to realize I don’t have my gun.
Explosions light the backs of my eyes and mortar fire pounds in my ears.
“I d-didn’t say anything,” he stutters.
“You’re a little far from home, sadiq.” As I get closer he ducks into the fish market.
“What the hell are you doin’?”
I whirl around to the voice from my back. It’s Jenkins with his hands up and his eyes tight.
“Fuck! You can’t creep on my back like that, man!” I inhale a lungful of the warm briny air and try like hell to calm my racing pulse. I search my mind for the sights and sounds of war but what was so real seconds ago is gone.
“Need to get that shit in check, Colt,” he mumbles for only my ears.
I push past him to head to the sanctuary of my boat. “You don’t fucking think I know that?” I step onto the deck only to hear him lumber aboard right behind me. I fist my hands in my hair and then lock them behind my neck. Breathe . . . Breathe. “I’m trying.”
He pulls a beer from the ice chest left over from fishing. “You want any chance with a woman like Celia . . .” He cracks the top and takes a swig. “You’re gonna have to try harder.”
“Who says I want a chance with her?”
“Saw you suckin’ her face off.” He shrugs one bony shoulder and sits down. “Figure you want a chance.”
I blow out a long breath and drop to the padded bench along the railing. “It’s getting better.” It’s not, but I’m avoiding triggers more, like crowds, my family, people in general. They all manage to infuriate me without even trying.
I moved home after my honorable discharge and I didn’t last a week under my parents’ roof. They don’t get it. Fuck, I don’t get it. Jenkins . . . he served in Vietnam. He gets it.
“Can’t keep pushing it down, Colt. That shit you can’t seem to shake? It’ll fester inside you and kill everything you got in life until it’s just you. That’s the bitch of it, ya know? It kills everything . . . everything but you. You got a choice, you wanna live or you wanna die. You pick death, that’s easy. You live. . . .” He takes another gulp from the frosty beer can. “Well, that’s worse than dying, so either way you’re fucked.”
I snag a beer and pop the top. “Anyone ever say you give shitty pep talks, Jenks?”