His Girl Next Door: The Army Ranger's Return / New York's Finest Rebel / The Girl from Honeysuckle Farm. Trish WylieЧитать онлайн книгу.
her like an almost-broken doll because of what she’d been through.
And he was hardly a disappointment. In the flesh, he was even more commanding than he was on paper. Well over six feet and built like a man who could protect her on a dark stormy night in the meanest streets of Los Angeles. A man with dark cropped, slightly disheveled hair that begged to be touched, ice-blue eyes that seemed to pierce straight through her body. And beautiful lips that, despite all he’d seen and experienced, still hovered with the hint of a smile as he spoke.
Jessica scolded herself. Smiling over mental pictures of him while she was alone was exactly what she didn’t need to be doing. Ever. Until she reached the five-year mark, until she knew she was in complete remission, men were strictly off her radar.
Jessica stole a quick glance at herself in the mirror as she passed and fought the urge to cross her arms over her chest. She was still self-conscious, but it was getting better. After all they’d said to one another, all they’d shared, she hadn’t told Ryan. Couldn’t tell him. Not yet. It was still too fresh for her, too raw, to share with anyone.
And she wanted him to just like her for herself. Treat her like she was normal and not a fragile baby bird in need of extra care.
She picked up her purse, squirted an extra spray of perfume to her wrist and reached for a sweater. She didn’t know why, but today felt like a fresh opportunity, a new chance. She wasn’t going to let her insecurities ruin it. Not when she had a man like Ryan waiting to spend the day with her.
Even if she was scared to death.
She utterly refused to let her past ruin her future. Not now, not after all she’d been through.
Today was about starting over.
Dear Jessica,
I’ve become desensitized to what we have to see over here. I wait for my orders, I no longer cringe when an explosion echoes around me, and I automatically squeeze the trigger to take down the enemy. Does it make me a bad person that I no longer feel? I’m starting to think I like being here because it means I don’t have to face reality. I can pretend my wife didn’t die and that my son doesn’t hate me. But I’ll be coming home soon, after all this time, and I’m not going to have any more excuses.
Thanks for listening, Jessica. You don’t know how much it means to me to be able to write to you, to be honest like this. I can’t talk to anyone else, but you’re always here for me. Ryan
“SO HOW IS it you’ve managed to stay away for so long?”
Ryan shrugged and turned his body toward Jessica as they walked. He made himself look away from Hercules racing up and down the riverbank so he could give Jessica his full attention.
“I guess I became good at saying yes, and the army were pleased to have me wherever I was needed.”
“What about this time?”
Ryan chuckled. After so long being in the company of men, he wasn’t used to the way a woman could just fire questions. So candidly wanting to know everything at once.
“What’s so funny?” she asked.
Jessica was … what? Pouting? No, not pouting but she was definitely pursing her lips.
“You’re very inquisitive, that’s all.”
She gave him a nudge in the side and rolled her eyes. Ryan tried not to come to a complete standstill, forced his feet to keep moving. He wasn’t used to that, either. Someone touching him so casually, with such ease.
He’d definitely been away too long.
“I write to you for months, and you can’t tell me where you are or why you’re suddenly coming home on such short notice. So spill,” she ordered.
He followed Jessica toward the edge of the lake, the water so still it looked like the cover of a postcard. The park was beautiful, much more attractive than he’d remembered it being, but after so long seeing sand and little else, everything about America seemed beautiful. The smell of fresh rain on grass, the softer rays of sunlight, not burning so hot against your skin that it made you sweat. Things you took for granted until they were snatched away.
“I can’t tell you where we’ve been, you know that, but what I can say is that our last, ah, assignment was successful.”
Jessica waited. He’d give her that. She could talk his ear off, but she knew when to stay quiet. Seemed to sense that he needed a moment.
“I’m a marksman, Jess.” He paused and watched her, made sure she didn’t look too alarmed. “I entered the special forces as an expert in my field, and it’s why I’ve been deployed so long.”
“But you didn’t want to come home,” she said softly. “What made you come back now?”
Ryan sighed and looked out at the water. It was so much easier just keeping this sort of stuff in his head. But he didn’t have to tell her everything. It wasn’t like he’d planned to come home, more like his hand had been forced.
If he’d had it his way he would have stayed away forever. That’s what he had done until now. Now he was home and he had to deal with being a single dad for real. Not to mention the fact his son didn’t want to know him.
He didn’t like admitting something was impossible, but repairing that relationship could be like trying to bring someone back from the dead. It was his own fault, his own battle to deal with, and he’d been a coward to wait so long before confronting the problem.
But one thing he’d promised himself was that he was going to be honest with this woman. She’d done something generous for him, helped him from the other side of the world through her constant letters, and he owed it to her to be real and candid with her now.
“I had an injury a while back and it never healed quite right.” He moved to sit down on the grass, needing to collapse. It was hard being so open, just talking, and he couldn’t go back. Couldn’t put into words what had happened to him then, that day he’d realized he wasn’t invincible. “I’ve had a lot of pain in my arm, so I had surgery in Germany on my way back home, and the army wants me on rest until the physio gives me the all clear.”
Ryan gritted his teeth and forced his eyes to stay open as his memory tried to claw its way back. The smell of gunpowder, the pain making his arm feel like it was on fire, and not being able to stop. Making his arm work, pushing through, pulling the trigger over and over until his body had finally let him down.
He clamped his jaw down hard and looked at Jessica. She was sitting, too, right beside him, legs tucked up under her as she stared at the water. As if she was the troubled one. He could see it on her face. That she was either reacting to his pain, or harboring her own.
“Jess?”
She turned empty eyes toward him, bottom lip caught between her teeth.
“That means you’re going back at some point.”
He raised a brow. Had she thought he was home for good? Had he made her think he was staying by something he’d said?
“Ah, all going well, I’ll be deployed wherever they need me,” he confirmed.
It was wonderful being back here in some ways, but it was also extremely difficult. He’d do his best, try to make amends, but he was a soldier. That’s what he did. What he was good at.
She nodded, over and over again, too vigorously. “Of course, of course you’re going back. I don’t know why I thought you wouldn’t be.”
“I’ll be here a couple months at least, then I have to figure out what to do. I’m eligible to be discharged, they’ve offered me teaching positions, but I’m just