Once and For All: An American Valor Novel (13 page)

Was he here and avoiding her? Or had he just dropped his stuff and run?

They’d exchanged text messages throughout the week after she woke to find his two-word apology. Slowly but surely a conversation began and by this morning she believed things were resolved and the awkwardness was behind them. Which was why she decided to cook him a nice dinner. A peace offering of sorts.

She tiptoed down the hallway to the bedroom and found him sprawled across the bed. Sound asleep. Naked. The clean scent of his soap lingered in the air. She could only assume he’d taken a shower before yanking back the covers and collapsing face-first onto the mattress, resembling a starfish washed ashore. He didn’t even bother with a pillow as he lay in the middle of his huge bed, his body angled from corner to corner, with only the top sheet tangled around his legs.

Damn.

She’d never get used to how beautiful he’d become. From his sculpted shoulders to his defined back, to the turned muscles of his arms and legs displaying power and strength even while completely at rest.

Just as God intended.

In college she wouldn’t have thought twice about joining him on that bed. Running her tongue the length of his spine, starting between those two dimples low on his back and working her way up to his neck. But she wasn’t that girl anymore, although there were plenty of times she wished to see her in the mirror again, if only for a day.

Bree closed the bedroom door, leaving him to catch up on some much-needed rest.

A couple hours later he emerged, sneaking up behind her as she worked in the kitchen.

“Something smells good.”

She jumped involuntarily.

“Are you hungry?” Bree covered the sauce pot and turned to face him, nearly swallowing her tongue in the process.

He had dressed, kind of. Flannel pants hung low on his hips. An unzipped hoodie revealed a sculpted chest she’d imagined but not seen until this very moment. Stubble shadowed his jaw and a line creased his cheek. If he hadn’t shaved off most of his hair, he surely would have been rocking the sexy, rumpled look. Her gaze drifted to the hollow of his throat, his collarbones. She wanted to press her face against the tender spot where his shoulder and neck met and breathe deep, knowing that was where he always,
always
smelled the best. Of course her hands would need something to do. Like smoothing over the ridges and valleys before following the light dusting of hair that bisected his abdomen, circled his belly button and disappeared beneath the waistband of his pants.

“Do I need to change into something else?”

“Hmmm?” Her head snapped up to see the amusement in his eyes and smirk on his face.

He chuckled softly as he moved toward their small dining table.

The heated rush of embarrassment quickly followed. The oven buzzed, thankfully saving her from herself. She popped garlic bread in the oven and dropped the pasta in the boiling water. Hopefully, the heat and steam would disguise her flush. She stirred the pasta with vigor, but froze the moment the shuffle of papers registered in her head.

Shit. She’d pulled them out only to see how long she had until her next checkup. The last thing she wanted was for Danny to get an in-depth look at them. Because once he knew everything about her treatment, he wouldn’t look at her in the same way ever again.

He stared at the papers in hand, his eyes scanning the cover page before finally looking up at her. “Everything go okay this week?” he asked, now holding the papers out to her.

She took them from him, shoving her medical records into an accordion file that held all of her personal documents. “Just fine.”

He pointed to the folder in her hand. “Sure about that?”

Bree painted on her brightest smile. “Absolutely.”

She hustled down the hallway and into the bedroom, where she stashed the folder in a cardboard banker’s box. By the time she returned, Danny was in the process of setting the table for dinner. For a moment she believed that was the end of it. Only until he turned his attention to her.

Danny stood with his arms folded across his chest, watching her with such intensity.

“I promise, Danny. Nothing is wrong. My doctor in Myrtle Beach made sort of a CliffsNotes version of my medical records so I could see where I’m at as far as follow-ups for blood work and scans and stuff. I was just checking to see how much time I have until I need to schedule an appointment with someone local.”

Several seconds passed before he finally spoke.

“I know you want breathing room. Need it, really. I promised you no hovering, but that doesn’t mean you can’t talk about what you went through, what you’re going through, with me.”

“I appreciate that.” She smiled. “Really. I just . . . I’m tired of talking about it.”

He nodded in understanding. “Okay. But I have one request.”

Her insides twisted. “And that is?”

“If something changes and one day your doctor gives you bad news instead of good, I want you to tell me. And if there’s good news, I want you to tell me so we can celebrate. Giving you space doesn’t mean I don’t care. Understood?”

“Got it.”

But it became clear that reply wasn’t enough. He cocked his head, raised an eyebrow, and just stood there, patiently waiting.

“Okay,” she said. “I promise. Good news or bad news, I’ll tell you.”

He smiled in victory. “Thank you.”

The remainder of the evening passed by quietly, with little chitchat during dinner or the movie that followed. They also kept distance between them, she sitting on the couch, he in the recliner.

Bree said good-night and headed for the bedroom, only realizing he’d followed along behind her once she reached the end of the hall. Afraid to say anything, she pulled her pajamas from the drawer as he disappeared into the closet. He returned seconds later; the pillows and blanket he normally used were bundled in his arms.

Just like that, things returned to the way they were her very first night in Savannah, with little said between them.

Chapter Fourteen

“N
O WAY ARE
you going to make it in time.”

Danny’s voice came from deep within the closet, rousing her from a light sleep. Bree rolled over to look at the clock and groaned. Not yet 6am on a Saturday. My, how the boy had changed. She remembered back when they were in college how difficult it was to drag his butt out of bed before noon. Of course in those days, he rarely made it to bed before the sun came up.

He exited the closet, dressed in his camo stuff head to toe. In his hands he held the tan beret with that brightly colored patch. “Better get moving. The traffic is going to be a nightmare. The parking will be even worse.”

She pulled the pillow over her face.

“Come on, sleepyhead. Up and at ’em.” Danny grabbed the pillow and tossed it across the room then yanked back the sheet, blanket, and comforter in one swipe. “Believe it or not, I still remember how long it takes you to get ready.”

“That was when I had hair,” she whined. “Lots of it, as a matter of fact.” Bree climbed out of the bed and stomped her way to the bathroom, turning on the shower and giving it a chance to heat up. “If there’s one perk to chemo, it’s no hair anywhere.”

When she turned around, he was right there, standing stock-still, his eyes zeroed in on her body.

It hadn’t taken her long to commandeer one of his well-worn T-shirts. The traditional gray T-shirt with ARMY screened across the front was broken in to that point of unbelievable softness, and she couldn’t resist swiping it. She’d worn it several times and he’d never seemed to be bothered by it. But now his eyes were practically burning a hole through the fabric.

“No hair anywhere?” he asked, quirking his eyebrow.

She laughed as she pushed past him and into the hallway, sliding open the louvered doors hiding away the washer and dryer. “My God, you are twelve.”

And just as he often did when they were kids, he followed, right on her heels. Even leaned over her shoulder to whisper in her ear as she dug a fresh towel from the dryer. “I won’t deny that.”

She pushed past him a second time and headed for the bedroom to grab a change of clothes, only to find him blocking the doorway when she turned around.

“You’re telling me you’re completely bare?” His gaze skimmed her body, pausing momentarily somewhere below her waist before returning to her face. “Everywhere?”

She fought hard to suppress the shiver racing up and down her spine. “For now, yes. Having done chemo twice, it takes a little longer for things to grow back. Now, if you don’t mind.”

This time he stepped aside, allowing her to cross the hall and into the lone bathroom where she dropped her clothes on the counter. When she went to close the door, he was right there, resting his forearms high against the doorjamb as he canted toward her.

“I wanna see.” Such childish enthusiasm in his voice. Not unlike a teenage boy wanting another peek of his best friend’s stolen
Playboy
. Danny reached out, hooking a finger under the bottom of her T-shirt. More like his shirt.

“No.” She laughed while simultaneously pushing his hand away and tugging the hem to its appropriate length.

What had possessed her to share such a thing with him? Oh, yeah. He implied it took her forever to get ready so this was her own damn fault. She’d dangled the proverbial carrot in front of his face and he was now in the mood to take a bite.

She started to close the door, hoping he’d take the hint. He didn’t budge an inch, just stood there with a lazy grin on his face.

“Remember that time you shaved it all off?”

How could she forget? Every month the girls on her dormitory floor would gather in the rec room, giggling and laughing as one of them read all the polls and articles from that month’s
Cosmo
. Just so happened that particular month was about personal grooming habits. And in one adventuresome moment, she took a fresh Lady Bic and proceeded to shave off every bit of pubic hair. Very carefully. The drastic change brought about this seductiveness in her. She felt more mature. Naughty. And Danny enjoyed the change even more than she did.

“I remember.” Her words barely a whisper.

“Completely bare.” His eyes were glazed, his mind trapped in a dreamlike state. “That was awesome.” The smile on his face was not unlike that of the cat who ate the canary.

“Hardly. I regretted that decision for weeks to come.”

For a few days she very much enjoyed the bareness. And his attention. But when it started to grow back, all the little hair follicles turned red and bumpy and itched terribly. At one point she found it difficult to concentrate in class, constantly dashing off to the restroom just so she could scratch herself in private. Never again would she do something so stupid.

“But still. I got to enjoy that then. Why not now? After all, I’m your husband now. Legal and everything.” He waggled the metal band on his left hand in front of her. “Marriage should have its privileges.”

She took several steps back until her rear bumped the bathroom vanity. “No.” She fought hard to say it without smiling but she couldn’t contain it. She repeated herself, hoping to sound more authoritative, sterner. At the very least she wanted to sound like she meant it. But her words of protest rang hollow even to her own ears. They both knew exactly how this little cat and mouse game would end; the only question that remained was when.

“Marriage isn’t a good enough reason, especially since everyone knows your sex life pretty much ends once you get married.”

He scoffed at her words, but she could see the wheels turning in his head. He was looking for another angle to play.

“Then how about you do it for your country? I’m a hero, you know.”

She couldn’t hold back the laughter this time and soon he was laughing along with her. Finally, she caught her breath. “I’ve missed this,” she said, the words escaping before her brain caught up and stopped them.

He stared at her for a long time, a half smile on his face. “Me, too.”

Then, as if he was embarrassed by the admission, Danny glanced at his watch and pushed away from the door frame with both hands. “All right. I’ve gotta go. And since there’s nothing to see here . . .”

She pushed the bathroom door closed behind him and tested the shower to see if the water was warm. After quickly undressing, she took a good hard look at the reflection in the mirror. Completely bare. Everywhere.

What could it hurt anyway?

She grabbed the towel from the counter and quickly wrapped it around her. When she stepped into the hall, Danny was almost to the front door, keys jingling in his hand while his ruck hung from one shoulder.

“Hey, Danny.” With his palm on the doorknob he turned around to face her. Bree waited until she had his full, undivided attention and then, when his eyes met hers, she grasped the tucked end of the towel and let it fall to the floor, leaving her standing there in all her naked glory. “Have a nice day.”

His jaw dropped along with his keys. The rucksack also hit the floor as he prowled toward her.

Bree waggled a finger at him. “Nuh uh uh. You’ll be late.”

Danny clenched his fists and groaned in frustration before retracing his steps. He walked backward to the door, unwilling to take his eyes off her. “I’ll get you for this, Dunbar,” he growled. “Mark my words.” He picked his things up from the floor, giving her a playful wink as he headed out the door.

Bree grabbed up her towel and walked into the bathroom, catching sight of her flushed skin in the mirror.

What had possessed her to do such a thing?

The giggle bubbled up from deep inside until she could no longer hold it in. One crazy little action and suddenly she felt more like her old self than she had in a very long time. Fun. Playful. Sometimes naughty. A little sexy.

Especially when Danny looked at her that way.

“L
OVE THE HAIR,”
Marie said, holding open the front door.

Bree smiled. “I found it at the party store and couldn’t resist.”

“Has Danny seen it?”

“Nope.”

Marie laughed as she gathered the kids and their abundance of stuff. Within minutes they were all loaded up in her minivan and on their way to the parade.

Danny forewarned her that St. Patrick’s Day took on a Mardi Gras vibe in Savannah. Each year, thousands of tourists dressed all in green invaded the normally quiet, historic city for one of the largest parades in the country. At first she was content to stay at home and avoid the whole ruckus. At least until she found out Danny would be marching in the parade, as that was tradition for the 1st Ranger Battalion.

So the day before she stopped at a local party store and found the amount of St. Patty’s Day stuff to be truly astonishing. Stacks upon stacks of green bowler hats. Short and long wigs in varying shades of green. Beads. Boas. “Kiss me I’m Irish” buttons. You name it, they had it. Deciding a hat would look far better on her than green synthetic hair, Bree chose one with a black band and sequined shamrock. But as she made her way to the checkout she happened upon an amazing wig—a huge mass of bright red-orange spiraling curls styled in long layers. She pulled it from the clear packaging and tried it on, knowing immediately she had to have it. And, just for added fun, she topped it with a little rhinestone tiara, making herself an Irish princess.

Who cared if Ireland didn’t have a royal family? Or that she was actually Scottish? Close enough.

The crowds were unbelievable. There were times when Myrtle Beach would be crowded with tourists, and homecoming weekend in college was kind of crazy. But she’d never seen anything like this. People from all walks of life dressed in every type of green clothing imaginable. There were the socialite types, with their stylish clothes and fancy hats. Then you had men with huge beer bellies who painted their faces in green, white, and orange. And here she thought she was being edgy with her bright red curls.

They parked in a church parking lot and still had to walk several blocks to the parade route. While Marie wrangled the twins and argued with a disinterested Leah, who spent most of the time with her head down, staring at her phone, Bree took the easier task of pushing the stroller with an adorable Hannah. Dressed in a green tutu and coordinating headband, she was quite the little flirt, smiling and babbling at all those who passed by.

On Bull Street they found several other regiment wives. After the brief introductions, she and Marie unfolded their chairs and settled in. There seemed to be an endless number of high school marching bands and crepe paper floats, along with bagpipers wearing tartan kilts.

“Is that all you brought?”

It took Bree a moment to realize Marie was talking about her small crossbody purse. “Should I have brought something else?”

“Figures Danny wouldn’t tell you about the tradition. All along the parade route women rush out into the street and kiss the troops. Kissing bandits, they call us. By the time they reach the end, the guys are decked out in green beads, green leis and covered in lipstick.”

Bree shook her head. “I didn’t know. I don’t have anything like that.”

“That’s okay. I have plenty.” Marie pulled a bag from the storage compartment of Hannah’s stroller. “As a matter of fact, I order it in bulk from an online party store.”

“I do have lipstick, though.” Bree pulled a pale pink lipstick from her bag.

Marie pushed her hand away. “No way. That won’t do. Put it away.” From her purse she pulled out a black tube and removed the cap, revealing a Crayola-red lipstick. “If you’re going to do it, you have to do it right.”

A block away, 1st Battalion rounded the corner and began making their way toward them. Unlike the other groups, they kept coming and coming, a massive sea of camouflaged uniforms and tan berets.

“How many guys are there?”

“The entire battalion?” Marie paused to smooth the bright red color over her lips. “About six hundred or so.”

“How am I supposed to find him? I’ll never be able to find him.”

Marie placed a hand on her arm. “They march as companies so that makes it easier. Also those who are staff sergeants or higher walk along the outside. They say it’s to keep an eye on the younger guys, but I think it’s so they get the most attention.” Marie laughed. “Even so, we try to sit in about the same place every year, so they’ll be looking for us.”

According to Marie, after the flag bearers came the battalion commanders and other officers that were part of HQ.

“Michael will be in with this group.”

“Wouldn’t that be weird? Kissing my brother-in-law?”

“No. A lot of times the mothers will come and kiss their sons on the cheek along with their buddies. Just a way to show someone is thinking of them. But if you’re going to do it, you need this.” She handed her the tube of bright red lipstick.

“Last time I wore this color was for a dance recital when I was nine.”

Marie laughed. “I’m afraid I left my bright blue eye shadow at home. So this will be all you get.”

Since the one thing they didn’t bring was a mirror, Bree let Marie put the lipstick on for her. Satisfied with her work, she gave Bree a little push, sending her into the street, strands of beads dangling from her hands. She spotted Michael, green beads hanging around his neck and an abundance of smeared red lip stains on his face. She called his name and gave a little wave, unsure if she should run into their formation or just wait at the sidelines. Thankfully, Michael came to her and leaned down, offering his cheek. “Nice hair.”

“Why, thank you,” she said, draping another strand of beads around his neck. “Looks like I’m not the first one to get ahold of you.”

“Afraid not,” he said with a smile. “But you’re the only one I’d go to willingly.”

“That bad, huh?”

Mike simply nodded as he retook his place within the battalion.

Bree laughed as she made her way back to Marie. “Well, that was fun.”

“See? I told you.”

Row after row of men in tan berets marched past. Although Marie said she’d tell her when, Bree couldn’t help but scan the many rows of men marching past, looking for Danny.