His Girl Next Door: The Army Ranger's Return / New York's Finest Rebel / The Girl from Honeysuckle Farm. Trish Wylie
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minutes later, and still hot under the collar, Jessica found Ryan sitting back on one of her chairs, eyes closed, basking in the sun. A very put-out-looking Hercules lay nearby, ball neglected between his front paws.
She leant over to put the tray of food and drinks on the table when Ryan’s eyes popped open. He looked lazy, comfortable.
Gorgeous.
She pushed the thought away as he ran a hand through his hair and then down his face, as if to wake himself up.
“You’ve got no idea how good this is, just sitting here.”
“Sandwich?”
He took it happily and started eating. Jessica made herself do the same, even though swallowing was like forcing large chunks through a sieve.
They sat in silence for a bit. Eating. Watching the dog chase his tail then start stalking a bird.
“Don’t get me wrong, Jess, but I could have sworn you had something other than my going back to war on your mind before.”
This time she actually choked. Had to reach for her coffee and take a big gulp. What had happened to the stereotype of brooding soldier who hardly said a word and wasn’t up with the whole feelings thing? She had expected him to be quiet and reserved, but the reality of him was anything but. He’d either come out of his shell big-time, or he was making a huge effort here.
And hadn’t they put this behind them and started over?
“Sorry, went down the wrong way,” she stuttered.
Ryan didn’t look convinced, just reached for another sandwich.
“Whatever you say.”
She sighed.
“It’s true I’ve had a lot going on this past year, but I just wasn’t expecting to have to worry about you going back on top of it all. That’s all.”
It wasn’t technically a lie. She would worry about him when he was gone. But when he’d told her, her mind had wandered. To a place she didn’t want to go and shouldn’t have let herself be drawn back to.
“Jessica?”
She put on the brave face she had perfected over the months of treatment she’d received and turned back to him.
“I’m fine, honestly. Tell me about you. What do you want to do while you’re home? Do you need somewhere to stay?”
She held her breath, hoping he’d say no. There was no way she could deal with him staying here. Not now. It was messing her head up just trying to be normal around him for an afternoon.
“Tempting offer, but no, thanks.”
She tucked her feet up beneath her on the seat and turned to face him. It was comforting in a way to watch his face, but off-putting at the same time. Hard to fathom this man sitting here was the author of all those letters, the ones that had kept her going, even through the hard times. Given her something to look forward to and something to focus on.
His eyes softened as he smiled, laughter lines etched ever so slightly into his tanned skin.
“I’ve been hoping you might have some good advice to throw my way.” He paused, taking a sip of his coffee. “On how to deal with a twelve-year-old boy who can’t seem to bear the sight of me.”
Her heart throbbed for a moment, feeling his pain. But she recovered without him noticing.
“When you say he can’t bear the sight of you …”
Ryan grimaced. “I mean that he gets up and leaves the room the moment he sees me, or suffers my presence at mealtime by sitting silently and not raising his eyes.”
Oh. “And your parents?”
That brought the smile back to his face. “Thrilled to have their only son home and desperate for me to reconnect with my own boy.”
She thought about it for a moment. The nice thing about already having a relationship with someone, even if it was on paper, was that silent stretches weren’t uncomfortable. Or at least they weren’t with Ryan.
She unfolded her legs and leaned toward him.
“I know it’s going to sound like a cliché, saying that you just need to give him time, especially after all the time you’ve been away, but I think he’ll come around. He’s probably angry at you for leaving and staying away so long, and he wants answers. You need to let him know that when he does want to ask you questions you can be there for him, straight up, honest.”
Ryan closed his eyes and sat back. She could see this was painful for him, but he was better to get it all off his chest with her.
Besides, talking about him was taking her mind off the fact that she was attracted to him. That his being there, beside her, was making her have feelings she’d long ago abandoned when it came to men. And it also made her push her memories back where they belonged. Locked in a box, out of mind’s reach.
He smiled sadly. “You’re right, but sometimes I wonder if he’d have been better off if I’d just stayed away.”
Jessica shook her head. It wasn’t true and he knew it.
“Why don’t you practice on me,” she suggested, voice soft. “You can pretend I’m George.”
He nodded. She only just registered the incline of his head as he moved it.
Jessica took a deep breath. “Okay, I’ll start.” She paused. “Why did you really go back to war so soon? Why didn’t you come home? Stay with me?”
He kept his eyes shut. “I can’t answer that.”
She sighed and sat back. On second thought she reached for his hand, wanting to give him strength even if it hurt her. “If you can’t be honest with me, how are you going to be honest with a boy who wants the truth?”
She watched as Ryan’s thumb traced her palm, holding her hand back. It felt so good it hurt, but she didn’t dare pull her hand away. Couldn’t. The tingle in her fingertips and the pulse at her neck were enough to make her stay put.
When he was ready to talk he dropped his hold and pulled his chair around to face her head-on. She forced herself to breathe, had to concentrate on every inhale and exhale of her lungs.
“Okay, let’s do this.”
She nodded, still off balance from touching him, from his skin connecting with hers. From wanting him to do it again and hating herself for even thinking about him like that.
Ryan squeezed his eyes shut one more time then focused, looking firmly into hers.
“I left because going away was easier than staying. I was a coward and I should have been here for you.”
Jessica gulped silently as tears pooled in her eyes. This was what he’d been needing to say for so long. There was no disguising the pain in his voice.
“Go on,” she urged huskily.
“I told myself that you would be better off without me, and I felt guilty over your mom’s death. Like if only I’d loved her more, been here for her more, she could have pulled through. Everyone thought we had this perfect life, and in many ways we did, but then when she got sick everything just went into free fall, and after a while it was easier to just stay away than deal with her death.” He paused. “And with you.”
Jessica stood and walked away a few steps. She couldn’t help it. Tears hit her cheeks and trickled their way down her jaw. She’d known hurt before, known what it was like to be left, but she also knew what it was like to be the one who did the hurting.
“Jess?”
“I’m sorry, it’s just …”
“Did I say something wrong?” He sounded concerned.
She reached her