Page 64 of Allegiance
“It is,” she whispered. “I’m doing better with it. I go a couple times a month to my therapist. It helps me to keep things in perspective. I’m still working through the grief.”
“Where did the plane go down?”
“In Peru, over the Andes Mountains. My parents offered free medical services through an organization called Doctors Helping Others. They joined the program when I started high school, and I always went with them. It was an amazing experience.” Looking down, she fiddled with the hem of her shirt. “I wasn’t with them on that trip because I was away at school. For a long time, I wished I had been with them on that plane. Sometimes, I still do.”
In three long strides, he was kneeling down in front of her and wrapping her in his arms. When she rested her head on his shoulder, he squeezed her tighter.
“I’m sorry for your pain. You can lean on me anytime, darlin’.” He brushed his lips against her hair, a light caress she wouldn’t feel. Her hair smelled of orange and coconut, reminiscent of a day at the beach, her skin warm and soft under his touch.
“It’s just so hard sometimes,” she murmured.
“Shh.”
She tipped her head back, and he saw a glimmer of tears in her eyes.
He swiped his thumb across her cheek. “Lena…”
Brushing his lips over hers, she moaned. The sound shot straight to Tank’s dick. Afraid to spook her, he nudged her head back against his shoulder and held her.
A few minutes later, Lena pulled away and smiled. “Man, you really know how to change the subject, but you’re not getting off that easy.” She pointed to the couch. “Go back over there, sit down, and tell me about the woman who broke your heart.”
He frowned, but a smile danced along his lips. “You’re like a damn dog with a bone,” he grumbled as he rose to his feet. “I’ll go back there on the condition that you join me.”
“Now you’re setting conditions?” she said in a playful tone.
“You can’t callallthe shots, woman.”
Tank stood rooted to the spot until she pushed up from the chair—with a very audible and exaggerated sigh—and trudged over to the couch, plopping down at one end of it. Taking the spot at the other end, he turned toward her.
“The story is, my ex-wife was a conniving, cheating bitch.”
Her hand flew to her mouth. “You were married?”
He laughed. “Don’t sound so shocked.”
She giggled nervously. “Sorry. I mean… I don’t know. You don’t strike me as the marrying type.”
“Yeah, well, I was young, and dumber than fuck.”
“How long were you married?”
“Too long.”
“No, really.”
“Almost six years. Trisha and I met in our last year of high school. We got hitched when we were nineteen—too horny, young, and stupid.” Tank picked up the empty beer bottle. “You got another one of these?” Lena started to get up, but he gestured for her to sit down. “I can get it. Just tell me where to find it.”
“There’s a door to the left of the pantry. The bottles are in the mini fridge.”
“Do you want anything?” he asked, heading toward the kitchen.
“A glass of white wine would be great. The glasses are—”
“I know where they are. I cooked you breakfast, remember?”
After securing two bottles of beer in one hand, and a wineglass filled with pinot grigio in the other, he walked back into the living room and put the drinks down on the table before resuming his seat.
“Was the divorce one-sided?” she asked, picking up her drink.
