Page 22 of A Veteran's Desire
“We should go in if you’re cold.”
He stops, and I turn to face him. In the moonlight, his expression is hard to read, but the semi-darkness makes me bold.
“I don’t want to go in.”
His face is inches from mine and I take a step closer, backing him up against a cherry tree.
“Hannah…” His voice has a plea to it that I don’t understand. But if he doesn’t want me, he’s going to have to tell me.
His back is to the tree trunk, and he has nowhere else to go. I step forward so my legs are between his. He slides his arms around my waist, and his gaze darts to my lips.
He holds me for a moment and I close my eyes, ready for the kiss. But instead he spins me around, and suddenly my back is against the tree and Grant is backing away.
“No.” It comes out with all the force of two days of frustration. “Don’t walk away from me, Grant. Tell me what’s going on.”
He gives me a pained look. “I’m sorry, Hannah. I shouldn’t have done that the other night. You were so damn sexy and you needed a release, and I thought I could give you what you need.”
“No, Grant, I needed you. That’s what I needed.”
We stand staring at each other, my confession hanging on the air. It’s the first time I’ve voiced it out loud. It’s the first time I’ve admitted it to myself. I want Grant, and it hurts that he’s holding back. Tears threaten my eyes and I blink them back, but not before Grant sees them.
“Hey, don’t cry.” He reaches for me, and I bat his hand away.
“How am I meant to not get upset when you’re toying with my emotions?”
He goes still. “I’m sorry, Hannah. It’s not what I meant to do.”
He sounds genuine, and there’s hurt in his expression. He runs a hand down his face and lets out a long agonized sigh.
There’s a bench under the next tree and Grant crosses to it and sits down. “You’re right, you deserve an explanation.”
He beckons me to sit next to him and I cross to where he is but remain standing, my arms folded across my chest. This had better be good, or I’m walking away and not looking back.
“I lost someone on my last mission.”
The air goes out of my lungs and with it all the anger. This isn’t about me at all. Feeling like an ass, I sink into the seat next to him. “I’m sorry.”
“His name was Mason. He was young, only twenty-three. He’d just gotten married and had a baby.” His voice quavers. “Mason and Kent were in the sniper hide when a grenade was thrown in. They dived in different directions, and Mason got pinned under rubble.”
I cover my mouth. We don’t often hear the realities of war, of fighting that happens in other countries far away.
“I was the only operative in the vicinity. I neutralized the threat and called for backup, but every second counts when someone’s injured.”
Grant looks into the distance at the end of the orchard as if he’s reliving the experience.
“I was a street away and couldn’t see them. Mason was on the radio, but there was nothing from Kent. He’d been thrown into the street in the opposite direction of Mason.”
“I had to decide which one to go to. Mason’s legs were pinned, but he said he was okay. He even joked about being sent home. I followed my training, went to the unresponsive man, administered first aid, and only then went to Mason.”
He puts his head in his hands. “I should have picked up on the cues. Mason was delirious and in shock. I missed the signs, and by the time I got to him he was gone. He bled out in the dust.”
Grant sits back on the seat, and his hands ball into fists. “If I’d recognized the signs and gone to Mason first, he’d still be alive.”
For the first time, Grant’s completely unguarded. I see the man he hides from me, the anguish and guilt written in his expression. I take his hand in mine and his fingers relax. All this time, I thought it was something I was doing wrong, but he’s been carrying this around on his own. I squeeze his hand, letting him know I’m here, ready to support him in any way he needs.
“That’s why you’re so vigilant.”
I thought Grant was observant because of his job, but he’s terrified of missing something, of making a wrong decision.
