Page 22 of A Spark of Luck
“Ask for leave and make it work, Bossman. You won’t be sorry.”
Hunt sipped his coffee and watched Doogie clear his plate. Find a way back to Cait to figure stuff out.
Like it was that easy.
§§§§
Cait had moments that stayed embedded in memory and would be part of her kaleidoscope on the day she died.
Losing her father and brother in a car accident. The agony of that loss could rip through her at the oddest moments.
The euphoria when she made med school.
The commitment and pride in joining the army.
The horror of her first time in a war zone.
She turned her head to glance at Ryan Coleman, the movie theatre dark around them. The sound from the movie bounced through the theatre. The action generated loud noises making her tense. This was the last time she let him pick the movie. Even the smell of popcorn wasn’t soothing.
His easy smile and friendly manner had convinced her to move on with her personal life. He smiled at her, clasped her hand, and kissed the back. She’d been dating the man for three months and still couldn’t let her guard down. He sensed that fact and had been subtly pressuring her to trust him. Which brought her to the last memory permanently and painfully embedded.
Her night with Hunt. A night she talked about with no one except Jackie. A night she continued to define as crazy insane and a product of a war zone.
Things were blowing up on the screen. She was trying to appear absorbed, but truth be told, she’d lost the thread of this movie about ten minutes in. After spending a bunch of her professional life in war zones dealing with the reality of explosions, the destruction held little appeal.
God knew she was trying for normal, and Ryan was a darn nice guy, but a relationship wasn’t happening. He was expecting things she had no plans to deliver.
Hell, she had trouble kissing him, and sex was not ever happening.
She wanted nothing that would wipe away the memory of being close to Hunt. No matter how handsome, how smart, how personable Ryan was, she couldn’t let go of the committed, rough-edged SEAL whom she knew so little about.
To explain to Ryan meant she would have to reveal the details of that encounter, let out passionate, overwhelming feelings that made no sense in context with how long they’d known each other, and to finally share why she was still hung-up months later.
And justify why today she’d said yes to a third tour of Afghanistan.
Ryan wouldn’t understand. Her logic didn’t make sense. But the moment she’d been contacted to fill in for an injured colleague, she’d jumped.
That colleague was a friend, and covering for him would be no hardship. But she was betting heavy money on being able to find Hunt again during those six months. How to explain to Ryan.
She stifled a jerk when his hand closed on her neck and rubbed. “You’re tense, babe. Relax.”
She gave him a half-smile and turned back to the movie. No interest in catching up to the story, she wished like hell she was on call tonight and could plead a need to go to the hospital.
Yet it was time.
Time to let him down any way possible. She’d be leaving for Afghanistan in four short weeks, and she couldn’t manage all these conflicting emotions – the anticipation of seeing Hunt again, the hurt she was about to inflict on a decent man, and the difficult atmosphere of Bagram and Kabul.
“Do you want to leave?” Ryan whispered in her ear. If she were truly engaged, his hand in hers and his quiet question should have been a signal to tune into him. All she wanted to do was tap out.
She turned and nodded at him. The theatre was half-full, and they’d sat toward the side aisle so getting out without disturbing everyone wasn’t a problem. That he’d tuned into her not enjoying the movie wasn’t unusual for him. He had to be aware that she was messed up seven ways to Sunday, buthe was sticking. Which would be sweet if she cared. She did in one way and did not in a big way.
She grabbed her purse, and in one motion moved toward the door. Out in the hallway, she waited for him to whine about missing the movie, but he was carefully studying her.
“Dinner instead?”
Cait shook her head. “Too tired. Too distracted. I want to go home. I’m sorry. I know you were looking forward to this movie.”
“I’ll get tickets again and come alone. I should have known a war movie wouldn’t suit.” He took her hand, and she stopped the urge to pull back. She didn’t want this conversation in public.
