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An Officer and Her Gentleman Page 4


  Five minutes later, he plated the sandwiches and brought them, along with two glasses of water, over to the table to join Avery, who smiled up at him as he sat, all traces of moisture gone from those sapphire eyes.

  “Thank you for this,” she said softly, “and for everything. I owe you one.”

  “You don’t owe me anything,” he said. “What was I supposed to do, leave you out there alone on the side of the road? What kind of man would that make me?” He winked and picked up his sandwich.

  That coaxed a little grin out of her, which gave him more satisfaction than it should have.

  “I have to say, Mr. Meyer, you do seem like a stand-up guy. Do you make a habit of rescuing lost women in the middle of the night?” she asked, and he had the distinct feeling she was flirting with him a little.

  Something fluttered in his belly, and he didn’t think it was hunger.

  “I haven’t before,” he answered, “but after tonight, who knows? Maybe I will.”

  Avery laughed so hard at that cheesiness that the sip of water she’d just taken almost came out of her nose. Within minutes, they were both laughing like idiots, at what he really couldn’t say.

  But it felt good.

  After the weirdest night of his life, and after the too-strong sense of relief he now felt seeing that this woman, this soldier, could still laugh despite the things life had thrown her way, it felt good to join her in a moment of ridiculousness. It was almost as if something in his heart had come unknotted.

  Even though he knew it was completely irrational, he realized suddenly, with as much certainty and force as one might realize it’s raining as drops hit the ground, that he would do absolutely everything he could to help her get better.

  Chapter Four

  Avery’s heart hammered out a quick rhythm as she opened the back door slowly and with measured care—then winced as it squeaked loudly in protest, as if its intention was to inform the entire house of her...adventures.

  She resented feeling like a teenager, sneaking into her brother’s home. Just another reminder that her life as of late was anything but normal. And, oh, how she craved normal.

  “Morning, sweetheart.”

  Despite its softness, Macy’s greeting caused Avery to gasp and turn around so fast that whiplash wouldn’t have been an implausible outcome.

  “Holy goodness, Mace. You scared the living daylights out of me,” Avery said, shoving a hand against her heart. As she leaned back and let her spine rest against the closed door, fighting to catch her breath, she studied her sister-in-law. Macy was, as always, as pretty at the crack of dawn—with her golden hair all messy and the imprint of a pillow seam etched into her cheek—as she had been on her and Tommy’s wedding day. Avery indulged in the memory—a time when everything was simpler, purer—before she’d brought home a personal hell that had begun to seep into all their lives.

  “Speaking of daylights,” Macy said quietly, tugging her frayed, pink terry-cloth robe tighter around her waist, “the sun hasn’t even risen and here you are looking like you’ve had quite a night.”

  Avery’s lips formed a thin line, but she held Macy’s gaze, despite the temptation to look away from what she saw in the sweet, open face.

  “What do you want me to say?”

  Macy closed her eyes and then opened them again, sympathy etched into her features. “I just want you to be okay, honey, that’s all. We all do.” She looked as though she might want to touch or hold Avery, but knew better from experience.

  Even though the conversation wasn’t anything new, something tugged at Avery’s heartstrings and for a second she longed to just collapse and let it all out—to tell someone how desperately scared she was, how the nightmares kept getting worse, and how she couldn’t always tell the difference between those and the flashbacks. How sometimes she wasn’t sure whether she was awake or asleep.

  But something else, something strange and new, told her this wasn’t the time or place...but that maybe she was getting close to being able to do just that...and that maybe Isaac was that place. As Macy waited for an answer to the questions she hadn’t voiced out loud but were always there, Avery thought back to the man she’d met that morning.

  Even under the strange circumstances that brought them together last night, he had been so calm, so sturdy and safe, like a lighthouse in a raging storm. He’d taken care of her without hesitation, and for some reason she knew he would have done the same for any wayward creature.

  He was the embodiment of that most rare and beautiful thing, something Avery had seen precious little of over the past few years: basic human kindness.

  “Well, now, there’s something you don’t see every day,” Macy said, a giggle bubbling up around her words. “You want to tell me what has you smiling like that, or is it a secret?”

  Avery, disbelieving, reached up and touched a finger to her lips, realizing only upon feeling their upward curve to what her sister-in-law referred. Before she could form a response, Macy’s eyes lit up and her mouth opened wide.

  “Oh, my gosh, Avery,” she blurted. “Were you—” she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned forward “—were you...with a guy?”

  “No!” Avery spat, but she wasn’t fooling anyone. She winced. “Well, technically, yes, but it’s not what it seems.” She held her palms out, hoping for emphasis.

  Macy eyed her with blatant skepticism. “Yeah,” she said, grinning, “usually when people say that, it’s exactly what it seems.”

  A little unexpected laugh escaped from Avery’s throat. She peered at her sister, her friend, with narrow eyes. “You’ve been watching too many romantic comedies,” she said, hoping to divert attention away from herself, blushing a little at the mere thought that Macy’s suggestion put into her head.

  She had a feeling it wouldn’t go away as easily or as quickly as it had arrived. Isaac’s dark, unruly hair twisted around her fingers, those deep brown eyes gazing at her with...with what, exactly? Lust? Over her?

  Not likely, at least not in her current state of skin and bones. She’d need to put on a good ten pounds before anything like that happened, or someone might get hurt. Before she could stop them, more thoughts tumbled in, unbidden. Suddenly, she remembered being carried in those arms—strong arms, brandished a deep gold by the Texas sun—and, for once, the thought of being held didn’t seem quite so scary. It was nice to feel attraction to a man, a welcome distraction from her usual preoccupations.

  “Something tells me I’m not too far off,” Macy said, interrupting Avery’s ridiculous reverie.

  It would be great if her dreams were more like that than the terrifying things they actually were. She met her sister-in-law’s curious gaze. “No,” she answered truthfully. “I did run into your neighbor Isaac Meyer, but it’s not like what you’re thinking.”

  Macy’s shoulders sagged and Avery’s heart bruised. How desperately she longed to bring smiles to her loved ones’ faces—not pain or disappointment.

  Macy reached out a hand, tentatively, and after a second’s hesitation, Avery grabbed it, anxiety and a desire for comfort raging a familiar battle at the sensation of human contact. Macy’s expression registered the wound, but there wasn’t much to say on the subject that hadn’t already been rehashed a hundred times.

  Her family knew she’d suffered plenty of emotional trauma during her last tour; she spared them the details of what happened in that place. She knew that these people who loved her were not the enemy. She knew they meant her no harm, but her body, and parts of her mind, still struggled with the difference between a friendly touch and a hostile one.

  “I’d be lying if I said it wouldn’t be nice to see you spending some time with a sweet fella,” Macy answered. “Isaac Meyer definitely fits the bill, and that boy has been single for way too long.” She gently squeezed Avery’s hand before tuggi
ng her in the direction of the kitchen. “Come on. Let’s get some caffeine in you and you can tell me what exactly did happen.”

  She winked and Avery rolled her eyes, but allowed herself to be led toward the energizing scent of fresh coffee.

  Maybe it wouldn’t hurt for her to talk to Macy about the strange past few hours. Maybe it would be nice to share breakfast and silly, carefree chatter about a man, like the old days.

  Or at least she could pretend to, for her family’s sake.

  * * *

  “All set?” Macy asked later that morning as Avery stepped into the lobby following her weekly appointment with Dr. Santiago, her therapist.

  Avery nodded and Macy smiled warmly as she put down a magazine she’d been reading, grabbed her purse and stood to leave. They walked quietly to the elevator, Avery reviewing her session with Dr. Santiago. Though she saw the doctor regularly, most of her previous appointments ran together, characterized only by the strong feeling that nothing ever really changed; some days were better than others, but overall, she felt she’d made no true progress over the past several months, a thought that only served to decrease her confidence that she would someday get past it all.

  But today—something felt different. Something felt...better. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Was it that she had tried harder to talk about her struggles? Had she simply opened up more? Yes, and no. She shook her head as she reached out to punch the down button on the panel between two elevators. Perhaps she’d made a little more effort than usual to speak frankly with the doctor, but it wasn’t just that. She always did her best during her sessions, always pushed as far as she could go, working to excavate that deep abyss of painful war memories. No. This time, it was something else. Something to do with her night with Isaac.

  “So, I was thinking,” Macy said, her words tentative, almost as though she knew before she spoke them that whatever idea she had would be shot down. Avery winced, fully aware that she had a large part in making her sister-in-law feel that way around her.

  Avery looked over to see Macy fiddling with her purse strap, her forehead creased. “What is it?”

  “Well, you know that new nail salon they just opened up the street from here?”

  “Uh-huh,” Avery answered, her thoughts still partly focused on her session with Dr. Santiago. She heard Macy swallow.

  “I was thinking we could stop on the way to the grocery and maybe get pedicures or something.” She looked over at Avery, cautious hope in her eyes. “My treat.”

  A sharp ding sound rang out and the elevator doors slid open. Once they’d stepped inside and chosen the ground floor as their destination, Avery glanced over at Macy, who was biting her lower lip now, her features giving away her trepidation.

  Avery’s heart sank. How many times had she said no to such a simple request, to things that Macy offered as a way to reach out to her, in constant effort to help her through her tough times? How many times had she denied those offers, yet they kept coming? She smiled softly at Macy, realizing for the first time how lucky she was to have this persistent, positive woman in her life. How many others had she hurt and pushed away because she was too afraid they wouldn’t be able to handle the new, dark parts of her soul?

  “I’d like that,” she said, and Macy’s face lit up. Macy squeezed her palms and raised her forearms, then lowered them quickly so as not to appear too excited.

  “It’s okay,” Avery said, giggling. “You can be happy about it.”

  “Yay!” Macy cried out as she did a little bounce, causing them both to laugh.

  The elevator stopped and both women stepped out into the parking garage.

  “Look, Macy, I know it must be hard for you to keep...trying...with me, and—” Avery swallowed over the lump developing in her throat, startled by the sudden onslaught of emotion “—I want you to know I notice how hard you’ve been trying to make me feel better.” She closed her eyes, working to organize her thoughts around the most important thing she needed to get across. “I mean to say that I’m thankful for you. For all that you and Tommy do for me, really. But especially you.”

  Macy stopped and turned toward Avery, her eyes filling as she reached out and wrapped her sister-in-law in a hug, squeezing hard.

  When she let go, they walked to the car in silence, both smiling. It felt good to say yes to something, even something as small as a pedicure with a special family member—and friend—who’d remained close, no matter how hard Avery unintentionally pushed her away. She thought of that night with Isaac, how she’d allowed him to feed and care for her, despite feeling afraid of what conclusions he might draw about the state of her mental health. It was almost as though that choice—the choice to let someone new in, despite the difficulty it took to do so—was an opening for other opportunities that she’d been missing out on for so long.

  Besides, she thought, grinning to herself, she could use some color on her toes. She decided then that she would pick something bright, something that would make her feel uplifted when she looked down at her feet. Something that maybe Isaac might notice and like.

  As Macy pulled her car out into the sunshine, a small spark of life lit up somewhere deep inside the darkest place in Avery’s heart.

  Chapter Five

  What had seemed like a good idea earlier that morning was really just a sack of zucchini in the light of day.

  Isaac could have kicked his own ass for not coming up with a better ruse for stopping by to check on Avery Abbott after the night they’d spent in each other’s company. A week had passed since that strange night—the slowest week of his life. He’d only been able to go through the motions during that time, each task permeated with thoughts of a woman unlike any other he’d ever met.

  But still...zucchini? Anyone would be able to see through his excuse. The vegetable was insanely easy to grow, even in a dry-as-a-bone Texas summer like the one they were having—they were so good at growing that anyone within a hundred miles of Peach Leaf who wanted the vegetables already had enough to feed an army. People could only stand so many salads and breads and desserts with the stuff snuck in. But, for some knuckleheaded reason, Isaac had decided that bringing a bag of the green things would pass as a decent excuse to visit his neighbor’s farm.

  Yes, that’s correct, he thought. I’m bringing a crap ton of zucchini...to a farm. He shook his head. Hell, it might have come from that very farm, he noted with a sinking sensation in his belly.

  With so many well-meaning locals—overwhelmingly widows and grannies...and widowed grannies—dropping off food at his place on a regular basis, he lost track of its origins. He didn’t hold it against all the sweet gals, but once in a while, it was enough to make him consider moving to Austin, where a thirtysomething bachelor wasn’t likely to turn so many heads.

  He pulled his four-wheeler into Tommy and Macy’s drive, careful to watch out for free-range chickens and goats. He got out and Jane jumped down from her perch on the seat in front of him, hightailing it up the porch steps. As the front door swung open, the scent of something sweet cooking wafted out into the already warm air.

  “Hey, Janie girl,” Tommy said, scratching the dog between her ears before she invited herself into the house. “Hey, bud,” he said, turning to Isaac and heading down the steps, cup of coffee in hand.

  “Mornin’, Tom,” Isaac said, returning the greeting as he reached into the seat compartment to pull out the embarrassing sack of vegetables.

  Tommy’s eyebrows rose up so far they almost met the brim of his straw Stetson. When Isaac just stood there, holding the offending sack away from him like a baby with a dirty diaper, realization crossed Tommy’s features and he started to slowly back away, holding up a hand. “Aw, no way, man. Macy’s got so many of those damn things. If she strung all the little bastards together, they’d reach the moon and back.”

  Isaac
cursed and swung the bag over his shoulder, feeling more and more like a complete idiot.

  “What in the world were you thinking bringing those things here?” Tommy continued, keeping his distance. “You lost your ever-lovin’ mind, my friend?” He took a long sip of his coffee, clearly waiting for a response.

  The two men had been good friends ever since Isaac inherited his grandma’s property and moved in to the old ranch house. They were living proof that opposites really do attract. Isaac, who wasn’t usually keen on too much chatter, had taken an instant liking to his neighbor, despite the fact that the man never shut his mouth and could carry on a conversation with just about anybody or anything. His easygoing habit of yakking made Isaac comfortable, mostly because he didn’t have to say much for them to get along just fine, and, well, Tommy was just so damn nice. Also, it was obvious that the man doted on his family, as if Macy had hung the moon, and their two little ones, all the stars in the sky.

  It was exactly the kind of family Isaac had always pictured having himself one day. If only he could find the right girl. Someone who wouldn’t mind his quiet nature and his shyness around new people. Someone, maybe, kind of like Avery Abbott—his true reason for dropping by.

  “Oh, just forget about those things and come on in. Macy’s got breakfast on. But, if you think it’s just flour, milk and sugar in those waffles, guess again. It’s like I said before, that girl has stuffed those green devils into everything we’ve eaten in the past month because she hates to waste them, and, I’m telling you, at least fifty more popped up in her garden overnight.”

  Isaac smiled at his friend’s happy chatter.