Allison breaks into a full-belly laugh. “Damn, girl, you almost look post-coitus.”
She sits back in her chair, her shoulders slumped, and opens her eyes. “Don’t tell Rhys, but this is almost better than sex right now.”
Rhys must be her husband. I glance at the ring on her finger. It’s a large solitaire with channel-set stones in a platinum band next to another platinum band with more stones set in it. My engagement ring was simpler than that. It was big, but it reminded me of something a man would pick because it was safe. It wasn’t something that I had dreamed of as a little girl, but I told myself it’s the thought that counts.
The food smells heavenly, so I add bacon, sausage and eggs to my plate. There is also a stack of French toast, but it won’t fit on my plate, as I look around the table, Allison hands me another plate with a smile.
“Are you still trying to use sex to bring on labor?” Allison chuckles as she takes a bite of bacon.
“Much to Rhys’s delight, yes.” She rubs her belly again as she stuffs another piece of cream cheese with an olive in her mouth. She talks with her mouth full. “He loves this beach ball, he wakes up hard and goes to bed hard. I, on the other hand, can’t wait to get this little guy’s feet out of my lungs and his head off my bladder. But the doctor says that orgasms can help bring on labor, so bring on the sex.”
They chatter back and forth for a minute as I pour syrup over my French toast. In my head, I can hear Matt saying, ‘Should you be eating that much sugar? Your butts looking bigger lately.’ The usual pinch of shame and anger heats my face, and I pour even more syrup on the toast.
“So, when’s Tuck’s appointment?” The mention of his name pulls me out of my mini dark spiral, and I look up at Kinley.
“We have to be there at two.”
All humor falls from Allison’s face, and she stabs a piece of scrambled egg with her fork. “How’s he doing?”
Pushing the tray away, all Kinley’s playfulness evaporates. Somehow, her grumpy brother manages to upset her even when he’s not around.
With a sad, deep breath, she looks at her friend. “God, I miss him. No matter what we do, he’s just… gone.”
“What happened?” The question escapes on a breath before I realize I’ve asked, and when they both look my way, my face heats with color. “Oh, if you don’t mind my asking.”
“You can’t tell him I told you; he’d get mad.” Kinley’s hazel eyes are almost pleading as she looks at me.
“He doesn’t like me, I don’t think there’s any chance of him and I even making small talk.” I recall the look he gave me when he first saw me at the pub.
Kinley rolls her eyes. “He doesn’t like anyone. Believe it or not, Tucker used to be fun-loving and laughedallthe time.”
Trying to imagine the hard grimace on his face both times I’ve seen him turn to a smile is impossible. He’s got to be the grumpiest person I’ve ever encountered. When my eyebrows move up my forehead in surprise, Kinley laughs.
“It’s true. He was in the Air Force for almost fifteen years, worked his way up to combat controller…”
Allison interrupts her. “That’s a big deal in military speak. He was a pilot.”
Kinley looks at her friend and then back at me, “He was one of the special forces guys they drop in when things got bad, his team was kind of like a five-man army.” She nods and shrugs her shoulders. “Anyway, he was on one of his ‘missions,’ as they call it,” she makes finger quotes when she says it. “He can’t give us details, but there was a bomb, and his leg was barely hanging on. They almost amputated it.”
My eyes go wide. No wonder he’s such a grump, his whole life was pulled out from under him. When he left last week, he left almost two hundred dollars on the table for a twenty-five-dollar tab. I slid the money in my pocket, half expecting him to come back for it when he realized he’d left too much, but he never came back.
Did he leave a big tip as an apology for being an ass?
“One of his teammates died on a stretcher next to him when they were flying them out to get medical attention.” Allison adds.
“It really screwed with his head.” Kinley says as she pushes her little plate away.
As I start to feel sorry for him, I look through the cloak of misery that he’s donned and try to see the man he used to be. He’s extremely good-looking with the scowl, and I try to imagine how he would look with a smile. I bet he’s drop-dead gorgeous.
Shit.
I can’t let myself think that way. There’s no room for attraction, or feelings, or anything like that. As soon as my car is fixed, I’m leaving. No attachments.
Taking a deep breath, I push aside my wandering thoughts. “So, he has physical therapy for his leg every week?”
Rolling her eyes again, Kinley lets out a huff. “Yes, and he hates it. He’s in so much pain by the time we get out that he’s almost a bear. Not wanting to take it out on everyone at home, he goes to the pub on those nights to get away. He says having a few beers helps dull the pain in his leg and his head.”
So, I get to deal with him again tonight. Yay me.
