Jon’s lips thinned. “Parker’s immaturity aside,” he said, in a tone that suggested he was not actually setting it aside, “if all four of us had returned fire, no damn way those guys would have made a clean getaway. Instead, Lance and I had to focus on keeping the fire centralized on us, because we couldn’t assume the goal wasn’t maximum devastation instead of targeted execution. If your call for assistance had been treated with a proper response, those two punks might still be breathing.” He curled two fingers around the handle of his coffee mug. “And inthis case, if any of that, then one damn good Marine would not be hospital-bound today. We might’ve been discharged, but we still havefriends.”
Jenna rolled his words through her head, and snagged on a detail that was arguably not his point. “Wait, discharged?” She had assumed his return was temporary, if not somehow work-related.
Jon inclined his head, but his expression didn’t soften. “Little over a month ago,” he said.
“Doesn’t that mean—” She cut herself off and licked her lips, not sure how to phrase her question and less sure whether she was hoping for or afraid of the answer she’d get. Jon had been very clear about his ambitions. Was there a scenario where he fell short of that primary goal that wasn’t a bad thing?
“It means I’m home.” He met her widening stare. “Haven’t quite figured out what I’ll do with myself yet, but whatever that is, I want to do it here.”
It was like seeing him alive for the first time all over again. Jenna had never thought he’d come home, even before she’d heard the lie of his death. That was part of why she’d left Misty Glades after high school.
Yet there he sat, one average-sized table across from her, a grown and seemingly healthy man. And instead of choosing to spend his days doing unofficial Marine-stuff, which she was sure he could figure out a way to do, he was choosing to come home. It felt like he was saying he was coming back to her and her heart wanted so badly to run with that.
That’s not what he’s saying.He wouldn’t even have known she was there until after he’d returned.
Just like he didn’t know all she’d endured while he’d been away.
Jon leaned forward, stretching an arm across the table, and pulled one of her too-tightly clenched hands into his. “Jen,” hesaid, speaking softer, “if my being local will be a problem for you, you can tell me. I don’t give a fuck how it might mess up George’s reputation, and most of the town still thinks I’m dead. But if it’s you—”
“No,” she said, too quickly. She swallowed hard. “That’s not— I don’t feel that way at all. If you want to be home, Jon, then be home. That should only be your choice.” She couldn’t stop the tears as she laid her free hand over the one he still had curled around her other. “I’m actually really happy … to have you back. You know, in town.”Not back the other way.Because she didn’t, and she knew that. She just needed to remember it.
Their food was delivered mere seconds after Jenna pulled her hands away, feeling suddenly self-conscious. If Jon was back, if he was choosing to enter the next phase of his life in their little tucked-away hometown, then she needed to figure out how to get her shit together. Because before they’d dated, they’d been friends—not joined-at-the-hip besties, but close enough that the dating had almost happened by accident.Almost.
Jon had always been direct about what he wanted, at least once he decided to reach for it.
And now he wants to come home, so don’t make it weird for him.She didn’t even know why she was so flustered over the idea, over him. A few days ago she would have told herself she’d moved well past those old feelings.
“Jen,” he said, an odd note to his voice that pulled her effortlessly out of her unhelpful thoughts. He was staring at the plate of food, one half of his sandwich already gone and a strained pinch to his brow. “I know you’ve got a lot on your shoulders right now, so tell me if you can’t, but I wondered if I could … ask a favor?”
The hesitancy in his words alarmed her. Jenna lowered the fry she’d lifted off her plate and gave him her full attention. “Of course,” she said. “If you think it’s something I can help with.”
He huffed out a breath, like her words amused him, and met her gaze again. “Remember how I used to just show up wherever you were after I’d had it out with George?”
Bittersweet amusement rippled through her. “My parents were convinced I’d end up pregnant before I could graduate, with all the times you snuck in through my window.”
Jon chuckled. “I’m pretty sure your dad didn’t decide to like me until the day I shipped out.”
“That was more of a grudging respect thing.” There had probably also been some sympathy, though, seeing asherparents had come along to see him off at the airport in the city instead of his own. She still remembered the way her mother had cried with her after he’d disappeared from sight.
Jon took a moment to devour two fries, chased them with a large swallow of his water, and when he spoke again the lighthearted life his voice had gained had vanished. “When I saw George today,” he began, fingers tensing around the glass, “I learned … that my mom’s gone.”
Jenna froze, the air rushing from her. It hadn’t even occurred to her. How stupid was that? George had lied to everyonebeforeMama J passed. Jenna had always believed it was the news of Jon’s terrible loss that finally pushed her over the edge—though even she hadn’t learned about any of it in real-time. But she had just assumed he knew.Whyhad she assumed he knew?
“Oh, God, Jon, I’m sorry. It didn’t even occur to me you didn’t know.”
He gave a sharp shake of his head and released the water abruptly. “That’s not on you, and not my point.” He swallowed hard. “Apparently, she left me a letter. And I was sitting in my truck, staring at it like some chicken shit school boy, when I got your text.”
Her heart cracked at the visual and the way his jaw flexed as he spoke. She couldn’t say she understood why his mother wouldhave written him anything, but Mama J had become quite a notorious town drunk in her final years. Her mind surely hadn’t been clear. That didn’t mean Jon wouldn’t want to read her words.
“Why don’t we follow this up with a couple milkshakes to-go, and you come over to my place? My apartment’s nothing fancy, but it’s a little more private than here. And a little more comfortable, probably, than the cab of a truck.” She tried for a smile. “Also, I happen to not be working today, or tomorrow, so you can take as much time as you need. For reading, and processing, and all that.”
He clenched a fist for a long second. “You sure? I understand if there’s literally any reason you don’t feel up to it.”
“Jon.” She drew a breath, trying to figure out how to articulate herself, and lifted a fry. “That’s the thing about friendship. When it’s true, it doesn’t expire. It just goes quiet from time to time.”
Friendship.
It was an offer he should be grateful for, considering he’d left her in tears both of the last times he’d seen her. And she was right that they’d been friends, long ago. He ought to be satisfied with the implication of her words and drop it. Heneededto drop it.
