Page 34 of Hard to Lose

“Humph. You really do like her, don’t you?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I ask.

“Men don’t take one-night stands back to their houses. They take them to hotels. They take them to the woman’s place . . . but never their own. Unless of course, you want to see her again because if so, you just showed her where you live.”

“Your logic is . . .” But I can’t finish my train of thought because she’s right. I honestly don’t think I’ve ever taken a one-night stand home with me.

“You sure your girlfriend ain’t crazy? Because if she is, you’re going to have to move.”

“She’s not crazy, Ellie. She’s . . .” Perfect. Sexy. Funny. Intelligent.

She cackles out a knowing laugh. “I’ll repeat myself: you really do like her. So when are you going to call her?”

“I don’t know.”

Her sigh is heavy. “Gunner, Gunner, Gunner. Honey, this is not like you.”

“It’s not?”

“No. I’ve seen you come in here after a good night of sex and all, but this one—this woman—has you a little tied up.”

“I wish she had me a lot tied up,” I tease.

“The kids were as exhausting today as you’re being right now,” she mutters.

“Funny.” I close my eyes and lean my head back against the wall.

“I know I am. But I also know if you like her this much, then don’t be playing those stupid-ass games men like to play. Call her. See her. Enjoy her. You know better than most that life is too goddamn short to play games.”

“Amen to that,” I murmur and close my eyes again to block the flashbacks that come when I do.

The acrid smell.

The concussive blast.

The violent pain.

The world falling apart all around me.

And the carnage when it was all over.

I shake my head to rid it of the past. Of the memories that I’ll never get over, never forget, but somehow need to move on from.

“Trey is struggling,” I say, because it’s easier to focus on one of the kids than it is to focus on me.

“I know and it’s heartbreaking.”

“It’s always heartbreaking,” I say, as I think of the little boy and his big gray eyes. How they looked up at me with huge alligator tears in them as he asked me why his daddy wasn’t coming home.

“You remember that far back, yeah?” she asks. There’s a reason we both do this. Two army brats who both lost our fathers and then became soldiers ourselves.

“Bits and pieces, but sometimes I wonder what’s real versus what I’ve seen in pictures and then fabricated in my mind from there.”

“I think we’re all like that.”

“But more than anything, I remember looking out the window and even though I’d been told he wasn’t coming back, still looking for him to come up the walkway in his uniform with those black boots squeaking as he went.”

She nods and places a hand on my thigh. “We do good here, Gunny. It’s easy to lose sight of that sometimes, but we make a difference.”