Back in the Soldier's Bed

He turned his head a little and met her gaze. She knew he didn’t want to talk about it. She also knew he had to let it out if they were going to move forward and establish some sort of status quo.

“Shannyn, you don’t know what you’re asking.”

“I’m willing to take that chance.”

“Maybe I’m not. Maybe I’m not willing to put you and Emma through this.” He spun away, running his hand over the stubble on his jaw. But the veneer was starting to crack.

Shannyn looked at him. Why did he mean so much to her? It went so much deeper than the fact that he was Emma’s father. She stared at his broad shoulders, the way his combat trousers sat on his hips. It was more than attraction to his physicality. She remembered the sight of the jagged scar running down his thigh. It wasn’t sympathy, either.

The truth of the matter was, six years ago he’d been the only man she’d ever loved. She hadn’t loved anyone since. And she knew she hadn’t imagined their connection, no matter how he’d gone off and left her. There was something elemental between them, something tethering them together and as much as she’d denied it to herself over the years, being with him again changed everything. It was his energy, the glimpses she got of it now and then. It was his sense of honor and his strength. It hurt her to see that strength tested; to see the battle he was waging with himself.

Their connection was as strong as ever. Perhaps even stronger. Too bad she’d already learned that the happily ever after she’d dreamed of as a child didn’t really exist.

“Jonas, please look at me.”

When he turned back around, her heart wept for the broken man before her. Whatever had happened, more than his leg had been wounded. Something that would explain why he didn’t consider himself a hero. Or why he kept distancing himself from her. Why he kept disappearing into himself.

“It’s about time you trusted someone with it. And you know you can trust me.”

“You’ll look at me differently.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed.

“Don’t you know me better than that by now? I know you.” She went forward, touched the hairline just above his ear with a tender hand. “I know you better than anyone. We might not like it, but it’s true. Please let me in.”

“Let’s go outside. I need…I need space. And air.”

She opened the patio doors and they went out, taking chairs on the tiny deck overlooking the yard.

“I don’t know where to start.” He leaned forward in the chair, resting his elbows on his knees, hands clasped.

Shannyn reached over and took his hand in hers. Somehow the simple contact linked them, more than just a handclasp. It was trust. Acceptance. A bond that went far deeper than attraction.

“Why don’t you start with what it was like serving in Special Forces? We’ll take it from there.”

Jonas looked down at their joined hands. His was wide and scarred, hers slender, dainty. They were so different. Shannyn was being more than understanding. How much of that would change when he’d told her the truth? Would she look at him with shock, or derision? Yet, after today and his outburst at the air show, he knew he had to do something. It had been too long, and the past was still stuck in the present. He had to move forward, somehow.

He pulled his hand away and started to get up. “Maybe it would be better if I talked to someone on base,” he prevaricated. It was a weak argument and he knew it. But somehow he had to spare her the details. He didn’t care what she said. When she knew what he’d done, she’d be disappointed at best. Disgusted, more likely.

“You don’t need to protect me, Jonas. I grew a thick skin the day I realized I was pregnant and alone.”

He sat back down. She didn’t understand, not at all. Perhaps she’d always hate him for leaving her behind. And he couldn’t tell her the real reason why he’d left as he had. Maybe she was right. Maybe he did need to tell her what had happened. Once she knew what kind of man he really was, he wouldn’t have to worry about protecting her in the future. Or worry about her getting ideas about them that wouldn’t work. She’d send him packing and they could just move on to working out a visitation schedule.

She was strong. He got that. She had pulled herself up and had done a find job of making a life for herself and Emma. But her lifestyle was far removed from the places he’d been or the things he’d seen. Even now, still dressed in her cute shorts and T-shirt, she was a picture of unspoiled beauty. He was anything but unspoiled. He was more convinced than ever that it wouldn’t work between them.

Flirting had been fun. Kissing had been great. But today’s episode reminded him very clearly why being with Shannyn was impossible, and why he’d insisted on friends. He’d allowed himself to forget. Telling her about Chris would create the distance he needed so he wouldn’t have the power to hurt her again.

“You want to hear about what it was like?” His voice came out stronger than he thought possible. “I loved my job. Sure, it had its downside. In the Middle East it was hot, and dusty, and being a sniper is a lot less glory than you’d imagine. You spend a lot of time waiting. And a lot of time isolated.”

“But you had friends.”

“Yeah.”

He stopped,

surprised at the lump that appeared in his throat. “You probably don’t remember Chris Parker.”

“The one from basic. Sandy blond hair and devilish blue eyes.”

He closed his eyes. She did remember him. And her description put a picture in his mind, one of Chris in full camouflage gear, his head tilted back and laughing. They’d constantly teased each other about nothing at all. It had been the saving grace in a lot of monotony.