Know Me Well (Wishful 3)

He took a long swallow of his beer, surprised to find his throat dry. “Everybody thought I’d work for Dad at the garage. I liked the work, and I was good at it. But the idea of staying here, locked into that life, felt like watching a cage door close. My whole life, up to that point, felt like it had been lived for somebody else. And I just—”

“Needed out?” There was no censure in her eyes, and he realized she got it.

“Yeah. Everybody I cared about was safe, so for the first time in my life, I was free to make a decision just for me. Everything that made me not quite fit in this world made me a born fighter. So I enlisted and traded responsibility for one family for the responsibility of another, one where that mission-oriented focus is an asset and there’s always somebody else to look out for.”

“You miss it.”

“Yes and no.” He grimaced. “I’m not at all sure I’m cut out to be a civilian.”

“Is it the structure you miss? The people?”

Most folks would’ve asked if he missed the action. But, as usual, Riley had a way of jumping past the obvious.

“Some of both. In some ways, life in the military is a lot more black and white than the everyday. There are always orders, hierarchy. And very clear lines that you don’t cross.”

His gaze was drawn to the thumb she stroked along the stem of her wineglass, and he wondered how it would feel along his skin.

Focus, Montgomery.

“Are the lines so blurry in civilian life?”

He thought of how much he wanted to touch her, how much he wanted her to be something other than his sister’s best friend, and took a pull on his beer. “On some things, yes. Part of it’s just that they gave me a place. I knew where I fit there.” He sure as hell didn’t know who he was if not a Marine.

“And you haven’t quite figured out where you fit now that you’re back. There’s not a specific place outlined and waiting.”

Liam lifted his beer. “Got it in one.”

“So build your own place.”

“You say that like it’s easy.”

“Easy isn’t the right word for it. I’ve worked my ass off to build mine. But it’s so worth it. To figure out that thing that you want and build your world around it.”

He was having a hard time thinking about what he wanted beyond getting her out of that dress. What kind of underpinnings went with an outfit like that? Lace? Silk?

“Do you think you’d be happier if you went back?”

Liam jerked his attention back to the conversation and hoped like hell he hadn’t been staring at her breasts. “If you’d asked me that a few months ago, I’d have said yes. Now, I don’t know. When I enlisted, I was proud of what I was doing, felt sure that I was meant to serve my country. But this last year…I don’t know what the hell I was fighting for that was so important, it was worth abandoning my family.”

The arrival of their food interrupted the baring of his soul, and Liam was grateful, hoping to turn the conversation. But once their server had departed again, Riley reached out for his hand, expression fierce.

“You didn’t abandon your family, Liam. If you’d never left, if you’d stayed and followed in Uncle John’s footsteps at the garage, if you’d been there that day, you couldn’t have done anything to change what happened. You know that, don’t you?”

Of course, she’d know that’d been kicking around in his head. Objectively, he knew she was right. According to the doctors, the aneurysm had killed his father all but instantly. But it didn’t mitigate the guilt. He’d walked away from the place he’d been given and his father was dead.

Liam turned his hand up, curled his fingers around hers. “Knowing that in my head and knowing it in my heart are two very different things. Either way, I’ve had enough of war. That being the case…”

He reached into his shirt and pulled out the engraved Celtic shield knot medallion.

Riley inhaled an unsteady breath. “I wasn’t sure if you ever found it.”

“You said your dad always wore it. Except the one time he didn’t.”

“It was the only thing I had left of him,” she said softly. “Mom got rid of almost everything else over the years.”

And she’d given it to him to keep him safe. “I’ve never taken it off.” He did so now, slipping the cord over his head and folding the medallion into her hand. “I figure, it’s time you have this back.”

She rubbed her thumb over the surface of the knot before lifting her eyes back to his. “It’s probably nothing but superstition, but thank you for wearing it.”