He laughed, wrapping his arms around her, drawing her back against his front. But even with the soft contours of her curves pressed against him, there was a gap he could not close. She was his, dammit. The first woman who’d forced him to open his eyes to the possibility of more.
But the words “temporary” and “fake” still hung over their heads, provided a buffer he didn’t want or need. He hoped she’d felt the same because tomorrow he planned to lock those words in the past.
“Chad?” she whispered.
“Yeah?”
“Thank you—”
“You don’t need to thank me, Lena. I was right there with you.” He hugged her tight.
“Being with you,” she said. “I feel one step closer to normal. I feel like maybe I can face tomorrow’s ceremony.”
“You can.” He kissed her neck, debating whether to tell her about his conversation with the sergeant in charge of the event. But now when she was drifting off to sleep wasn’t the time. And part of him wanted to surprise her.
“I know you can,” he added.
And after the vice president handed her the Silver Star, after they put the ceremony behind them, they’d have eight hours in the car to find new words to define their relationship.
Chapter 18
LENA FOLDED HER hands in her lap, staring straight ahead while Chad handed over their IDs and the vehicle registration. Wearing her dress uniform for the first time in more months than she wished to count, with her hair pulled into a tight bun, she felt an eerie calm.
“Have you been here before?” Chad asked as he pulled away from the checkpoint.
“No. I was stationed in Virginia.” She glanced at the window as they drove past a cluster of buildings. Men and women, some in uniform and others in civilian clothes, walked along the paved pathways. “But it feels familiar.”
There were days when she still missed the precision of military life. The need to survey her surroundings haunted her in Oregon, but while deployed, while doing her job, it had been a necessary part of life.
“Being here, it does make me wonder if I should go back,” she said.
“And give up normal?” Chad shook his head. “Don’t tell me you were lying last night when you said I’d brought you one step closer.”
“I was telling the truth, Chad. What you’ve done for me—”
“Give yourself some credit, beautiful. It takes two to do what we did last night.”
“Too bad orgasms aren’t the cure-all to PTSD.”
Chad laughed, steering them away from the main buildings. “Yeah, I think the VA might be bombarded with claims.”
“Chad.” She glanced down at the map of the base with the red arrow pointing to the locale of the ceremony. “I think you’re going the wrong way.”
“Nope, I spoke with the sergeant in charge last night. They changed the location,” he said, pulling up in front of a one-story office building. “There’s a conference room inside that will work for today.”
“They moved the ceremony from an auditorium to a conference room? Did the vice president cancel?”
“No.” Cutting the engine, he faced her. “But I told them you would unless it was friends and family only. No press, no surprises. And if the vice president gets too close, have Hero give him a shove. This is your day, Lena.”
She drew a shaky breath, and her eyes filled with unshed tears.
“Nope, no crying.” He opened his door and hopped down. “I pissed off a lot of people last night, especially the woman who’d planned this thing. So try to look happy about the change.”
He held the door as she stepped down. “Chad Summers, you’re full of surprises. I never would have guessed you’d be the one to ride in and save the day.”
He raised one eyebrow. “Confusing me with your dog again? I’m not your hero, Lena. I’m your friend. And yeah, I care a helluva lot about you. But that’s something we can talk about later. Right now, I need to give you this.”
He held out a folded piece of paper. Plucking it from his fingers, she started to open it.