The Soldier's Forever Family
Adam pushed a weary hand through his hair. “Yeah, well, I didn’t see my father enough to know what I felt about him. He was just some aging hippie who drifted through town to say hello and bum a few bucks to hold him over until his next visit.”
“Not cool,” Walt said. “So, you’re going to miss out on your son’s life because your old man was a lousy father? How does that make sense?”
The barb hit home with an accuracy that made Adam wince. “That’s not—I just don’t want to mess up the kid’s life.”
“So don’t. Be a better father than yours was.”
Yeah. As if it were that easy. “They’re moving across the country. Even if I knew how to be a father, how am I supposed to do it from three thousand miles away? I could follow them, but what am I supposed to do in Seattle? Even if I could find a job and an apartment I could afford, what would I have to offer a kid like Simon?”
“You’re selling yourself short, pal. And I couldn’t help noticing you didn’t mention Joanna.”
Adam’s insides ch
urned at the mention of her name. He fought the images that flashed through his mind. He’d spent a lot of time today wondering who unnerved him more—the innocent child or his all-too-knowing mother.
“I’ve seen you with her, Adam. She’s not just someone you casually hooked up with. You have feelings for her. It’s possible you always have, even if you didn’t realize it until she came back into your life.”
Adam made a point of scrubbing a drop of liquid off the bar top with one finger.
Reading too much into that silence, Walt murmured, “So you’re scared of her, too?”
“I’m not scared of Joanna,” Adam snapped. Lied. “I just don’t want to mess up her life, either.”
“And you’re so sure you would.”
His hand clenched around his glass. “Let’s just say I learn from my mistakes. Look what happened last time I got involved with her.”
Walt’s grunt expressed a mixture of disapproval and sympathy. “You don’t have to follow them to Seattle, if that’s not what you want. You’ve got a good opportunity here in South Carolina. You’re damned good at your job, and Trevor’s ready to reward you for that. All you have to do is say yes.”
All he had to do. That made it all sound so damned easy.
Setting down the still half-full glass of beer, Walt pulled money out of his pocket and dropped it on the bar. “Your drink’s on me. And now I have to go. Watching you brood has made me think there’s someone I might want to get to know better.”
“Maddie?”
Walt nodded with a crooked grin. “It might all end in flames, but I won’t know unless I try.”
“And if it ends in regret? Heartache?”
Walt clapped his right hand on Adam’s back. “Then maybe I’ll be the one who ends up brooding in a dark bar. It’s all part of living, my friend. Not the best part, but it is what it is.”
“I hate that saying,” Adam grumbled.
Laughing softly, Walt ambled away, leaving Adam to stew. Maybe—just maybe—Walt had been right about a few things.
It might all end in flames, but I won’t know unless I try.
Adam had never doubted that Walt was a courageous, resilient man. A hero—a word Adam had certainly never applied to himself. But maybe—just maybe—it was time he tried to find some of that fortitude for his own sake. After all, he’d never know if he could do it unless he tried.
Of course, his wasn’t the only happiness he’d be risking this time. And he realized that for once, his greatest fear wasn’t for himself—but for Simon and Joanna, both of whom had somehow become entirely too important to him for his peace of mind.
* * *
IT WAS LATE when Walt knocked on Maddie’s door, but he’d called first, so she was expecting him. After flipping through the clothes she’d hastily packed for this impromptu vacation, she’d chosen a body-hugging summer dress in a deep royal blue she knew was flattering. She’d left her sparkly-nailed feet bare and her hair tousled rather than sleek, applying only enough makeup to highlight her eyes and adding a clear gloss to her lips. Sexy but not trying too hard, she decided as she gave herself a once-over in the mirror before answering the door.
He smiled approvingly when she let him into the sitting room of her small suite. “You look very nice.”
“Thank you.” He looked damned good himself, in a pale blue-and-white-striped cotton shirt with gray chinos. The shirt was long-sleeved, like the others she’d seen him wear, but turned back to forearm-length, revealing a bit more of the skin-toned prosthetic.