Arms of Promise (4 page)

“You okay? What’s going on?” His gaze rebounded off her to the street corner.

“Yeah.” She cast a backward glance. “Someone was . . .” Aside from a few pieces of loose trash, the sidewalk couldn’t have been emptier. A mix of relief and embarrassment settled over her shoulders. Wow, now she had to add paranoid to her list of crazy responses since running into Evan last night.

He turned her around. “Was what?”

“Nothing.” Anna inched her bag up her arm and evaded the intuitive stare she knew was tearing her lie apart right now.

“It’s 0700. What are you doing out this early?”

“I needed to go to the studio.”
To dance out frustrations about you
. She let her hair fall in her face to shield her warm cheeks.

Like it mattered. When he dipped his head low enough for his intense eyes to roam hers, the knot in her stomach took a whole different spin. So much for being laser focused. Why did he have to be so . . . ? Her gaze sloped from his defined arms to his gear. “Wait a sec. Look who’s talking. What are you doing here?”

Evan lowered a duffel bag to the concrete. “Just leaving the gym.”

She glanced up at the building. Of course he had to work out at a gym along her everyday commute. Perfect.

The guy beside him whacked his bicep, and Evan almost shoved him off the curb. Laughing, he butted his way forward. “Darius Murphy.” He swept her hand in his and kissed it. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Easy, Casanova,” Evan said in a guarded whisper behind him.

Their banter relaxed her tense muscles. Despite his playful charm, something in the guy’s stature gave her the impression he’d be the kind of friend you’d want to watch your back.

She returned his warm smile. “Anna Madison. Pleasure’s mine. Not too often you meet chivalry on the streets. You must be one of Evan’s Ranger comrades.”

He puffed out his shirt. “Hear that? I don’t need no gold and black tab on my uniform. I got pure bonafide Ranger swag going on, right here, dawg.”

Evan looked like he was restraining an eye roll, but he winked at her instead. “Thanks for encouraging him.”

One wink shouldn’t launch an entire fleet of wings flapping in her stomach. “I should, um . . .” Learn how to form a coherent sentence around him. “Probably . . .” Stop talking. Jeez, what was her problem?

He stared at the pavement with the slightest grin hitching up his cheek. “Where you headed?”

Anywhere but here. “I’m gonna swing by Sip and Savor Chicago.”

“Mind if I join you?” His crippling gaze met hers, and that was it. Brain-mouth coordination, over.

She shook her head, unable to look away from him.

Darius clasped Evan’s hand before climbing into a Jeep at the curb. “Tomorrow, bro.”

“Later.” Evan gave him a chin flick. Smiling at her, he motioned toward his car.

Anna peeked behind her. No way she was returning the way she’d come. Then again, facing a stalker—real or imagined—might be easier than standing three inches away from the man she wished was the one pursuing her.

Chapter Four

Infiltrate

Evan pressed the seat warmer button as soon as he started the car.

Anna cocked a brow. “The café’s only, like, two minutes away.”

“That’s all it takes.” One of his favorite features about his Accord.

“You didn’t turn into one of those testosterone-driven guys who have car separation anxiety, did you?”

Laughing, he shifted into second gear. “Something like that.”

“Wow, Sarge. If you start pec bouncing next, I might have to leave.”

He cracked up. She was going to crush his willpower before this was over with. He checked his side mirror, wondering how she snuck into his blind spot every time. “I’ll try to hold back for you.”

“I appreciate that.” The afterglow of her impish smile rivaled the seat warmer.

Evan knocked the heat down and willed his mind to stay on track.

Parked beside the curb in front of the three-store strip, he cast a glance around the neighboring brick apartments and abandoned basketball court before unlocking the doors. The city had a Dunkin Donuts and Starbucks on every corner, yet Anna insisted on traipsing off the beaten path by herself.

Evan refrained from commenting. He should be thankful she acted like she hadn’t noticed anyone tailing her. It made his task of pretending this was just a random encounter with a friend a lot easier. He’d play along to curb any suspicions but not at the expense of lowering his guard.

“You still drink coffee?” She opened her door.

“Are you kidding?”

“What? That’s not a valid question?” Her innocent expression made it even funnier.

“Not even in the near vicinity of valid.”

“Then you, my friend, are in the right place.” Flaunting a grin, she ambled outside and up to the windowed door.

With Anna, any place felt like the right one.

“
Don’t be stupid, boy. You’ll never belong in that girl’s life
.” His dad’s words hovered right beneath the surface. Always ready to remind Evan of his place the second he edged past it.

But the truth kept him focused. He scanned the street on his way to the door.

“Ready to be in heaven?” She peered back at him with green eyes capable of causing any guy within a hundred yards to turn his head. Her unassuming beauty made her more of a target than she knew.

Burying the thought before it showed on his face, he held the door for her. Inside, the purple walls, abstract paintings, and black and yellow chairs sang Anna’s artsy love language. No wonder she preferred to come here instead of a chain.

A plastic green tag sticking out on her jeans’ waistband caught Evan’s eye as she unzipped her coat.

She followed his line of sight, yanked down her sweater, and laughed. “You didn’t see that.” Lips tight, she scampered toward the counter.

“You don’t seriously think I’m gonna let that slide, do you?” Not with such an incriminating expression.

She dished out a
whatever
face at him. “I got these jeans at the Goodwill the other day . . . and
might’ve
forgotten to cut the tag off after I washed them.”

“The Goodwill.” He blinked at her. “You’re shopping at a thrift store when your dad can buy you anything you want.”

“Not independence.”

Evan crossed his arms.

She matched his scowl and raised a finger. “Don’t start.” Banishing the conversation, she skipped the rest of the way to the counter. “Can I have a Bull Frog Mocha? With extra whip, please?” After tucking her hair behind her ear, she fished through her purse for a fabric wallet.

Like that was happening. Evan withdrew his billfold and set it on the counter. The overhead menu stared back at him with dozens of choices. She was right. His mouth watered just from reading the descriptions.

“I’ll take a Caramel Royale Latte.” He paid for their orders, despite her resistance, and looked over to an impossibly wide grin. “What?”

“Nothing.” She gave a wry shrug. “I just figured now that you’re a big bad Ranger, you would’ve graduated from frou-frou drinks to black coffee.” Her infectious laugh trailed the dig.

Evan pocketed his wallet, a grin harder to hide. “Old habits die hard.”

The slightest crease crinkled her forehead.

He moved to the end of the counter and out of danger territory before she could press the subject. She didn’t need to know he’d kept drinking hot chocolates and lattes all these years because they reminded him of time they’d spent together.

Anna either missed it or let it go. Instead, she leaned her shoulder against his. “So, Casanova, huh?”

“Don’t let him fool you. Murphy talks a good game, but when it comes down to it, he’s a one-woman kind of guy.”

“I wouldn’t expect any less from a friend of yours. Is he in your platoon or battalion or whatever it is you guys call it?” She slurped a mouthful of whipped cream off the top of her drink, looking way too attractive.

Heaven help him.

Releasing a gruff breath, Evan strode to the bar chairs along the windows. Anna sat next to him with an earnest expression, as though genuinely clueless of the effect she had on him.

He swirled a stirrer in his cup. This wasn’t what he wanted to talk about, either, but he’d take the subject change. “Murphy and I met in Basic. We went through training together all the way through RIP.”

She slid him a questioning stare.

“Ranger Indoctrination Program,” he clarified. “Murphy’s a good soldier. Even recycled when he failed the first time. But Ranger School will break the best of them.”

An older man walking an even older looking mutt passed by the window. Beyond him, on the opposite corner, a guy smoking a cigarette leaned against the bumper of an SUV with a stare trained on the café.

Evan’s senses jumped to alert. A single Suburban. No other tails. Two men—muscle for hire. The one behind the wheel held status but not final authority.

“What’s the school like?”

Anna’s innocent voice cut through his focus. He inhaled and risked looking back at her but couldn’t find the right words.

“Oh.” A torn expression streaked her face. “It’s classified, isn’t it?”

She had no idea how much it killed him to keep things from her. “There’s a reason the sign at the camp says
Not for the Weak or Fainthearted
.” He set a hand over hers without thinking and rubbed her fingers with the back of his thumb. “Even if it didn’t violate code to tell you, you wouldn’t want to know.”

The concern welling up in her tender eyes confirmed his need to shield her from his life and the risks around her every day.

A car door closed. Evan looked up in time to see the Suburban backing up the street and out of view. Had he been made?

Anna slipped her hand out from under his and dropped it to her lap, her voice even lower. “This can’t be your first leave in five years. Why haven’t you come home before now?”

The painful questions obviously weren’t about to end. Leaving the SUV in the background for now, Evan lined up the logo on the cardboard sleeve with the one on his cup and wrestled over what he could tell her. “My mom’s in the hospital.”

“What happened?”

“She had her right lung removed.”

Anna covered her chest. “I just saw her maybe six months ago at her pottery shop. She didn’t say anything.”

“We only found out about a month ago. She went to the doctor’s thinking she had bronchitis.” She didn’t deserve to face anything worse. Evan shoved the cup away from him. He should’ve gotten Mom out of that smoke-infested apartment and away from his dad’s verbal abuse years ago. If Evan had been stronger, he could’ve spared her the consequences of all those years of pain.

Gentle fingers slid over his. “I’m so sorry.” Anna lowered her head to meet his eyes. “Your mom’s one of the bravest women I know. She’ll beat this.”

Her assurance tightened the knot in his chest. Anna had always been quick to credit other people’s strength yet never recognized her own. He couldn’t pull away.

Returning her hands to her cup, she faced forward. He cleared his throat and chugged half his coffee. They needed something else to talk about. Fast.

“How was the studio this morning?”

Her grunt said enough. “I have less than a week to polish my audition piece.”

“I’m sure it’s already perfect.”

She sat back and huffed.

O-kay. Wrong word choice?

“Perfect’s not good enough. Every dancer who hits that floor will have perfect technique. I have to find a way to stand out. I’m not competing against skill. I’m competing against passion.”

“Anna, your entire life exudes passion for art. You have nothing to worry about.”

Staring at the ceiling, she tugged her scarf away from her neck. “You don’t understand. If I can’t clear my head and immerse myself in this routine, I’m not gonna make it. And the possibility of what that means . . .” She closed her eyes, as if shutting out the thought.

“What’s holding you back? You thinking about your dad’s case?”

She hurled a blank stare at him, let out a strange laugh, and pushed up from the table. “Guys are so blind.”

Evan scurried up from his seat, but she beat him to the door. Outside, he scoured the sidewalks, cars, and buildings while jogging to catch up. “Where are you going?”

“To the rec center.”

The girl’s stubbornness never ended. “Let me drive you.”

Anna stopped beside a black gate leading to a park that could’ve passed for a cemetery. The tension radiating off her kept him a foot away.

“You, Evan.” She spun around, wavy hair a beautiful mess in the wind. “You’re the reason I can’t think straight.”

Her words clawed into his gut. She had every reason not to want him around. He’d fully expected it. But no amount of prepping could neutralize the pain of seeing it on her face.

Watery eyes approached him. “Five years. You left and haven’t been back in five years. No phone calls. No visits.” Her gaze plummeted to the ground, his heart right behind it. “Can you at least tell me why?”

The hurt in her voice wound around his own so tightly, no sound came out.

She looked up long enough to intersect his gaze. “Something else you have to keep from me. I get it.” She turned, but he caught her hand.

“Bells, please. I’m sorry. For more than you know.” More than he could ever tell her. “I left because I had to.” His heart took over as he brushed back the strands of hair billowing across her cheeks. “That doesn’t mean I went a day without thinking of you.”

Her lashes swept up, and an ache to hold her seized every part of him. He urged his eyes to stay even, his pulse to slow.

An unreadable expression propelled her into his arms. “I’m sorry, I just . . . I’ve missed you so much. Without you here, without knowing what was going on . . .” Anna squeezed him tighter. “You’re my best friend.”

He didn’t understand her response. Didn’t deserve it. But he couldn’t bring himself to step away. He curled his arms around her back and nestled his cheek to her hair. Her softness decimated his discipline of holding memories and desires at bay. The closer she pressed in, the harder the waves hit and intensified the yearning to tell her everything.

Swallowing, Evan slid his hand down her hair and loosened his hold. He’d led ambushes in Iraq, assisted Special Forces in Afghanistan, and conducted dozens of raids against Islamic terrorists. Yet, the most dangerous place he’d ever been in was right here in Anna’s arms.

Later, Anna would regret allowing herself to sink into the warmth and safety of Evan’s embrace. She knew better. Had been coaching herself to act like running into him again hadn’t even happened. But right now, she didn’t care.

The honest feelings Evan ignited in her when they were kids hadn’t waned, but this soldier-version of him did things she’d never felt before. Visceral things she shouldn’t be letting him see.

Ignoring the warning, she drew tighter and breathed in lingering hints left from his soap and shampoo. Evan had never been one to wear cologne. At least that much hadn’t changed.