Here And Now (American Valor 2) (9 page)

She waved off his words with a
pfft
as he dug through the tissue paper and pulled out a rolled up T-shirt. Always helpful, she took the bag, giving him both hands to hold it up and read the front.

Always be yourself, unless you can be a unicorn. Then always be a unicorn.

“Dear God.”

“Isn’t it great?” She clapped her hands and laughed. “I think you should wear it to class Monday morning. I’d bet money Brittany would love it.”

“And that’s reason enough for me to never wear it.” He refolded the shirt before his eyes met hers. “Thank you for a great birthday.”

“Well, you only turn thirty once, right?” As she looked back at him with those crystal blue eyes, her smile slipped. She lifted her hand and pressed the back of it to his forehead, then moved her palm to his cheek. “Are you sure you’re okay? You were quiet all through lunch.”

There was a moment between them, like neither were really sure what to do next. He’d never had a female friend before. But just walking away seemed like the wrong decision.

He covered her hand with his, then pressed a kiss to her palm. Before he could second-guess himself, he leaned over and wrapped his arms around her waist, hugging her tight and lifting her feet from the ground at the same time. It felt so good to hold her in his arms, to feel her body pressed against his. And with the way her arms wrapped around his shoulders and she sighed against his neck, he had to believe she felt the same way, too.

But his dad was right. He didn’t have any plans to stay here for the long term. Two, maybe three years at the most. And Rachel wasn’t the kind to leave. So it was best for both of them to let sleeping dogs lie.

As much as he hated to, he put her feet back on the ground and brushed his lips across her forehead.

“Thanks again, Rach. I’ll see you later.”

And before he did something he wouldn’t really regret, he climbed in his Jeep and drove home.

Chapter Nine

I
F HE HAD
things his way, Lucky would already be out on the road, his feet pounding the pavement. He’d run at that six-minute-mile pace he’d become accustomed to during his dozen years in regiment, push his body to the point of exhaustion so he’d be too tired to think about his problems.

But he promised Rachel he’d wait and run with her. Which, to be completely honest, meant it wouldn’t be much of a run at all. More like a trot. And since she was one of the problems he didn’t want to think about, well, that made shit just a whole lot worse.

Since he was stuck waiting, he decided to fire up his laptop, check his email, do a little homework. At the very least he needed to be somewhat productive. In his in-box he found the review from his English Comp critique partner, who happened to be even younger than his chem lab partner. This one was merely eighteen.

He opened the attached document and found bright red text splattering the pages. Punctuation errors. Grammatical errors. Several places were highlighted and marked as
repetitive
or
redundant
. Then there were whole paragraphs struck out and rewritten because, he could only assume, he was such a terrible writer that his paper was incomprehensible. But when he read the new and improved paragraphs, they didn’t make any damn sense.

Then, at the very bottom of the page, was the suggestion he get a tutor since he hadn’t been in school in, like, forever.

Followed by a smiley face, of course.

It took every ounce of self-restraint to not slam the lid shut on his laptop and send it flying across the room.

Luckily for his laptop, a Skype window popped up in the corner, and in an instant, Lucky’s mood changed.

“Gibby! What the hell’s up?”

Definitely a sight for sore eyes, Lucky smiled when Jeff Gibson’s ugly mug filled his screen.

“Just kicking back. Didn’t have shit to do aside from laundry, so I thought I’d call and wish you a happy birthday. A day late, of course.”

“I’m touched, man. Can’t believe you actually keep track of stuff like that.”

“I only remember yours because it’s the same day as my mother’s, asshole.”

Lucky first met Jeff Gibson just minutes after reporting to 1st Batt at Hunter Army Airfield more than a decade earlier, but they didn’t become friends until after they faced off in hand-to-hand combat. Gibby kicked his ass, then offered a hand to help Lucky up from the dirt afterward.

Of course, being close friends more than ten years now, Gibby liked to take it one step further and tell strangers, family, anyone who would listen, really, that it was love at first prod, dating back to the moment Lucky shoved his finger up Gibby’s ass. Which then meant Lucky spent the next ten minutes explaining that rectal exams were an unfortunate but required part of their battlefield medical training.

“Anyway, I thought it was a good excuse to give you a call. See how things are going out in the real world.” Gibby laughed. “Ready to come back?”

Only Lucky didn’t find it all that funny. “Not the best of times to ask.”

That got Gibby’s attention, his expression turning serious as he leaned closer to the webcam. “You can
always
come back.”

“Don’t tempt me.” Anxious to not dig too deep into the topic, Lucky quickly changed the subject. “You guys heading out soon?”

“Yeah, but let’s not talk about that. How’s college life? Banging your way through the sorority houses?”

“Jesus, Gibby. That’s not even funny. If you saw how young these girls are . . .”

Gibby leaned back in his chair, laced his fingers behind his head, and kicked his feet up on the desk. “As long as they’re legal. That’s all that matters.”

Lucky couldn’t help but laugh. “And here I thought you didn’t have any standards at all.”

They spent the next several minutes catching up, talking about Gibby’s recent vacation, his family, his notoriously bad golf game. Then there were a few stories of how Gibby found himself in some crazy-ass situation that only happened to guys like him. By the time they were done, Lucky was caught up on all the guys—Bull, Soup, T-Rod, and the MacGregor brothers.

And he was missing every last one of them.

Rachel knocked a couple of times on the front door and let herself in, a habit that had developed over the past several weeks. As she walked inside, she pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head, her red hair swept up into a ponytail. “Hey, there. Sorry it took me so long, but I had to throw a load of towels in the wash before I left. And then Walter caught me on the way out. He says ‘hello’ by the way.”

Lucky looked back to the screen. “Hey, Gib? I gotta go.”

“Oops,” she whispered, not realizing until he spoke that he was in the middle of a conversation.

“Hold up just a second. I heard a female voice. You’re holding out on me. Who’s there? Did your little lab partner come to visit?” Gibby, being Gibby, laughed at his own joke.

“Just a friend from work.”

“What kind of friend? The kind you bang?”

Overhearing his comment, Rachel raised an eyebrow in question.

“You do realize she can hear you, right?” Lucky asked.

“She must be ugly, then,” Gibby countered.

“I’m not having this discussion with you.”

“Then I’ll have it with her. Put her on.”

“No fucking way, Gibby. Not doing it.”

“Come on, man. Let me have a little fun.”

“I’ll talk to him.” Rachel elbowed him in the shoulder, forcing him to scooch over a bit. She had the biggest smile on her face when she plopped down on the sofa, her face appearing on the laptop. “Hello.”

Immediately, Gibby’s feet dropped from the tabletop and he leaned closer to the monitor. “Well, hello, sweetheart. Jeff Gibson here. Your ex-husband to be.”

“Is that so?”

“Damn straight. What’s your name, beautiful?”

“Rachel.”

“Nice name. And how do you know my boy, Rachel?”

“We work together at the hospital.”

“Are you a nurse?”

“Yes.”

“Nice. If you ever need a little anatomy refresher, I’m your man.”

Rachel tilted her head and with a sweet smile said, “Emphasis on the ‘little,’ I would assume?”

Gibby barked out a laugh. “Hardly, sweetheart. And Lucky can attest to that.”

Lucky threw his hands in the air. “Leave me out of this, Gib.”

“Aw, hell, I can do it myself.” Gibby rose to his feet, brought his lower half into view of the webcam, and began unbuttoning his pants.

“Whoa. Whoa! WHOA! Hold on there, Gibby! Do. Not. Do. That!”

Laughing, Gibby dropped back into his desk chair. “You’re right. I need to save that all for my girl, Rachel, here. Send me a text, sweetheart, and I’ll send you back a picture of something special,” he said, adding a wink.

“I can only imagine.” She turned to Lucky. “I’m gonna fill up my water bottles.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Gibby pleaded until Rachel sat back down on the couch. “Listen here, beautiful. Obviously my boy doesn’t know a good thing when he sees one. I’ll make you a very happy woman. Just say the word and I can have you on a plane to Savannah and us married by the end of the week. Then,” he said with a sweeping motion along the sides of his body, “all of this will be yours.”

“Hmm . . . tempting. I’ll have to think about it.”

“You do that. But don’t wait too long. I’m a real prize!”

She waggled her fingers at the computer as she stood to her feet. “It was lovely chatting with you, Jeff Gibson.”

“Sweet dreams, my love,” Gibby said as she walked away. And when her backside crossed in front of the webcam, Gibby whispered in admiration, “Goddamn that ass.”

Rachel was still laughing as she made her way to the kitchen and Lucky turned the computer toward him.

“I need to go. It was good talking to you. Tell the guys I said hello. And if I don’t talk to you again before you leave, keep your head down over there.”

“Sure thing, Luck. Take it easy.”

The screen went dark. But before he even closed his laptop, his cell phone buzzed with a text message.

Fuck dude she is HOT.

Why aren’t you hitting that?

She put you in the friend zone didn’t she?

I’m coming to Oklahoma when I get back.

Tell her to wait for me

Gonna show you how it’s done.

Lucky laughed and then sent one last reply.

Bye, Gibby
.

Rachel returned as he tossed his phone onto the coffee table. “Your friend is funny.”

“That he is.”

But he didn’t really want to talk about Gibby. Because that would only lead to talking about the life he left behind. And with the way that he was feeling at the moment, it was best he didn’t think about it at all.

He pulled open the front door and held it open for her. “Ready to go?”

She took a deep breath and sighed, then nodded.

Why she was putting herself through this workout was beyond him, because she looked fantastic. But several weeks ago she’d read some Oprah type stuff about making over her whole life, and in addition to reading and meditating and eating healthy, it also included a regular exercise routine. Much to her dislike.

As he pulled the front door shut, she stepped onto the front lawn and began to stretch her hamstrings. And just like good ol’ Gibby, Lucky couldn’t help but admire her ass.

And in that moment, he wondered what he’d done to the universe to be tormented this way.

Thankfully, she turned around to face him as she pulled back one foot to stretch her quad. “Do you miss it?”

“I don’t miss the rules and regulations so much as the adrenaline rush. And of course I miss the guys. Aside from my dad, they’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to family.”

And his family would be deploying to Afghanistan for another rotation within a matter of days.

Instead of being with them, he was writing pointless research papers, taking pointless exams, and working in a pointless job.

“Do you ever think about going back?”

“I try not to.”

Which was the truth, because he was afraid if he thought long and hard about it, he’d find himself packing his bags and heading to Georgia before he knew it.

S
OMETHING WAS OFF.

Rachel wasn’t the type of runner that bothered with running apps or pedometers that monitored her pace or distance. She kept things simple. Lucky led and she followed. But she’d bet money that he was going at a far faster pace than normal.

Usually she ran about four or five steps behind him for several reasons. One, where she would always start out too fast, Lucky kept a perfect pace. Two, she didn’t like running side by side on the two-lane country roads that didn’t have a shoulder. It just wasn’t safe. Three, the view. Watching Lucky James from the back was the best kind of motivation to keep up. But unlike all those other times, he hadn’t looked back to check on her once. It was as if he was in his own little world and didn’t remember her at all.

She did her best to keep up, but it wasn’t long before she had a stitch in her side. Instead of complaining, she tried to suck it up and breathe through the pain, the distance between them growing and growing. Finally, she couldn’t take anymore.

“Can we stop a second?” she asked between stabs of pain. “Take a break a sec?”

Only then did he stop and look at her. “What’s the problem?”

“I didn’t know you were going to try and kill me today.”

She braced her hands on her knees and tried to catch her breath, meanwhile he wasn’t even breathing hard. Instead, he looked like he was just out for a Sunday stroll. She took a sip from her water bottle and returned it to the holster strapped around her waist.

Lucky rested his hands on his hips, not even attempting to hide the irritation on his face.

That was not like him. The only time she’d seen him even close to being in a bad mood was that night in the parking lot where she kinda ran him off the road and caused him to wreck his bicycle. But even then, he didn’t look this grumpy.

“Can we go now?”

He didn’t wait for a response. Just turned around and took off, his strides longer, his pace even faster than before.

“Lucky. Come on! Can’t you take it easy?”

This time he turned around and stalked back toward her. “
You
wanted to come running with
me
. I didn’t invite you to keep me company.” His eyes swept over her, down her legs to her feet, and slowly made their way back to her face. “I sure as hell warned you I don’t do cutesy little trots around town to show off my latest running outfit.”

Oh, hell, no. No way was she going to take the shit he was in the mood to dish out.

“Hey! I like my new outfit.”

He turned his back as he mumbled and swore under his breath, about her, about her clothes.

She caught up with him. Gave him a healthy shove in the back of his shoulder. “Hey!”

This time he spun around and yelled back. “What?”

“You’re being an asshole! Knock it off!” He winced at the accusation, but didn’t argue the point. “You haven’t been yourself since yesterday. Are you okay? Are you having a midlife crisis a little early?”

“I’m fine.”

She laughed at his answer because it sounded like something she would say. And she knew there was no way in hell he was
fine
.

“You just don’t seem like yourself.”

Finally. Finally, that calm, cool, controlled exterior that he had so carefully maintained for the past several weeks began to crack. His biceps flexed and strained as he scrubbed both hands over his face and growled in frustration.

“Maybe it’s because I realized I’m thirty years old and taking writing critiques from an eighteen-year-old kid! That I’m living in my dad’s house! That I’m in a job that’s going nowhere!”

Now, it all made sense. “But this is what you have to do.”

“Is it?”

“If you want to go to medical school it is. Is that what you want to do?”

“Fuck if I know anymore.” He threw his hands helplessly into the air. “I feel like I’m just spinning my wheels here and getting nowhere fast.”