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Authors: Jillian Hart
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look but forward.
Why was he directly in her line of sight? As the minister began to speak and the inevitable rustling filled the sanctuary, she couldn’t help noticing that Pierce wore a black suit. The well-cut jacket complimented his muscular physique. Her pulse gave a little leap, remembering last night, of what he had told her and how close they had been. That closeness scared her.
“Let us pray.”
She bowed her head, welcoming the peace of prayer to her confused heart.
He’d caught sight of Lexie during the service, but with his sister in tow, he had been unable to make a beeline through the crowd after her. By the time he and Giselle had made it outside it was snowing again and she was nowhere in sight.
Right now the stack of blackberry pancakes sat like a lump in his gut. The brunch had been tasty, but the topic of conversation had not been. Giselle had donewhat he expected, making an all-out attempt to talk him out of returning to duty, once and for all. She’d talked about losing Tim, and how much she missed him, and how thinking about Tim made it feel as if she were dying inside. She didn’t want to go through another loss like that. She didn’t want Pierce to come home in a coffin.
He got that. He did. But it hadn’t changed his mind and now Giselle was angry with him for not seeing reason. He’d done all he could, he told her the truth from his heart. It had made no difference.
He parked in a guest spot in front of the dorm. He didn’t want to break the unhappy silence that had settled between them. If he did, would it make things worse? Frustrated, he didn’t know how to fix the situation. He feared that the one person he could talk to, who might understand, was someone he really ought to avoid.
“I’m too mad at you to talk to you now,” Giselle informed him as she shoved open the door. She might feel mad, but she looked sad. Tears stood in her eyes, hovering, as she slid to the ground. “Have a safe flight home.”
“You take care now.” He stopped short of saying anything more. His chest was knotted up good and tight. He didn’t trust his voice as she shut the door, ducked her head and hurried through the snowfall. The temperature had turned cold again while they had been in the restaurant.
His cell phone beeped. A text message? He dug it out, figuring Hawk was probably keeping him updated on the ski conditions, the lucky dog.
“How did it go?” Lexie had written.
He stared at her name, and the knot in his chest yanked tighter. He began typing. “Good. Considering.”
“Uh oh. How’s Giselle?” her message asked.
“Mad @ me.” And then some, but maybe it was smarter to keep his feelings out of it right along with Giselle’s disappointment. No doubt Lexie would find out about it soon, whenever his sister chose to share it with her.
At least Lexie understands, an unwanted thought reminded him. It should have comforted him, but it only made his trapped, unnamed feelings begin to ache.
“Give her time,” Lexie answered.
He stared at her words on his little screen, bright in the dark, stormy day. He was a man trained to look at a situation and make the right decision. The back of his neck tingled, like it did on the job when he’d missed something vital and was about to make a mistake. His thumbs were on the keys, ready to ask if she could meet him to talk.
Is that what he really wanted? To talk with her? He set the phone on the seat, staring at her words on the screen. Lexie’s advice was meant as nothing more than a friend. They both knew it. But something had changed for him. Something he wanted to push aside and ignore, but that was never smart. That was no good solution to a problem.
He had to examine the tangled knot in his chest, hurting like a set of bruised ribs. What did he really want?
To see her again. The answer came quickly and quietly, as if spooling up from his soul. He could deal with his family. He would probably go back to active duty with
Why was he directly in her line of sight? As the minister began to speak and the inevitable rustling filled the sanctuary, she couldn’t help noticing that Pierce wore a black suit. The well-cut jacket complimented his muscular physique. Her pulse gave a little leap, remembering last night, of what he had told her and how close they had been. That closeness scared her.
“Let us pray.”
She bowed her head, welcoming the peace of prayer to her confused heart.
He’d caught sight of Lexie during the service, but with his sister in tow, he had been unable to make a beeline through the crowd after her. By the time he and Giselle had made it outside it was snowing again and she was nowhere in sight.
Right now the stack of blackberry pancakes sat like a lump in his gut. The brunch had been tasty, but the topic of conversation had not been. Giselle had donewhat he expected, making an all-out attempt to talk him out of returning to duty, once and for all. She’d talked about losing Tim, and how much she missed him, and how thinking about Tim made it feel as if she were dying inside. She didn’t want to go through another loss like that. She didn’t want Pierce to come home in a coffin.
He got that. He did. But it hadn’t changed his mind and now Giselle was angry with him for not seeing reason. He’d done all he could, he told her the truth from his heart. It had made no difference.
He parked in a guest spot in front of the dorm. He didn’t want to break the unhappy silence that had settled between them. If he did, would it make things worse? Frustrated, he didn’t know how to fix the situation. He feared that the one person he could talk to, who might understand, was someone he really ought to avoid.
“I’m too mad at you to talk to you now,” Giselle informed him as she shoved open the door. She might feel mad, but she looked sad. Tears stood in her eyes, hovering, as she slid to the ground. “Have a safe flight home.”
“You take care now.” He stopped short of saying anything more. His chest was knotted up good and tight. He didn’t trust his voice as she shut the door, ducked her head and hurried through the snowfall. The temperature had turned cold again while they had been in the restaurant.
His cell phone beeped. A text message? He dug it out, figuring Hawk was probably keeping him updated on the ski conditions, the lucky dog.
“How did it go?” Lexie had written.
He stared at her name, and the knot in his chest yanked tighter. He began typing. “Good. Considering.”
“Uh oh. How’s Giselle?” her message asked.
“Mad @ me.” And then some, but maybe it was smarter to keep his feelings out of it right along with Giselle’s disappointment. No doubt Lexie would find out about it soon, whenever his sister chose to share it with her.
At least Lexie understands, an unwanted thought reminded him. It should have comforted him, but it only made his trapped, unnamed feelings begin to ache.
“Give her time,” Lexie answered.
He stared at her words on his little screen, bright in the dark, stormy day. He was a man trained to look at a situation and make the right decision. The back of his neck tingled, like it did on the job when he’d missed something vital and was about to make a mistake. His thumbs were on the keys, ready to ask if she could meet him to talk.
Is that what he really wanted? To talk with her? He set the phone on the seat, staring at her words on the screen. Lexie’s advice was meant as nothing more than a friend. They both knew it. But something had changed for him. Something he wanted to push aside and ignore, but that was never smart. That was no good solution to a problem.
He had to examine the tangled knot in his chest, hurting like a set of bruised ribs. What did he really want?
To see her again. The answer came quickly and quietly, as if spooling up from his soul. He could deal with his family. He would probably go back to active duty with
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