Read Online American Bad Boy: A Military Romance by Sadie Black, Eddie Cleveland - Free Book Online
Authors: Sadie Black, Eddie Cleveland
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like he’s actually gotten some sun. I see the telltale line of orangey-beige badly blended into his thinning hairline and realize he’s either gone out and gotten a spray tan for his big moment under the spotlight, or he’s wearing make-up.
I prefer to believe it’s a spray-tan. Even if his hands are still practically translucent.
“Do you two know each other?” He flickers his eyes over my face quickly and then darts them back over my shoulder to the crowd waiting for him in the hall.
Mack opens his mouth and I stitch it shut with a single look. Nope . This isn’t time for confessions.
“Yeah, we went to high school together.” I quickly answer, heading off whatever is percolating in Mack’s brain.
“Oh, good. Good. Ok. Well, uh, Nurse Brickman will go over your schedule with you. If you have any issues or questions, you can get a hold of me any time.” He spits out the words quickly, as he watches the reporters like a kid who’s desperate for his parents’ attention.
“Ok, thank you. I appreciate the tour, Dr. Galt.” Mack walks across the room and shakes his hand. My boss can barely find the enthusiasm to move his arm up and down a couple times before he abandons the handshake for the closest thing he’s ever had to fans outside the door.
Mack’s military escorts shake his hand and clap him on the shoulder before leaving us alone together.
Suddenly the biggest room in the hospital feels like it’s folding in on itself as the space between us seems to disappear.
Space, time, distance. It’s funny how your heart can so quickly forget the very things that ripped it in half.
I’m not sure if I want to kiss him or slap him, maybe both. Either way, I want an excuse to touch him.
“What?” I ask. I know that cocky smirk, like he just heard a punchline that he hasn’t bothered to share yet.
“Brickman? Seriously?” He covers his smile with the palm of his hand and I realize slapping him would definitely be the better option.
“Yes, Brickman.”
“You got married?”
“I did.”
“To Joel Brickman?”
“That’s the one.”
“Do you have kids?”
“One.”
“You got married and had kids with Joel fucking Brickman? Come on ! I mean, I know when I left town there was slim pickings, but your science partner?” He rolls his eyes.
“At least Joel was there for me. Unlike some people.” I snap at him. “Besides, you shouldn’t speak badly about the dead.” I rub the empty spot on my ring finger, regretting my decision to put my ring in a safety deposit box a couple of months ago. I told myself that it was time to stop wearing it when the anniversary of his death snuck up on me.
“He died?”
“Yeah, that’s what that means.” My words are tinged with frost.
The twinkle extinguishes from Mack’s blue eyes and his smirk settles out into a line. “How? I mean, I’m sorry to hear that. He was so young!” I can see him trying to connect the dots.
“Yeah, he was hit in a head on collision. It was instant.” My voice is flat and quiet, yet the words feel too loud.
“I’m sorry.” Mack steps toward me and I hate to admit how much I want to throw my arms around his neck and nuzzle my head into his chest. How much I want to feel him run his thumb over the back of my head and to hear his voice tell me that it’s all over now. That all the hardship, the heartache, the confusion, they’re all in the past and that he’s here to take away all my pain.
Instead, I step aside and walk over to the window, putting the space between us that I need in order to get my head on straight.
“I’ve been following your story. You know, like on the news and everything,” I confess to the glass, taking a deep breath. I turn around and let myself get lost in his eyes once more. “I’m sorry about the men you lost, Mack. And about what you’ve been through.”
His eyes flicker and for a moment he goes somewhere else. Somewhere far from Colorado. From me.
He shakes his head slowly
I prefer to believe it’s a spray-tan. Even if his hands are still practically translucent.
“Do you two know each other?” He flickers his eyes over my face quickly and then darts them back over my shoulder to the crowd waiting for him in the hall.
Mack opens his mouth and I stitch it shut with a single look. Nope . This isn’t time for confessions.
“Yeah, we went to high school together.” I quickly answer, heading off whatever is percolating in Mack’s brain.
“Oh, good. Good. Ok. Well, uh, Nurse Brickman will go over your schedule with you. If you have any issues or questions, you can get a hold of me any time.” He spits out the words quickly, as he watches the reporters like a kid who’s desperate for his parents’ attention.
“Ok, thank you. I appreciate the tour, Dr. Galt.” Mack walks across the room and shakes his hand. My boss can barely find the enthusiasm to move his arm up and down a couple times before he abandons the handshake for the closest thing he’s ever had to fans outside the door.
Mack’s military escorts shake his hand and clap him on the shoulder before leaving us alone together.
Suddenly the biggest room in the hospital feels like it’s folding in on itself as the space between us seems to disappear.
Space, time, distance. It’s funny how your heart can so quickly forget the very things that ripped it in half.
I’m not sure if I want to kiss him or slap him, maybe both. Either way, I want an excuse to touch him.
“What?” I ask. I know that cocky smirk, like he just heard a punchline that he hasn’t bothered to share yet.
“Brickman? Seriously?” He covers his smile with the palm of his hand and I realize slapping him would definitely be the better option.
“Yes, Brickman.”
“You got married?”
“I did.”
“To Joel Brickman?”
“That’s the one.”
“Do you have kids?”
“One.”
“You got married and had kids with Joel fucking Brickman? Come on ! I mean, I know when I left town there was slim pickings, but your science partner?” He rolls his eyes.
“At least Joel was there for me. Unlike some people.” I snap at him. “Besides, you shouldn’t speak badly about the dead.” I rub the empty spot on my ring finger, regretting my decision to put my ring in a safety deposit box a couple of months ago. I told myself that it was time to stop wearing it when the anniversary of his death snuck up on me.
“He died?”
“Yeah, that’s what that means.” My words are tinged with frost.
The twinkle extinguishes from Mack’s blue eyes and his smirk settles out into a line. “How? I mean, I’m sorry to hear that. He was so young!” I can see him trying to connect the dots.
“Yeah, he was hit in a head on collision. It was instant.” My voice is flat and quiet, yet the words feel too loud.
“I’m sorry.” Mack steps toward me and I hate to admit how much I want to throw my arms around his neck and nuzzle my head into his chest. How much I want to feel him run his thumb over the back of my head and to hear his voice tell me that it’s all over now. That all the hardship, the heartache, the confusion, they’re all in the past and that he’s here to take away all my pain.
Instead, I step aside and walk over to the window, putting the space between us that I need in order to get my head on straight.
“I’ve been following your story. You know, like on the news and everything,” I confess to the glass, taking a deep breath. I turn around and let myself get lost in his eyes once more. “I’m sorry about the men you lost, Mack. And about what you’ve been through.”
His eyes flicker and for a moment he goes somewhere else. Somewhere far from Colorado. From me.
He shakes his head slowly
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