Read Online I'll Be Home For Christmas (A Coming Home Novella) by Jessica Scott - Free Book Online Page B

something for you.”
    “Made something? What, do you have arts and crafts hour between patrols?” The laughter was back in her voice but there was an edge. Something sharp and wary. A barrier he didn’t want between them but a barrier he couldn’t scale nonetheless. Not then. Not at all.
    Because his rucksack was just too full of bad news for him to force any sarcasm through.
    “Yeah. I’ll give you two guesses.”
    “I have absolutely no idea.”
    “Really? Think back to the night I left.”
    She sighed and he heard the exasperation in her voice. Shit, he wasn’t usually this inept with her. “Man dress.”
    She laughed. But it wasn’t the same. Probably because dickwad David was in the car. He shouldn’t hate the man but Carponti was tired and feeling slightly peevish. David could have been Mother Theresa’s great nephew twice removed but at that moment, he was taking time from Carponti and his wife.
    He rubbed his thumb between his eyes, needing to tell her all the bad shit. Wishing he could unload some of it and she could tell him something good to replace the bad.
    Maybe he should have told her about Garrison but if she knew he was hurt, she’d worry. And she needed to focus on her job right now, not worry about what her husband was going through downrange.
    So he kept quiet and the silence grew on the line. Finally, his patience snapped. “Look, I know you can’t talk much right now. I’ll try to call again soon?”
    “Yeah. Hon?”
    “Yeah?” He frowned and waited, his breath catching in his throat.
    “I really hope you make it home for Christmas.”
    He swallowed. “Yeah, me too.”
    He disconnected the call before he let his temper get the better of him and walked out of the shelter and back toward his bay. Nicole didn’t deserve him being a douche bag at the moment but he’d really hoped she’d laugh at the man dress costume.
    And when she didn’t… okay, she had but not like she would have if she’d been alone.
    He dropped the little piece of fabric on his bunk as he grabbed his kit and headed toward the mission brief, trying to smother his disappointment. His one skill in life was making his wife laugh and tonight he’d fallen flat on his face. He tried not to let it bother him. He wanted to brush it off.
    He failed. The one thing he’d needed, badly, was to hear her laugh. To replace some of the miserable strain of the goddamned war with something good and pure.
    He barely listened as Iaconelli briefed the plan, his thoughts a thousand miles away, missing his wife.
    * * *
    Nicole stared at her cell phone in the dim lights inside the car and fought the urge to cry. The whole conversation was stunted and… off. Fear curled up inside her heart. Something was wrong. Vic was never serious unless something was wrong.
    She flipped the phone in her hands, unable to put the emotions churning inside her back in the box. God but she didn’t want to cry. Not at work.
    “You okay?” David’s gentle voice broke the silence. He was older than she was by at least fifteen years.
    “Not really,” she said, hoping her voice wouldn’t break.
    “Deployments are tough duty.” He drummed his fingers on the dashboard, the movement creating little shadows in the interior lights. “I’m sorry you’re having a hard time.”
    “I’m worried about my husband,” she whispered. “He’s scaring me.”
    “I deployed on the initial invasion into Iraq,” David said after a while. “Desert Storm, not the Thunder Run. The news made it sound like we sliced through the center of Iraq and woke up in Baghdad. It really wasn’t that easy.” He paused. “It was the first time my wife and I had ever been apart. She wanted me to call home every chance I got.”
    Nicole looked at him. His weathered face was cased in shadows, his dark skin lined with experience. “Did you?”
    He shook his head. “No. I couldn’t. There was stuff I couldn’t talk to her about. There’s still stuff I don’t bring up.