Once and For All: An American Valor Novel (9 page)

And having ended her phone call, Marie appeared to have caught the entire exchange.

“So he sees you for the first time in almost ten years and proposes? That’s very romantic.”

“More practical than romantic. He married me so I wouldn’t have to pay for my own health insurance.”

“So you’re not—”

“Having sex?” Bree shook her head then took another drink of wine.

“Interesting.” Marie settled onto a bar stool next to her. “This has the makings of a Lifetime movie of the week.”

“He married me out of pity. Because I lost my job. Because of the cancer.”

“I take that back,” she said, her glossy curls bouncing as she shook her head. “This sounds more Nicholas Sparks than Lifetime. Of course, that would mean one of you would die at the end and we don’t want that. So on second thought, scratch Nicholas Sparks. Stick with Lifetime. I wonder who they would get to play me.”

“Wait. What?” The woman talked a mile a minute and Bree’s wine-soaked brain was slow to catch up. “You’re making too much of it. This is his way of helping me out.”

“For how long, then? A month? A year?”

“I don’t know. The goal is for me to find a job, save some money so I can stand on my own two feet, and then we’ll get divorced.”

“Or maybe not,” she said with a wink.

“No, really. That’s the plan.”

“Oh, honey.” This time Marie placed her hand on Bree’s forearm. “I don’t doubt that’s the plan. But if there’s one thing I learned years ago, not all things in life go according to plan.”

Chapter Ten

D
AN
NY TOOK ANOTHER
long pull from his beer and tried not to worry about leaving Bree alone with Marie. Not that Bree couldn’t handle herself. But Marie could be a real pit bull if and when the mood struck. In his mind, this evening could only end one of two ways: either they’d be at each other’s throats or they’d become thick as thieves. Both of which were equally frightening prospects.

Ben manned the grill, taking account of hot spots and rearranging his steaks accordingly. His perfectionist side showed when he placed them at a forty-five degree angle to get that crosshatch pattern. If it wasn’t for the fact the man knew his steak, Danny would give him hell for watching too much Food Network.

“Pretty quiet over there.” Ben lowered the lid and dropped into a nearby deck chair.

“Just wondering if those steaks are kosher.”

“Highly doubtful. It’s not as if all those MREs I’ve eaten over the years were kosher, either.”

“Isn’t that against your religion, being Jewish and all?”

“Emphasis on the
ish
part.” Ben chuckled and took another drink from his beer. “Isn’t it Lent? You Catholics aren’t supposed to be eating meat, either.”

“Fridays, man. We don’t eat meat on Fridays.”

“Right. Next time I’ll be sure to invite you for dinner on a Friday. Spaghetti is easier on my wallet.”

Danny couldn’t help himself from checking to see how things were going inside. So far, so good, it would seem. He returned his attention to his beer, picking at the label until the entire thing pulled free.

“So.” After a prolonged silence, Danny looked up and realized that was exactly what Ben had been waiting for. “Are we going to talk about the elephant in the room?”

Danny shook his head. “Bree’s hardly an elephant.”

“That’s true.”

And then Ben went silent like a goddamn therapist. Just sat there, patiently waiting for him to start talking. He never did this shit in their early years, but as he and Marie had more kids and those kids grew older, it became his go-to tactic. One he’d perfected. Now he liked to sit in front of them, arms crossed, not saying a word. Just making those kids squirm until the guilt got to them and they spilled their guts.

“I know what you’re doing. You can knock it off with the PSYOP mindfuck bullshit any day now.” Ben smiled in response, but still said nothing. Asshole. So Danny caved. “Go ahead. Let’s hear it. I’m sure you have a million questions.”

Ben laughed at that. “Marie is the one with a million questions. I, on the other hand, only have one.”

“And that would be?”

Without any hint of sarcasm he asked, “Do you love her?”

A nervous laugh escaped him. “That certainly isn’t the question I expected you to ask.”

“You thought I was going to ask if she’s pregnant.”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“You know how I feel about that.” Ben shifted forward in his chair, his elbows resting on his knees. “That’s a terrible reason to get married. And just because Marie was pregnant when we married, doesn’t mean that’s why I proposed. We might have married sooner than we planned, but from the day I met her I knew she was the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.”

Danny had heard him say the same thing before. A story he shared through the years with plenty of guys who knocked up gate bunnies. Never once in all those times had Ben’s advice been directed at him.

Although he and Michael were close, the bond Danny had with Ben was far different. They suffered through RIP then Ranger school together. Had been deployed three times to Iraq and another six to Afghanistan together. They’d mourned friends killed in war and celebrated life together. But never once, in all the years they’d been friends, closer than brothers, really, had they ever spoken of love.

“It’s pretty simple, Danny. Either you love her or you don’t.”

“It’s not as simple as you’re making it out to be. She was in a bit of a jam. I’m helping her out.”

“So you don’t love her?”

There wasn’t an easy answer to that. Of course he loved her. He’d always loved her. Probably would always love her. But the woman he was married to? He didn’t know her. And she didn’t know him. Neither of them was remotely close to being the same person they once were.

“Just because I care about her and want to help her—”

“And marry her,” Ben added.

“And marry her, doesn’t mean I’m
in
love with her now.”

From where he stood on the back porch, he could see Bree and Marie just as he’d left them. Then Marie huddled close and a roar of laughter came from the two of them so loud it startled both him and Ben. Bree turned to look outside, her eyes meeting his. She lifted a hand in a slight wave and smiled. He felt himself smiling back at her, saluting her with the beer in his hand.

And of course when he looked back at Ben he had that same know-it-all smirk on his face as before.

Danny gestured toward the house. “Sounds like the two of them are hitting it off.”

“Yep.” Ben nodded. “You do realize absolutely nothing good can come from that?”

Danny laughed. “Tell me something I don’t already know.”

T
HE FOUR OF
them talked well into the evening, long after the kids had been tucked into their beds. All the times before when he’d been invited over as a single guy, prolonged exposure to such domestic bliss would have made him itch. Would have chased him out the door not long after dinner was over so he could meet up with some of the guys or rendezvous with the flavor of the week. Not this time.

The stories Ben and Marie told Bree were ones he knew by heart, but he didn’t mind hearing them all again. Instead, he liked watching Bree, how she reacted to their stories, the punchlines. He liked seeing her in their home, smiling and laughing, a world away from what her life was only a few days ago. He stretched his arm across the back of the couch, his palm resting on her shoulder. He expected her to knock his hand away when she turned to face him. Instead, she smiled and shifted a little closer before returning her attention to the conversation.

Sitting this close he caught the scent of her perfume or bodywash or whatever it was she used. He’d never smelled anything like it. Only two days they’d been married and already his brain associated the scent with her. He liked how it greeted him whenever he walked in the front door of his apartment, a pleasant reminder he no longer lived alone.

After checking on the baby for a second time, Marie returned downstairs, this time dropping into Ben’s lap, her legs casually draped over the arm of his leather chair as she reclined against her husband’s chest.

“So give me an idea of when we can expect news of another kid on the way? I want to get in on the early betting.” Danny leaned closer to loudly whisper in Bree’s ear. “Hannah is a welcome-home baby.”

“That was all Marie’s fault,” Ben quickly added.

“My fault?” She shoved her husband’s chest. “Oh, I think not. It’s not as if you weren’t there when it happened. But there’s no point in betting since there most certainly won’t be any more. What is it you guys always say, Danny? We got our stuff in order and locked it down tight.” She patted Ben’s crotch. “Isn’t that right, honey?”

Ben winced in response.

“Locked down . . .” It took a second to catch her meaning. “Holy shit, man! Did you have a vasectomy?”

“Christ, Marie,” Ben muttered. “That’s private.”

“Danny’s practically family,” she said, giggling. “To be honest, I’m surprised you didn’t tell him.”

“Tell him what? That I had my manhood snipped?”

But things didn’t add up. Surely, he would have taken extra time off and Danny couldn’t remember that happening. “When the hell did you have this done?”

“Right after she found out she was pregnant with Hannah.”

Danny thought back to that summer and remembered him being out for a medical procedure. “You said you had your knee scoped. You limped around on crutches for a week and wore a knee brace for a month.” Ben didn’t deny his accusations at all, instead he just shrugged his shoulders. “How the hell did you keep that a secret?”

“Michael,” Marie blurted out. “I made him a giant pan of tiramisu.”

“Of course you did.”

Damn his brother and his fucking secrets. Before this last week, never had he realized his brother’s silence could be so easily bought with baked goods.

T
HE EV
ENING WENT
far better than expected and Bree enjoyed being more of a quiet observer than active participant. Sitting there, watching the three of them talk over each other, all trying to be the one to get the last word or the biggest laugh. It was what she’d missed for so long, the elegant simplicity of a dinner out with friends. Back when she was forced to leave behind her life in Columbia and move back in with her parents, never could she have imagined how isolating her life would become.

Having readied herself for bed, Bree opened the bathroom door to find Danny standing in the bedroom doorway opposite her, leaning one shoulder into the doorjamb.

“How do you like Marie?”

“I like her.” Bree lounged against her own door frame, mirroring his stance. “I like both of them, as a matter of fact.”

“I’m glad. Marie can be an acquired taste. A lot of the wives don’t care for her.”

“She mentioned something about lots of drama.”

“There’s a ton of it. Which is why I’m glad you like Marie. She’s very loyal and will do just about anything to help someone else if she can. But she’s also pretty no-nonsense. Doesn’t take crap from anyone. For those who try to backstab or screw her over, there’s hell to pay.”

“I’m not going to lie, Marie was a little intimidating at first.” Danny raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “Okay.
A lot
intimidating. But once I told her the real reason we got married, she eased off. It’s nice to see you have friends that are so protective of you.”

He pushed off the door frame and moved closer, cutting the distance between them by half. With that small movement, the atmosphere suddenly shifted and the air crackled and hummed between them. Not too long ago she snuggled up against him and everything felt very platonic, comfortable. But now? Now he was staring at her with such intensity she found it difficult to catch her breath.

“Do you think I’m in need of protection?”

The low, intimate rumble of his voice scraped across her skin, electrifying every nerve. Years had passed since the last time her body had reacted to any man this way and she’d be lying if she said it didn’t scare her.

She cleared her throat and reached for a safer subject. “Their kids adore you. The boys especially.”

Danny smiled. “You sound surprised.”

“A little, maybe.”

“That I like them or that they like me?” He raised a finger. “Don’t answer that.”

He stepped even closer now, effectively trapping her between his body and the door frame. Danny wound a lock of her brown hair around his fingers, the smooth strands sliding between his forefinger and thumb. He scowled slightly as he studied it, like he was trying to decide if it was human hair or synthetic.

“Do you sleep in this thing?”

She tilted her head to meet his eyes, the back of her head resting against the doorjamb. “No.” Her answer barely more than a whisper.

“Then why are you still wearing it?”

“I didn’t want you to feel awkward.” She couldn’t look at him any longer. Instead, she stared at his chest, watched it rise and fall with each breath.

“Is that why you wore it all day yesterday and again today? Did you think I’d be embarrassed by you?”

He stood too close, asking questions she didn’t want to answer. “People stare, Danny. They see someone my age with little to no hair and they just can’t help themselves. I’m used to it, but—” That was a lie. She wasn’t used to people staring and she never would be. It’s not something she would ever get used to.

“But that doesn’t explain why you’re wearing it now when it’s just the two of us.”

With the side of his index finger he raised her chin, those dark blue eyes boring into her soul, his gaze too knowing, as if he could read every thought that crossed her mind. She loved that about him once, but it scared her now that she had no armor with which to protect herself. And whether he’d mean to or not, he’d break her heart again if she let him.

“If I tell you something will you promise to not find a way to be offended?” One side of his mouth rose in a half smile, crinkling the skin at the corners of his eyes. “I hate this wig.
Hate
it. Reminds me of
Pretty Woman
.”

“Are you suggesting I look like a hooker?” She smiled to show she wasn’t upset. Actually, she was grateful for his honesty, especially since it explained things. In particular, his reaction from the morning before when he saw her wearing it for the first time.

“When I saw you in the grocery store and you were just wearing that ugly hat—”

“Now you’re criticizing my hat, too?”

“—that was so much better. Because it was the real you.”

“I’m sure that was a sight to behold since I was mad as hell.”

He laughed a little at that, nothing more than a low rumble in his chest.

“Tonight at dinner, I couldn’t see your face unless you looked directly at me. So many times, you laughed at Ben or Marie’s story or smiled as you spoke to them and I couldn’t see you.” With both hands he pushed the heavy strands back and away from her face, just as one might draw back the curtains to let the morning sun in after a long, dark night.

“If you couldn’t see my face, how do you know I was smiling?”

“Because I can hear it. Your voice takes on this whole other quality, one you couldn’t fake if you tried.”

“You’re crazy.”

“No, it’s true.”

Bree closed her eyes and turned her head away from him. His one hand went with her, his palm cradling her cheek. Her wig shifted slightly before she realized he had it in his grasp and meant to remove it.

“Danny, no,” she pleaded, grabbing hold of his wrist to stop him.

“Stop hiding,” he whispered, more of a request than demand.