“I promise you I don’t have anyone significant in my life. I haven’t spoken to Landon in a month. There’s nothing there between us. He’s just a real good guy who was there for me when I needed him.” Robert undid his grandmother’s hold and handed her off to Mr. Kinkaid then took the four steps toward the open back door of the car.
“Then why does Sophia think something’s there?” She did walk his way as her brow lowered, assessing him again. “I think there’s something you’re not telling me.”
Robert rolled his eyes. How he had wound up in this conversation on this particular day, when the focus should be on breathing a sigh of relief that everything with his fathers’ estate had been settled was beyond him. Even more than that, he didn’t want to talk about Landon.
It had been a solid month with Landon occupying his thoughts both day and night, and the only bit of communication he’d received was a short quick-witted email saying Landon had arrived at his “badass” townhome. When Robert had received that email, he’d been so excited — too excited. He’d planned his response carefully, writing and rewriting each word, but he’d never received another response again from his sergeant.
Not receiving a reply had been a hard pill to swallow. He’d checked and double checked, dozens of times to make sure he’d given Landon all his correct contact information. If the guy was interested, he would have replied or texted or called or something by now. The rejection sucked and had certainly messed with his head, but he didn’t want to give his family something else to worry about. Not necessarily on their behalf, but on his—they were suffocating in their caregiving.
“I’ll see you tonight for dinner.” Robert lifted a hand in a wave and walked away, reaching for the key fob inside his pants pocket.
He sure hoped Thomas, Sophia’s husband, would be at dinner this evening. He’d help Robert navigate any of the matchmaking or harping they may have planned for him, and just like that, his mind filled with Landon again. The mental image of Landon’s dark eyes and that sexy crooked grin hijacked his thoughts. It was enough to make his dick take notice, like it wasn’t always eager to stand up at the thought of Landon. What the fuck was wrong with him?
Robert dropped down in the front seat of his brand-new Audi R8 Coupe that he’d splurged on as a rejection gift for himself and started the V-10 engine on a roar. As satisfying as the rumble was, what he needed more between his thighs was a hard, masculine body. It had been far too long since he’d had sex. But when he had gone out with the purpose of scratching that itch and found some willing partner, Robert could only see Landon every time he closed his eyes. That sexy stare, eyes dark as smoke, fringed with those long black lashes. Nobody held his interest. His dick only wanted to slide between Landon’s full, wet lips.
“Move on, Robert. That’s not in the cards for you,” he muttered out loud, hoping it would finally sink in and stick. Instead of getting lost in the fantasy, he backed out of his parking spot. Robert decided to buy a place nearby as Minnesota was home. He had appointments to keep, no time for thoughts of Landon to derail this newfound motivation.
Landon stared at his reflection in the floor to ceiling mirrors lining the physical therapy clinic at Walter Reed as he executed a wrist curl with the weighted bar in his hand. Thankfully, his body was mending faster than he thought possible, faster than he could remember ever hearing anyone say. He wasn’t sure why he was different, but he’d take it, be appreciative for it so he could get himself back to normal as fast as possible.
“Good job,” Donnie, his physical therapist, said, watching his form as he performed the exercise exactly the way he’d been instructed.
“I got a little ways to go,” he said, looking at his casted left arm. In the best-case scenario, it was going to be a struggle to get back the functionality he’d had before his accident, but if determination had anything to do with healing, he’d get there. Besides, based on his new Master Sergeant, he didn’t need his left arm to be a hundred percent to get off his bullshit light duty job they’d assigned him at Joint Base Andrews.
Donnie chuckled at him. “I think the motivation’s coming from this place. Nobody ever wants to stick around for long.”
Donnie had hit the nail on the head. Landon had volunteered to help with some administrative duties in the understaffed PT clinic until he was placed back on regular duty. What he got stuck with was managing deliveries, schedules, and the cleaning crews.
Landon’s gaze met Donnie’s. Whatever Donnie read of Landon’s menacing stare had him barking out a laugh, so loud everyone in the large room turned their way. “I bet you won’t be climbing up any more abandoned towers.”
“You heard about that?” Landon shot Donnie a hard stare in the mirror and his brow gave a critical arch.
“Yeah, we all did. Heard about your little talking to, too.” Donnie waggled both brows and a grin split his lips as he let that secret slip.
“Yeah, that’s a real ha, ha,” he said dryly.
His letter of reprimand hadn’t bothered him in the least. His Master Sergeant was a realist and hadn’t given him too much shit for being stupid in public. Instead, he’d handed Landon a pen and said, “Sign the reprimand.” Then told him two things: stay out of
