“You would have made a good nurse,” he murmured as she carefully applied an antibacterial gel. At one point she’d wanted to be a librarian. Then there was the summer she’d talked about becoming a veterinarian.
“Maybe.”
A comfortable silence reigned as she fought with a bandage wrapper.
“Good thing you're not bleeding out,” she murmured. “You'd be dead before I could get this stupid thing on you.”
His lips twitched. Standing there next to her sporty car, on a warm October night in Georgia, Boomer remembered why they'd been such good friends all those years ago. Shy or not, she'd always had a smile for him and she'd always been able to make him happy. One smile, one laugh, one day at a time she'd been sunshine in an often-dark world.
“What do you do?” Curiosity got the better of him.
“I'm a wedding stationer.”
“Oh-kay.”
She laughed as she applied the bandage. Somehow the sweet, melodic sound did as much for his mind as the dressing did for his wound. How was it that she could lift his mood in just a few minutes?
“You sound skeptical.”
“I just have no idea what a wedding stationer does.”
“I design invitations, table cards, things like that for brides. Then I print them or have them printed. Then I stuff and address them. Ship them. It's a full-service business.”
“Hmm...” Sounded expensive. Which explained the car. “People pay for that?”
“Brides who want custom paper goods pay for that, yes.”
Sometimes he had a rough time accepting what civilians considered normal. He’d spent so long far removed from society. Most of the guys he knew, Teo, Dylan and Joe included, found acclimating to the stresses that sent normal folks over the edge difficult.
Like Toby. Boomer’s supervisor had a flair for the dramatic, not to mention he was unorganized. Try as he might, Boomer just couldn’t get on the same page with the guy. Or respect him, most days.
“What are you thinking about right this second?” She asked, staring up at him wide eyed and curious as she clutched the first aid kit to her chest.
Opening up to her was as natural as breathing. He braced a hand against the side of her car as she leaned against the hood.
“My boss had a flat tire earlier in the week, made a big stink of it. Like it was the worst catastrophe ever. No exaggeration.”
As if on cue, the phone in his pants pocket vibrated. Boomer would bet a thousand dollars that Toby was texting him about some problem that Boomer had no intention of addressing until next week. He'd more than earned his days off.
“Okay.” She sounded confused.
“Sometimes, well, most of the time, I have trouble relating to people. It’s interesting, maybe a little curious, what people consider important or stress over. A flat tire isn't a big deal, really, unless it causes an accident. Or you’re stuck in a fire-fight in the middle of nowhere.”
“What is a big deal to you?”
He grunted and stared up at the night sky. Despite the old-fashioned street lights dotting the sidewalks of downtown Roseville, he could make out a few of the brighter stars. “IEDs are a pretty big damn deal. Ambush. Losing friends.”
Her gasp brought his head down and around. The sweet O of her lips was the ultimate invitation. Did she know how attractive she was? She had to. She obviously worked hard if her perfect manicure, killer figure, and carefully applied makeup were any indication.
“You're right.” She stared at him for a long moment before dropping her gaze to the pavement and leaning against the hood. “Were you—I mean—how long—”
She paused and then licked her lips. The quiver in her voice told him so much. His words had affected her, and she wasn't quite sure how to absorb them or react to them.
“How do you find your clients?” he asked, directing them back to a safer discussion.
He didn't particularly like rehashing his past. There were obviously areas that were too damned hard to think about much less talk about. But he'd always been proud of his service, the job he'd done for his country and most especially of the lasting friendships he'd made.
“Referrals. Instagram. Magazine shoots. Why did you join the SEALs?”
“Sounded like a good idea at the time.”
In less time than it took him to blink, she was off the car and standing in front of him, vibrating with intensity.
“Getting shot at sounded like a good idea? You knew how dangerous it was, didn't you? Beforehand?”
Damn she was gorgeous when she was feisty. That was new too. What would it take to get her really flustered? Or mad as a momma gator? He'd bet his favorite scope that her eyes would sparkle and her whole body would quake with annoyance.
“I made it home in one piece. That's luckier than most.”
She cut her gaze to the street corner. The party was filtering down their way.
Gnawing her lower lip, she closed her eyes. A second passed, then another. A solid ten seconds later, her chest rose as she took a deep breath. He'd have had to be dead or blind not to notice the way her breasts stretched the black material.
He snatched his gaze away and focused on her face. He liked to look as much as the next guy, but he was happy alone, so it didn't pay to look too long.
“Of all the regrets in my life, you're the only one that makes me wish I had a time machine, so I could go back.”
Her words as much as the sheen of tears in her eyes shocked him. His blood ran icy cold as his brain screamed mayday.
Mayday. Danger. Back away.
They were heading into unsteady territory. Like, behind enemy lines territory.
And fuck if there wasn't a single response that he could think of that didn't make him sound like a complete asshole or take the conversation directly into the territory he'd do anything to stay away from.
She'd broken his heart. He'd grown up, moved on.
