Falling for Flynn (5 page)

“You tell me.”

She shrugged, a hesitant smile curving her lips, glossy lips he had no right focusing on when all he should be focused on was dragging the truth out of her.

“It doesn’t have to be an ordeal, as long as you answer my questions.”

Her smile faded as she laid a hand on his forearm. “I’m not the enemy. I don’t need to be interrogated.”

He gritted his teeth against the urge to yank his arm away, against the instant buzz that zapped him.

No matter how much he hated how she’d walked away from him six years ago without a backward glance, how much he blamed her for robbing him of his son’s first five years, how angry he felt just thinking about the injustice of it all, the moment she touched him everything faded until all he wanted to do was reach out and envelop her in his arms.

Ever since he’d bumped into her in the supermarket, he’d wondered what she would feel like now, the softened curves of her body much sexier than the lean angles she’d had years ago. They’d been great together, monumentally great. And she’d still walked anyway.

He’d do better sticking to the plan. Open the new training center, weigh up his next options career-wise, and get to know his son.

Things he could control. Unlike the feelings he’d once had for this frustrating woman.

He stared at her hand and she removed it, the sadness in her eyes slamming into him like a grenade. She may not be the enemy but he couldn’t let her slip under his guard, not after what she’d done.

She hadn’t trusted him enough to tell him about their son, how could he trust her?

“Let’s go. We can discuss this later.”

She hesitated for a second before nodding and as she locked up, took a step along the path, he placed his hand in the small of her back. A reflex gesture, something he’d done a thousand times before and now, like then, the simple action made his pulse race and blood pound in his veins.

He still wanted her.

Despite his anger, her betrayal, her lack of trust, all it took was one tiny gesture to detonate his denial.

He’d fight it, fight this residual attraction with every confrontational cell is his body. He didn’t want to feel this way, didn’t want to soften toward her one iota.

He’d fueled his wrath all day, thinking about all he’d missed because of her: Adam’s first step, first word, first day at kindergarten, first day at school.

He should’ve been there for all of it. Lori hadn’t let him.

Oh yeah, he’d been mighty fired up on the way over here but somehow as she fell into step beside him, his hand lightly touching her back, much of his fury dissipated.

Maybe she’d be more cooperative to chivalry than anger?

Only one way to find out.

Lori had been dreading tonight.

Her new favorite dress and a dash of make-up might’ve helped boost her confidence at home but now, sitting across the table from a tense Flynn, her meager confidence dwindled.

What could she say about withholding Adam from him? She couldn’t tell him the truth.

The army was his life; he’d deliberately chosen it while she hated all it entailed.

He wanted answers. She doubted she’d like the questions.

The awkward silence on the short drive here had been indicative of how far they’d grown apart. She’d wanted it that way, had deliberately severed all contact, so why the traitorous pitter-patter of her heart, the leap in pulse when he’d laid a hand on her back?

It had been six long years since they’d last touched, done more than touching, and she’d tried to forget him.

By the way her heart squirmed under his scrutinizing stare, it hadn’t worked.

She let him order, content to sit back and study him. Wherever he’d been his skin had tanned to olive, with tiny crinkles fanning the outer corners of his eyes. Eyes that once held a glimmer of hope, eyes now shadowed and wary, eyes that had seen too much and learned to shield the horror.

She knew that haunted weariness well, had seen it in her father’s eyes every time he returned from a posting. She’d hated the resultant fall-out, where her mum had pandered to his manic moods and she’d been shooed away to avoid tripping his temper.

Her mom had been patient and loving and understanding to a bad-tempered man who couldn’t wait to get back to his army mates, more than happy to leave his family behind. A family who’d followed him to almost every country on the planet.

And where had mom’s loyalty got her? An early grave, something Lori would never forgive her father for. Sure, she’d grieved in her own way when he’d died but she’d be lying if she said she missed him.

“I didn’t think to ask if you liked Spanish food.”

She shrugged. “Never tried it.”

“Let me guess, you stick to your favorite Vietnamese haunts on Victoria Street.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Fried squid in salt still your favorite?”

Her stomach rumbled and his mouth eased into a smile, the kind of smile he used to give her, warm and unarmed and especially for her.

“That chili, garlic, and shallot combo does it for me every time.”

His smile faded as his gaze dropped to her mouth, intent, focused, while she mentally cursed her poor choice of words.

She didn’t want to acknowledge the underlying awareness between them, content to blame it on his simmering anger sparking a dangerous response deep within her.

But it was there, a potent, invisible force, zinging between them, a buzz that had nothing to do with them sharing a son and everything to do with a spark never forgotten.

“I promise after tonight you’ll add paella to your favorites list.”

“Sounds great.”

He leaned forward, his green polo shirt molding to a broad chest. Another thing that had changed; the rangy body of a young recruit had morphed into hard, lean lines of muscle that shifted along his arms, his shoulders, his chest. As he reached for a wine bottle, she reached for her water glass and took several much-needed cooling gulps.

“Tell me about the training school.”

She wanted to pre-empt his questions, wanted a few answers herself before being in the firing line.

“The army wants to set up a training school for potential recruits. A pre-army camp where applicants can hone their skills before undergoing a rigorous screening program.”

He filled their wineglasses before continuing. “My major found the tract of land in Richmond, thought it’d been perfect. I checked it out, the rest is history.”

“So does that mean you’re staying a while — ” she stopped abruptly, noting the sudden frown, how he gripped the stem of his wineglass. “Sorry, none of my business.”

She’d asked for Adam’s sake, didn’t want her son getting too attached to a man who would pack up his kit and leave in the next week.

Not that she had any control over that. The moment Flynn had discovered Adam’s identity she’d known her son’s life would be irrevocably changed forever.

“I go where I’m posted. Timelines are irrelevant.”

He swirled his wine, focusing on the Shiraz, avoiding her gaze and in that instant she knew he was hiding something.

“So what does that mean for Adam?”

“I want to get to know my son.”

He drained his wineglass before pinning her with an accusatory glare. “Something I should’ve been doing the last five years.”

Seeing the pain contorting his mouth, hearing the anguish in his voice, her heart ached with the knowledge of what she’d done. But she’d done it for Adam. He came first. Always. No way in hell would her son go through what she had.

“I’m sorry.”

She laid a comforting hand over his, not surprised when he snatched it away. When he finally met her gaze his tortured regret threatened her righteous excuses, prompting her to spill the truth and she bit down on her bottom lip to stop from blurting everything.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

She dropped her gaze, focused on her fingers fiddling with the tablecloth, before clasping them so hard her knuckles stood out.

“Because you’d made your choice. The army was your future. You told me the day you enlisted, remember?”

“Don’t you dare put this back on me.”

Every word cracked like a whip through the tension-fraught air, sharp and painful and biting.

“I would’ve been there for you, damn it.”

“Would you?
Really
?”

Anger surged as their gazes locked in a hot, furious battle. Where there’d once been tenderness and love, his furious silent accusations tore into her and made her chest ache.

“You never gave me a chance — ”

“Come off it, you walked away from what we had. We were just starting out and you made your choices, trading uni for the army. You never even discussed it with me, you just did it and expected me to be okay. So I cut my losses for four years and then you show up that night we went crazy … ” She shook her head. “You turned your back on me once. I didn’t want you potentially doing the same to Adam.”

He swore, swiped a hand across his face.

“Is that what this is about? You were mad at me for enlisting and leaving you, so chose to punish me by withholding Adam?”

“Hell no.”

The choices she made had never been about punishing him, had been all about Adam. And would continue to be about Adam, no matter how hard Flynn pushed her for answers.

“Then why?”

She glanced away, torn by the hint of desperation in his voice. She had to give him something, some semblance of the truth. She owed him that much.

“Because even if you’d known about Adam you would’ve left anyway. You would’ve come and gone as you pleased, breaking that little boy’s heart every time, if … ”

She broke off, clamped her lips shut, horrified she’d been about to say
if you came back at all.

“If?”

“Nothing.”

She picked up her wine, drank half in two gulps, the alcohol burning a path down her throat and effectively obliterating the growing lump of emotion there. She’d known tonight would be tough but where had this insane urge to bawl come from?

“This is about you, isn’t it?”

She could deal with his anger and bitterness. The compassion in his voice almost undid her completely.

“You went through the same thing as a kid. With the colonel.”

It was a partial truth and all he’d get from her, so she nodded.

“It was a nightmare, jumping every time the phone rang or someone knocked on the door, for fear of bad news. Then the few times he came home … ”

He leaned forward, reached out to her before sliding his hand away. “Tell me.”

“He wasn’t fit to be a father.”

“And you think I’d be like that?”

The anger was back, clearly audible, and she pinned him with a defiant glare, daring him to disagree.

“You’ve changed. It’s obvious you’ve seen things and done things civilians like me only ever see in horrific censored snapshots on the news.”

She scanned his face, willing him to understand. “You’re harder, edgier. So who knows what kind of father you would’ve made each time you returned from the frontlines for what? A day? Two? A week tops?”

Rather than snap back as she expected his shoulders slumped as he dropped his head into his hands, his defeated posture scaring her more than any of the accusations he could’ve hurled her way.

“It was
my
choice to make.”

She only just heard his muttered response before his head snapped up, his eyes bleak.

“
Mine
, not yours.”

Battling tears, she reached across, covered his hand with hers and this time he let her.

“Maybe but I did what I thought was right for our son. I carried him in my belly for nine months, I gave birth to him, I stayed up nights when he had croup and teethed and cried ’til I thought my heart would break.”

Sniffing, she blinked rapidly, fearing the action too little too late as tears slipped down her cheeks.

“I would’ve done anything to protect him from pain and rightly or wrongly I didn’t want him to go through the agony of never knowing when his dad would show up, how long he’d stay for or when he’d return.”

He handed her a serviette. “Here.”

As she dabbed under her eyes, took deep breaths, Flynn watched her, his unswerving gaze more than unsettling. He waited until she’d regained composure before holding up his hands, palm up.

“I’m not the enemy here. I just want answers.”

“And now you have them. So where do we go from here?”

She needed to know for Adam’s sake, needed to formulate a plan to cope with having Flynn back in her life.

“What you did? Withholding the truth about Adam from me?” He shook his head, sorrow slashing a deep groove between his brows. “Unforgiveable. But I want to get to know my son. I want to spend as much time with him as possible.”

He ticked the first two points off his fingers, hovering over the third.

“And I want for us to get reacquainted.”

“Why?” she blurted, before mentally clapping a hand across her mouth.

The way she’d said it, it sounded like the last thing in the world she’d want.

“Because we’re Adam’s parents. We need to get along, for his sake.”

“I guess you’re right.”

Of course they’d have to be civil, even friendly for Adam not to get suspicious and notice the tension between them.

But what did getting reacquainted mean? The occasional phone call while he was in town? Snatched hellos and goodbyes when picking and dropping off Adam? Dinners? Like the ones they used to share at their favorite Vietnamese restaurant, joking and laughing and sharing dreams over Hanoi beef noodle soup, crispy soft-shelled crabs, and fried eel with lemongrass and chili.

She’d give anything to revert to the carefree couple they’d once been but nothing had changed. Apart from Adam, Flynn still belonged to the army in a way he’d never belonged to her, and he’d vanish to some godforsaken end of the earth in a heartbeat.

Sure, she could let him into her life for Adam’s sake but she’d be damned if she let him re-enter her heart, too.

The arrival of their meal gave her some breathing space and as they tried to make small talk, passed the salt, and kept up the appearance of a couple trying to be polite, she knew keeping the man she’d once loved at arm’s length would be almost as hard as once walking away from him.