Pieces of Broken Time (22 page)

After driving for a few miles, he exited the freeway and located the popular restaurant row frequented by locals.

“What are you in the mood for?” he asked.

“Anything is fine with me.”

“Italian?”

“Sure.”

Being a weeknight, the place wasn’t as packed as he imagined it was on any given weekend. They were shown a cozy booth with ambient lighting and plenty of privacy. Just the way he wanted. Once Jennifer was seated, he opted for the space next to her.

“This place is beautiful. Have you been here before?” she asked, glancing around appreciatively.

He shook his head. “This is my first time.” The place was nice and appealing, but nothing compared to the woman next to him. “Would you like a glass of wine?”

She shook her head. “I’m still taking pain pills. I don’t think it’s good to mix them.” She turned to look at him.

“True. I guess we’ll be toasting with water tonight.” He raked his fingers through his hair, feeling self-conscious all of a sudden.

Jennifer continued to watch him. “You know, I like you without a beanie. I can see your face better.”

He grimaced. “I have to get out of the hot thing from time to time.” He looked away, not sure if he wanted the attention.

Jennifer tugged at his arm until he was looking directly at her. “Your eyes have always been so expressive and full of depth. It’s like staring at an abstract painting.”

He focused on her face and breathed deep. “I have one left, so that depth is kinda screwed right now. I can tell you this, though: you look spectacular tonight.” His cheeks ached as Jennifer blushed and his grin stretched even wider across his face.

Their little exchange was halted when the waiter appeared, smiling and pad in hand, for their drink and appetizer orders.

“As I was saying, you’re exquisite, but I’m sure you know that already.” He decided to pour it thick, and he took her hand and lifted it to his lips for a kiss.

Jennifer took on a deep cherry hue while she squirmed under his touch.

Although she let him keep holding her hand, he sensed that, just like him, she wanted to shift the attention away from herself.

“Tell me, what do you intend to do after your treatment?”

He scowled out of habit but remembered that he was on best behavior watch. He leaned against the leather cushion and sighed.

Might as well come clean
.

“I’ve never thought about it.”

“Why?”

He glanced sideways at her, tilting his head slightly. “Do you have a questionnaire with you?”

She giggled. “Actually, I had them memorized, and you didn’t answer my question.”

He turned her palm up and trailed his fingers across the lines while he searched for the right things to say. “Well, before I enlisted, I had a degree in music. I always dreamt of writing music, and playing in front of a crowd.” He started strumming an imaginary chord inside her hand.

“You still have that degree, right?”

He narrowed his eyes and nodded.

“I don’t see why anything should stop you from doing what you wanted.”

Blake had to hand it to her. Jennifer was a woman who said things as she saw them. Just like Trent had described her.

“I don’t see how I can play around people and not make them uncomfortable.” He gestured to his face.

“There isn’t anything there that repulses me.” She pulled her hand from his and traced her fingers along his damaged cheek. “I think the eye patch gives you a mysterious air, and it’s sexy.”

Mysterious?

Sexy?

Okay, now that’s not awkward
.

The very thing he abhorred, she found sexy?

“I don’t know what to say to that,” he said, pulling her hand away from his face.

“Say that you’ll think about writing songs and playing for me.”

Blake stared at her in disbelief.

Was she really asking him to do the one thing he dreaded to do? And what good would it do? He’d start hoping for more, and that would lead to embarrassment and potential disappointment.

“Am I one of the causes you’re championing? Getting a down-and-out vet into circulation again?”

Jennifer jutted her chin in her familiar display of stubbornness, and then nodded. “Yes. You have no business hiding at home.”

Blake felt a hint of irritation rise, but before he could lash out at her, the server arrived with their drinks, a basket of focaccia bread, and dipping oil. The server left with their entrée orders, buying Blake more time to compose himself. A good thing, since he was tired of being angry.

If the woman would just stop hitting so close to home.

For the next few minutes, they busied themselves with the antipasto.

After he had taken a few bites, Blake wiped his mouth with the dinner napkin and faced her. “I’m not hiding. I just don’t see how easy it would be to rejoin the world after what I saw in the battlefield and the people I have killed. The guilt is not easy to live with.”

This was the most he’d said to anyone about returning from active duty with a career-ending injury. It felt good to get it off his chest, but it also left him in unchartered territory of being weak and exposed.

Jennifer watched Blake lower his gaze and close his eye.

An unfamiliar ache shot through her heart for all that he had gone through. She saw the anguish in his face and heard the suffering in his voice. What had this man seen out there for him to come home broken and feeling like he had nothing else to offer?

She bit her lip to keep from tearing up. She choked a sob and swallowed hard.

Their entrees came and put further discussion on hold.

She had lost her appetite but pretended to eat by shoving the pasta around her plate. Throwing desperate glances at Blake, she kept tabs on his progress. After eating half, he had started doing the same thing with his chicken parmigiana.

Blake summoned the waiter for a refill of his water, took a deep breath, and picked up her hand after the long and tense silence. “It’s terrifying to discover that after eight years in the service the rest of the world has moved on without me, without us. I don’t know how to act around people anymore. I feel alienated, and that is not just others’ doing but my own, too. It’s difficult to forget the faces; the lives I took, the ones taken from me. Nothing feels the same. I don’t understand it when people tell me I’m lucky to be alive. I only have one eye. When I’m in an unfamiliar place, I bump into things. I have a limp that might not ever go away, and I . . . it’s all so messed up.”

Jennifer absorbed his emotions as if they were her own and found a newfound respect and compassion for the man. Just like Trent, Blake had seen enough atrocities in the field to give him a lifetime of nightmares and sleepless nights, but to let him dwell on what he had lost and his limitations was a great disservice.

She lifted his chin with her free hand until he was looking at her. “Have you talked to someone about your feelings?”

“Talk to a shrink?”

She nodded. Certainly the stigma of speaking to a specialist could scare anyone back into his cave.

His jaw pulsed, and she felt his tension at her fingertips. “I don’t need anyone to tell me that I’m not the only one who feels this way.”

“Blake, listen to me. Refusing to talk is the one thing keeping you stuck. You have
so
much to live for. I’m not an expert, and I won’t tell you how to live your life. I just want to see you try to be happy.”

“Why?” His voice was low and husky.

No point lying.

She held his gaze, unwavering. “Because I care for you.”

“Since when?”

She sighed and summoned the strength to go on. “The moment we first . . .”

“Aren’t you in the least bit disgusted by my appearance?”

Shaking her head, Jennifer closed her eyes for a brief moment. When she reopened them, they were filled with tears. “And I’ve never once felt pity. You have enough of it for yourself.”

“What about Trent?”

She took a deep breath, deciding that, once and for all, Blake had to know her true feelings. “I love him. I still do, but not in the same way he did me. He was my protector and best friend, and I’m grateful for our friendship. When he proposed, I didn’t have the heart to say no. I agreed to marry him for the wrong reason. I felt guilty. I was planning to tell him the truth the next time he returned, but I never got the chance.”

Blake inhaled a sharp breath, twined their fingers, and lifted them to his mouth, kissing the back of her hand. “I have nothing to offer anyone. Damaged goods don’t do well in relationships these days.”

“I’m not asking you for anything but to give yourself a chance to live again, and to quit hiding behind your injuries. Allow me to help you.”

“What can you possibly do for me?”

A breath of hope sluiced through her veins. “I can start by going with you to your appointment tomorrow.”

He stared at her. “What appointment?”

“With the eye specialist.”

Blake closed his good eye and shook his head. “I don’t know about that.”

“It’s your call. I’m just here as a cheering squad.”

He laughed a brittle sound that cracked with emotion. “What would this cheering cost me?”

“Nothing, except your word that you won’t shut me out. No more Mr. Grumpy.”

He opened his eye and focused on her, offering a small smile. “Promises, promises. I’ll see what I can do.”

Not bad at all.

In truth, his word was good enough for her. With Blake, taking one step forward meant being prepared to take two steps back. It would be challenging and also disconcerting, but she believed he was worth it.

Chapter 19

“Hey, wake up!” Jennifer whispered in Blake’s ear.

He stirred. “Hmm . . .”

She touched his shoulder and gave him a gentle nudge. “Blake, you’ve got a doctor’s appointment, remember?”

Blake peeled his eye wide, and his first reaction was to reach for the patch on his nightstand. When his hand hit nothing but air, he bolted upright, covering the socket where his eye used to be. When he felt the leather cover in place, he sagged back down.

She knelt down next to him with a worried expression. “I wouldn’t have come in if you weren’t wearing your patch.”

“I don’t appreciate being surprised.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“You always make me uncomfortable.” The sting in his proclamation was hard to ignore.

Here we go again.

She took a deep breath and touched his shoulder. “Okay, let’s stop this. I’m getting sick of you running hot and cold on me.”

Her heart tripped a little. His bouts of crankiness were understandable. As much as she wanted to coddle Blake, she knew she had to play a tough role to keep him focused on himself and not on his misgivings.

“Then stay out of this room.” He glared at her.

She crossed her arms over her chest, and glared back. “And if I don’t?”

With a sudden movement, he snaked a hand around her waist and pulled her to him. She almost stumbled, but he kept her steady. “You’re going to get this,” he said before seizing her mouth in an urgent kiss.

She stared at him, dumbfounded, her lips tingling.

Blake got to his feet and offered her a hand. “It’s about time I left you speechless.” This time, his deep chuckle reverberated around the room. He held her shoulders tight and pivoted them to face the door. He leaned toward her neck and grazed his lips across her skin. “Be a good girl and wait for me outside.”

And like a good girl, Jennifer left the guest room, still reeling. If he kept this up, her resolve to keep things light between them would mean nothing.

She went back to his bedroom and sat on the bed while listening closely to the sounds of him moving around the other room.

The ever-changing emotions that Blake had been exhibiting spelled trouble. She wasn’t looking for a quick romp, but she couldn’t figure out where the teasing and flirting was going to lead them.