Ride The Mustang (SEALs Going Hot) (9 page)

But as they rode the elevator back up to their floor, April couldn’t help thinking it would take a lot more than luck to breach that man’s emotional fortress.

****

April did her best not to pace. She knew Mustang and his team arrived back at base Friday night. She had entertained the faint hope he might call her, but Diane had indicated it would be very late. So, no call. This morning she’d stared at the phone willing it to ring, but it stayed infuriatingly silent. Finally, she decided to clean the kitchen. That always took her mind off things. By the time the phone did ring, she was a lot calmer.

Until she heard his voice. The warm, husky tone always made her melt.

“Up for a little company?” he asked.

“Um, sure.” He was so noncommittal she couldn’t read anything into it. “What time? Shall I fix lunch? Or maybe a picnic?”

Silence.

“How about if I bring lunch?” he suggested. “I’ll get Chinese takeout from that place you like.”

Did that mean he was staying after they ate?

Get yourself together.

“That would be great.”

“See you about one.”

Well, not much from that conversation. Was he here for an afternoon in the bedroom? The weekend? Or is this a farewell meal?

If it is, so what? I can handle this.

She repeated it like a mantra. She was a big girl. An adult. Diane had tried to prepare her for the kick in the gut. Foolishly, she’d hoped getting him to let her into his secret world of sexual pleasure made a difference, but…

I’ll get past it. I will.

Now, she paced, checking her watch as the minute hand ticked up to one o’clock. When she heard his car pull into her driveway, she backed into the kitchen, not wanting to appear too anxious in case he looked through the living room window. When the doorbell rang, she pasted on a bright smile and opened the door.

For a moment, the sight of him took her breath away. Then she stood back to let him enter.

“I hope I remembered what you like.” He carried the large bag into the kitchen.

“I’m sure you did just fine.” Just as she was sure she wouldn’t be able to eat much. “I set the table. Let me get this food out of the bag and open it.”

Could a meal have been more uncomfortable? She asked herself as they made polite conversation and picked at their food. He couldn’t discuss the mission, and she didn’t really want to talk about her work. Finally, she cleared their plates and the remaining food, took a deep breath, and turned to him, leaning against the counter.

“I know there’s something on your mind. It’s obvious. You look like you’re sitting on a pincushion, so out with it.”

He busied himself with a long swallow of his water and set the glass down very carefully. “April, I—” He shook his head. “I want to—”

“Geez, Fletch. Just get it out there. Are we done seeing each other?”

The look of shock on his face would have been humorous if she felt the least bit like laughing.

“I didn’t— How did you—”

She folded her arms across her chest. “You think Diane didn’t tell me about you before we even went out? Mr. No-Commitment Call. Not even love ’em and leave ’em, because apparently the big bad SEAL doesn’t fall in love. Ever.”

“April—”

She held up a hand, palm outward. “Since you seem to be having such a hard time with words today, I’ll just keep going.” She chuffed a breath. “I thought we had something special going here. I actually thought, especially after you let me in to what turns you on sexually, some of that wall you built around yourself was crumbling. But I was wrong, wasn’t I?”

His eyes took on a shuttered look. “Would you believe me if I say I wish you weren’t?”

April had hoped to keep this conversation civil and adult, but anger was slowly burning its way up from deep inside her body. “I say wishing means nothing. If you want something you go after it. Take it.” She started to move back to the table but decided it was better to keep the distance between them. “I tried my best to make you value what we have. And we do have something, no mistake about it. But apparently you’re too much of a coward to admit it. So if you came here to tell me we won’t be seeing each other any more, let me do it for you. We’re done. Finished. That should make you very happy.”

She turned back to the sink, needing a moment to pull herself together.

He moved so soundlessly she didn’t hear him get up from the table or move to where she stood. When his hands touched her shoulders, it startled her.

She jerked away from him and sidestepped. “Don’t touch me. You lost the right.”

The look on his face was so painful, so filled with anguish, she almost changed her mind. Almost.

“Would you believe me if I told you how much it hurts me to do this?”

“No. Not at all.” She tightened her hands into fists. “Because if it hurts that much, then you shouldn’t be doing it. What are you afraid of, Fletch? We’re good together. Damn good. But both of us have to believe it. So what’s the problem?”

He took a step back. “I can’t talk about it. I can’t—”

“I’d like you to leave now.” April had enough. She wanted him gone so she could maintain her dignity and fall apart in private.

“April—”

“Now. Please.”

For a moment, he appeared to waver. Then he shook his head. “I am so sorry. You have no idea. You—You’ve made me look at things in my life differently.”

“But not differently enough for you to keep me, apparently. So go. Get out of here.”

She held her breath until he gave a sharp nod, turned, and left the room. She held it together until the front door closed, then she sank to the floor, put her head on her knees, and let the tears come.

She had no idea how long she sat there, crying until her eyes burned and her throat was raw. At last, she pushed herself to her feet, forced herself to finish cleaning the kitchen. Finally, she called Diane.

“Emergency,” she said in a tight voice. “Need ice cream.”

“Oh, honey. Did it happen?”

She couldn’t stand the sympathy. “Just bring the ice cream.”

“See you in thirty.”

April hung up and went to change into her oldest pair of shorts and a worn T-shirt. No sense crying all over her good clothes again.

****

Iceman was waiting in his truck when Mustang arrived back at his quarters.

“So I guess you did the deed,” the man said as he unfolded himself from behind the wheel.

“What does that mean?” Mustang asked, his voice edged with acid.

“You chickened out. Dumped a woman who could finally help bring some warmth and meaning to your life again.”

Mustang headed for his door. “So I guess she’s out spreading the word about what an asshole I am.”

“Actually, the only reason I know is because Diane called off our plans for the weekend and headed to April’s with about twenty bucks worth of ice cream.”

Mustang turned, pushed his sunglasses down in the bridge of his nose and stared over the top of the frame. “Ice cream?”

Iceman shrugged. “Apparently it works better than alcohol and doesn’t leave you with a hangover.”

“I don’t want to discuss it.”

When he opened the door and walked in, Iceman was right on his heels. “Too bad. You get the fifty cent lecture from me whether you want it or not.”

“Fine.” Mustang turned and found himself practically nose to nose with his friend. “Get it off your chest, then get out.”

“Sometimes you are such an ass.” Iceman dropped into a big easy chair. “All these years you’ve blamed yourself for Viv’s death when you weren’t even there. How exactly does that figure? She died instantly, guy. There was nothing anyone could do.”

Mustang stared at a spot on the wall. “I wasn’t here.”

“Ooookay. And exactly how does that make it your fault?”

“If I’d been here, I might have talked her out of going.”

Iceman stared at him, astonishment on his face.

“Do you seriously believe that? Viv was her own person. And she’d hiked dozens of times without incident.”

“Damn it, Ice. If you must know, I’ve never been able to get past the pain. I don’t know if I ever will.”

“Well, that is just fucking stupid. Unfortunately, people lose loved ones all the time. But they pick up the pieces and move on with their lives.”

Mustang turned and looked out the window. “I can’t do it again. If I let myself get into a real relationship with April and something happened, I don’t know if I’d survive it. Not a second time.”

There was a long moment of silence. When Iceman spoke again, it was in a low, even voice. “Yes, you would. But you might not even have to. You were a kid when this happened. Barely past twenty-one. Now, you’re a SEAL, with all that means. An adult, or so I’d like to think. Don’t walk away from something so meaningful because you can’t get over what happened to that kid.”

“Well, it’s done, anyway. So forget about it.”

“Fine. Then it’s your job to entertain me this weekend.”

“Yeah? How do you figure that?”

“Because my girl is spending it with the woman who was supposed to be
your
girl and I’m out in the cold.”

“Fine. You can come to the club with me while I get drunk.”

“Nope.” Iceman shoved himself up from the chair. “Not gonna happen. Come on.”

“Wait. Where are we going? Because I don’t plan to be sober all weekend.”

“Tough shit.” Iceman pushed him into his bedroom. “Get on your oldest gear. You and me are going fishing.”

Mustang stopped in his tracks. “Fishing? Are you the fuck out of your mind?”

“Nope. Gonna have a great afternoon on the water.”

“I haven’t been fishing since, well, since the last time I was at the ranch.”

“And that was when?” When Mustang didn’t answer him, he said, “I thought so. Time to reacquaint yourself with nature and a peaceful day on the water. Maybe you can clear out that fucked up brain of yours. Besides, if you ruined my weekend, I’m going to ruin yours.”

It was already ruined. In more ways than one.

Chapter Seven

April followed the twisting path through the trees. Well, maybe path wasn’t exactly the right word. Twigs and dead leaves crunched beneath her feet as she found footing on the huge hill—almost a small mountain behind Diane’s grandfather’s farm. The two of them had hiked here a few times, although Diane was much more the athlete than she was. But today she was glad her friend had pushed her. It kept her from hiding in bed all day, trying to find a way to heal her heart.

Ahead of her, Diane was moving with the surefootedness that came with familiarity with the terrain. They had hiked here together a couple of times, but today April’s mind wasn’t exactly on her current activity.

“Coming?” Diane had stopped and turned to look back.

“Yes.” April swallowed a sigh. “On it.”

“Come on, honey. We’ll work up a sweat, get to the plateau, have a picnic, and curse all men.”

“Really?” April managed to laugh. “Even Charlie?”

“Well. Maybe not him.”

“Should I tell him he almost didn’t make the cut?”

“I think we’ll keep that to ourselves. You want to stop for water and a snack?

April snorted. “No, not yet. I’m good for the moment.”

“Then come on.” Diane shifted her backpack. “Let’s get going.”

April cast a quick look off to her left where the hill fell away. A steep drop with trees and underbrush scattered across the landscape. “Okay.”

She wished she could get Mustang and their confrontation yesterday out of her mind. She managed to keep herself together very well until he left, but then the combination of anger and loss had nearly devastated her. If not for Diane and an excess of ice cream, she might have spent the past hours huddled beneath her covers. Foolishly, she had hoped he’d deny her accusations, tell her she was mistaken and—what? Pull her into his arms and express his feelings for her?

She was so sure he had strong feelings for her but that he fought them. Commitment, a relationship, all of it scared him. Brought back whatever it was that haunted him. So he ran for the safety of isolation, denying what they both knew had grown between them.

She had put up a good front with him, taken the initiative so
she
could be the one to end it, even while hoping he’d tell her she was wrong. But the ache in her heart and the need in her body wouldn’t be going away for a very long time. Unfortunately. It would take a lot more than an ice cream binge to ease the pain.

Stop it. Stop thinking about him.

She concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, keeping her balance, using the skinny saplings and thick bushes for leverage when she needed to. The best part about this was the need to focus on what she was doing, which forced thoughts of Mustang out of her mind.

Mostly.

“Come on, slowpoke.”

April looked up to see Diane, grinning down at her from about fifty feet ahead on the steep hill. “Hey,” she called. “I’m not part mountain goat the way you are. I’m coming.”

“We can eat and drink when you get here,” she teased. “Get going. I’m hungry.”

“Okay, okay, okay.”

April made her way slowly to the small level space where Diane waited, blowing out a breath as she balanced herself on flat ground.

“Are you sure this is what I need to be doing?” she asked.

“Of course. Takes your mind off everything else. Let it wander, and you can fall on your ass.”

April grunted. “Is that better or worse than falling on your ass in life?”

Diane looked at her with sympathy in her eyes. “We’ll hear no more of that. From here on in, no mention of men of any kind. Not even mine.”

“You can talk about Charlie,” April said grudgingly.

“Nope. Not even Charlie today. Open your pack and take out your goodies.”

They sat quietly, munching protein bars and drinking bottled water, not talking, just listening to the sounds of the birds and small animals around them. When they finished, they stowed their trash and stood up.

“Not much further to the top,” Diane said. “Then it’s an easy glide downhill. Remember, concentrate on your feet, not men.”