Wind Chime Café (A Wind Chime Novel) (24 page)

A man in a white apron stood behind a serving station, shucking raw oysters and setting them in the half shell on a bed of ice. Will leaned down, his lips grazing her ear. “Have I mentioned how much I like that dress?”

“I think you might have,” Annie said as several women at the bar turned to stare. She spotted Becca in the buffet line and waved, trying to act normal, trying to act like her whole body wasn’t still on fire from the way Will had kissed her out in the street. They made their way through the crowd and Will introduced Colin to his friends.

Becca’s face flushed a warm shade of pink when Colin took her hand. Annie didn’t blame her. At six-foot-four, Colin towered over most of the men in the room. He had the same hard body as Will, but he’d let his midnight black hair grow out an inch or two longer. Add a pair of cool blue eyes, a strong jaw and a full mouth, and it was a pretty irresistible combination.

Well, Annie thought as Will slipped both arms around her from behind and drew her back against his warm solid chest, irresistible to
most
women.

Becca released Colin’s hand and glanced over at Annie. She gave Annie’s outfit a once over and wiggled her eyebrows.
“Hot,”
she mouthed before stepping back into line between Ryan and Colin and snagging a plate from the buffet table.

Annie turned her face up to Will’s, lowering her voice. “Why didn’t you mention Colin was coming to visit?”

“I didn’t know he was.” Will grabbed two plates from the table and handed her one. “It was a spur of the moment decision.” They moved forward a few steps in line and the smells of lemon and butter wafted up from the steaming seafood trays. Will nudged her toward a tray of baked oysters covered in spinach, crabmeat and Parmesan cheese. “These’ll go fast, so grab a few while you can.”

She snagged two for each of them, and glanced back up at him. “Did you drive all the way to Annapolis to pick him up?”

Will added a generous slice of cornbread to each of their plates. “I met him at Walter Reed this afternoon.”

Walter Reed? The military hospital in Bethesda?

No wonder he hadn’t told her where he was going. He’d dodged all her attempts to raise the topic of PTSD since Halloween night, but maybe this was his way of reaching out. Going to Walter Reed, inviting his former teammate back to the island for a few days. Maybe if he could spend some time with other people who understood what he was going through, it would help him heal.

“He had a physical therapy appointment,” Will said, as if that explained it. He picked up a fried oyster, setting it on her plate. “I wanted to see how things were going.”

“And how are they going?”

“Good,” he said, nudging her toward the fritters. “Colin’s mastered the use of the prosthetic. He only has to go back now and then for an adjustment. We spent most of the afternoon talking to guys with injuries a lot worse than Colin’s.” His gaze darkened, dropping to Colin’s left leg where his friend’s prosthetic was hidden beneath a pair of jeans. “I wish I’d gone sooner.”

Annie followed his gaze. If it weren’t for the subtle protrusion of metal through his jeans when he walked, she wouldn’t even know Colin’s real leg wasn’t underneath. She thought about Will, and the burden he carried deep inside him. How many service men and women were back here, living among them, carrying these hidden scars?

“Though I admit,” Will murmured, his voice growing husky as he leaned down, “I may have regretted my decision to invite him down to the island when I saw you wearing that dress tonight.”

Amazing, Annie thought, that he could switch gears so quickly. He put his hand on the small of her back, leading her back to the table.

As soon as they were settled at a booth by the window with a round of drinks, Becca turned to Colin. “How long have you known Will?”

Colin reached for his beer. “We were in the same training class in Coronado, got placed on the same team afterwards.” He looked over at Will. “About ten years, I guess.”

Will nodded.

“Is the training as hard as they say?” Becca asked.

“It’s brutal,” Colin said. “But worth it.”

“What was Will like?” Becca asked, unable to hide her curiosity. “When you first met him?”

Colin smiled. “Will’s reputation in BUD/S is legendary.”

“They don’t want to hear this,” Will cut in.

“Yes, we do,” Becca argued.

Colin popped a fritter into his mouth, lowering his voice. “They called him the Escape Artist.”

“Colin,” Will warned.

“Come on, Will.” Becca laughed. “You’ve never told us anything about that time in your life.”

“He’s just being humble.” Colin leaned towards Becca. “When we were in training, Will had a knack for finding a way out of every trap, knot, or bind the instructors put us in.”

Will remained perfectly still, his hands wrapped loosely around his bottle of beer, but Annie could feel the tension simmering off him. He wasn’t proud of this, she realized. Why did it make him so uncomfortable?

“We had to do this one exercise called drown-proofing,” Colin explained as Becca hung on his every word. “Everyone dreads it. You basically have to jump into a pool with your hands and feet tied together with ropes and do a series of drills without drowning.”

Becca reached for the cocktail sauce. “That sounds awful.”

“It is.” Colin chuckled. “If you panic and someone has to rescue you, you fail. If the ropes come untied, you fail. If you can’t complete the drills, you fail. The only way to pass the test
without
completing all the drills is to physically break free of the ropes.” Colin grinned at Will. “Only two SEALs have ever succeeded at breaking the ropes. Will’s one of them.”

Will took a long pull from his bottle. When he set it back down on the table, he lowered his hands to the bench. Annie could see the tightly coiled muscles of his forearms, the tense rigidity of his fingers as he curled and uncurled them under the table.

“It drove the instructors nuts.” Colin laughed. “But Will always found a way to escape the worst situations they put us in, even when everyone else got trapped.” Taking a bite of cornbread, Colin launched into another story about a training exercise that had Becca and Ryan in stitches.

Annie stole a glance at Will. She knew now why he wasn’t proud of that story. He didn’t want to be the one who always escaped. He didn’t want to be the only one who’d come back from that terrible mission in Afghanistan in one piece. He’d told her himself he wished he’d been the one who’d died.

She thought about Taylor, and the guilt she still felt for being the sole survivor of the school shooting.

The noise from the bar and the voices in the dining room grew, drowning out the rest of Colin’s story as Annie looked down at where Will’s hand rested on the bench seat beside her.

She inched her hand toward him, until her smallest finger brushed against his.

Without a word, he looked down, and hooked his fingers around hers, holding onto her as if she was his rope now, and if he let go, everything would begin to unravel.

Will tossed his
car keys to Colin as they strode out of Rusty’s later that evening. “Keep driving until the road ends. You can’t miss it.”

“Any particular room you want me to sleep in?”

“Pick whichever one you want,” Will said. “There’s beer in the fridge, a TV in the room off the kitchen, and DVDs on the shelves. If you decide to go out to the dock, watch the floorboards on the back porch. A few of them are rotted.”

Colin sent him a mock salute and nodded goodnight to Annie. Will’s hand closed over hers, and they crossed the parking lot to the quiet neighborhood street leading back to the café. Becca and Ryan had decided to stay for another drink at the bar, which meant…she and Will were alone.

Heading back to her place for the night.

She was the one who’d started this. She was the one who’d decided to take this step. But was she really ready? Was she really going to do this? Risk her heart like this?

It was only one night, right?

Then why did it feel like so much more?

“Annie.”

“Yes?”

“Look at me.”

She lifted her gaze to his. In the moonlight, his eyes seemed impossibly dark. Dark and deep and full of secrets. She couldn’t stop thinking about what Colin had said at the table, that Will could get out of any trap, any bind, any knot.

Did he see her as a trap? As someone who would tie him down, make his life complicated?

He could get out of any knot, but she was just learning how to tie them. All she wanted was to root herself to this island with as many knots as she could.

“You’re nervous,” he said.

She nodded.

He stopped walking, pulling her close under the shivering boughs of an ash tree. His hand came up, cupping her cheek. “You have nothing to be nervous about.”

But didn’t she? Didn’t she know exactly what she was getting into? There was no way she would have decided to spend the night with him if she wasn’t already halfway in love with him. And if she was already halfway in love with him, there was no way he could leave now without breaking her heart.

He ran his thumb gently over her bottom lip before his mouth lowered, brushing over hers.

Butterflies, low in her belly, began to stir. They floated up, fluttering tentatively, then flapping their wings faster, until an orange glow fanned out around her heart.

Stay.

The word pulsed inside her, a reckless hope that built with every beat of the wings.

He tugged gently at her bottom lip with his teeth and eased back. Her breath released on a sigh. “Are you still nervous?”

She shook her head.

“Good.” He smiled and slipped his arm around her waist.

They started back down the path and she focused on putting one foot in front of the other, trying to hide the fact that her legs were wobbling not from nerves now but need. They were still a few blocks away from the café, and the only sounds were the crickets chirping in the grasses and the gentle swish of falling leaves.

She stole a glance back up at his profile, wanting to hear the sound of his voice again. “Tell me something else about your day.”

He looked down at her. “What do you want to know?”

“You said you wished you’d gone to Walter Reed sooner. Why?”

He told her about his day at the hospital, about how it had affected him. He told her about Vince, and how he and Colin and a bunch of other vets were training for a run to raise money for an injured Marine so he could go home.

Crossing the street, they climbed the steps to the café. Moonlight illuminated the silver chimes swaying in the wind. “I wish I could be there,” he said, turning to face her. “I wish I could see those twenty-five guys cross the finish line. I wish I could see Vince present his friend with that check.”

“Could you come back for it?” Annie asked.

Will was quiet for a long time as he gazed down at her. “I don’t think I’ll be stateside in January.”

Of course, Annie thought. She knew that. She’d just thought maybe…

“Annie,” he said softly. “I wish I could tell you I was coming back, but I can’t.”

“I know.” She looked down at their joined hands. He’d made it clear this was all he had to offer. He’d been straightforward and honest from the very beginning. All he wanted was a night to wash away his pain.

She could still back out. She could still tell him she’d changed her mind. But when she looked back up at him, all she wanted was to wrap her arms around him and help him forget. Even if it was just for one night, she wanted to see the light come back into his eyes.

Taking a step toward him, she pressed her keys into his hand.

“Will,” she whispered, drawing his mouth down to hers. “Take me to bed.”