CHAPTER SIX

Carson

The next morning, I went downstairs at nine for breakfast. I was pleased to find that I was not too late. In fact, it seemed, I was early: Of all the family, only Brett and Reese were down there, having toast in the early morning sun. The kitchen smelled of fresh-brewed coffee and toast and a delicious warmth.

“Morning,” I said quietly, tiptoeing round in my trainers to an unoccupied seat. I didn’t want to wake up anyone who was sleeping. Especially not Amelia. I remembered she loved sleeping in. when I saw an empty coffee-mug on the drainboard, I raised a brow. There were lipstick stains on it and I wondered if it was hers.

“Hey, Carson.” Brett smiled, breaking my focus. “A good rest last night?”

“Coffee?” Reese asked at once.

“Mm.” I nodded, enthusiastically. “Yes, please. That’d be great.” I took a seat at the table.

Brett laughed. “You and coffee. The day when you say no to that is the day Hell freezes over.”

“I don’t drink that much coffee,” I said, pretending to be defensive. He laughed.

“And it doesn’t snow in winter either.”

“Well…” I looked out of the window onto the bare, cold ground of the yard, where there was clearly no snow. Brett groaned.

“Reese, remind me that this man always has to try beating me…”

We chuckled. Reese passed me a mug of coffee.

“Thanks,” I said fervently, and I closed my eyes, drinking it appreciatively. The kitchen was warm, morning sun cheery. I leaned back to savor it.

“Is everyone asleep?” I asked, looking at the stairs. As if in answer, a giggle drifted down to us.

“Amelia’s with the kids,” Brett said. “When she stays here she often plays with them.”

“Really?” I was surprised. The thought of Amelia being playful and liking kids was something that hadn’t occurred to me before. My heart lurched painfully.

“Yes,” Reese nodded. “She’s a great help.”

“We would pay her to move to LA.”

We all laughed. “She’s great,” I agreed. “I can imagine she’s a help.”

“Yes.” Brett nodded. He gave me a funny look—considering, maybe—and I blushed, looking into my coffee.

I was surprised by how much I felt for Amelia. I was, if anything, even more surprised by how little had changed between us. She was still everything I wanted and I was still ragingly, impossibly, wildly attracted to her.

The connection is still there too.

Sitting next to her at dinner had been so uncomfortable, for two reasons. Firstly, because every time I breathed in, I could smell the sweet floral scent of her and it was driving my poor body wild. Second, because every time I saw her, we were young again and alone, looking at each other with love.

And walking into her coming out of the shower had been something else.

My lips lifted into an unstoppable grin. My cock was hard just thinking of what it had been like, standing there in the corridor with my eyes feasting on her body and her eying me out.

I never expected it to be like this now. That was the thing that was the hardest. The fact that, now, I couldn’t deny it anymore. I loved Amelia. I had forced myself to forget it; made myself believe that she was my first girlfriend and that was why it’d been so epic, so wonderful. But it wasn’t that.

I’m thirty-one now and not exactly inexperienced. And I still feel just the same.

She was still upstairs with the kids: I could just hear her giggling as she played with them, making it so hard to concentrate on what Brett was trying to tell me. My mind was up there with her, watching her laugh and tickle them and be the lighthearted, beautiful person I always loved.

The conversation had shifted, some time, to when Brett and Reese moved into their house together. I realized I had been daydreaming and shifted gear, focusing on their words. It wasn’t hard to catch up.

“…and then we added a garage at the back…”

“Mm,” I nodded, trying to add some comment to the conversation to make it clear I wasn’t completely ignoring him. I wasn’t—I was just preoccupied with the new usual: thinking of Amelia.

“You should have seen it!” Reese was laughing. “You’d think he was building it himself, he was so proud!”

I laughed too. I could imagine it of Brett. It was weird, seeing him and how he’d settled down. He was always such a firebrand when we were in college together—always on the football pitch or at parties. Always starting something. I often found myself feeling protective of him, since his open, direct nature sometimes led him into danger. But now, he had settled down.

“Brett Carlyle, house-proud dad.”

I saluted him with my glass. He pulled a tongue.

“Well, what’s wrong with that?” he asked, when we had stopped laughing.

“Nothing,” I said wistfully. “Nothing at all. It’s great.”

I meant it. Seeing him here, so happy and settled with his loved ones made me feel a yearning for something similar. It was strange. All my life I had resisted that, wanting to be free and alone. I had imagined a family and a wife would prevent that. Now I was starting to see that the love and support of Brett’s family actually made it easier for him to achieve more.

“You are staying in Boulder permanently?” Reese asked. I nodded.

“I’m discharged, Reese,” I reminded her gently.

“Good,” she said, nodding her head. Brett grinned.

“Discharged! So he can’t explode anymore, Reese.”

I grimaced. It was a funny pun, but for me it made my skin crawl. Anyone who has stood on land that could be mined, or waited for a bomb to drop didn’t joke about exploding.

“Yeah,” I said quietly.

Brett seemed to realize he hit a nerve, because he cleared his throat. “Well, does anyone want some more muesli? I do.”

I heard his chair scrape as he headed into the kitchen. I looked at Reese, who lifted her shoulder in a shrug and gave a light laugh.

“Well, it’s good you could be here with us for Christmas,” she said warmly. I nodded once more.

“Yes. I’m glad too.”

We sat in a polite silence until Brett joined us, bringing the milk and cereals with him. He put it in the middle of the table so we could all take some. I tried to think of something to say, but I felt too distracted to make conversation. Upstairs, the laughter had quietened.

“I wonder if Amelia’s staying up there?” Brett chuckled. Reese smiled.

“She’s great with the kids,” she observed for a second time, running her fingers along her collar thoughtfully. “I don’t know what I’d do without her sometimes!” She seemed on edge and I felt bad. I hadn’t meant for my sudden gloominess to put pressure on her.

“Yeah,” Brett chuckled. “Like when we were skiing. Remember?”

“Yes!” Reese laughed. “I nearly died laughing about that. So typical Amelia.”

“Oh?” I asked, raising a brow. A story about Amelia was going to be interesting. I leaned forward in my chair expectantly.

“Yeah!” he said to me. “We were we in the mountains. It must have been last year, actually. Anyway, Amelia was with us and…it was last year, wasn’t it—Josh was four?”

“Yes, that’s right.” Reese affirmed.

“Anyway. Amelia came skiing with us. Now keep in mind Amelia has never skied. So there we were at the top of the slope—a small slope, since the kids were just little—us, Cayley, Josh, and Mel. And we start. Josh starts off down the slope. He’s skiing down, yelling like he’s being sawed in half. The excitement was too much for him. And anyway, Mel thinks he’s been hurt. So off she charges, forgetting she has skis on. She skids on the slope, lands on her behind and skates all the way down. Poor girl!”

He was chuckling and I couldn’t help laughing too. It was funny. But even as I laughed, I realized how typical it was of her, to run to save a child without thinking about it. Putting herself in danger without a second thought. She reminded me of Pete that way—always looking out for others. I had forgotten that about her.

“Brett!” a voice from the door said. I turned around. Amelia was standing there. Her hair had come loose from its ties and it flowed around her head in those soft waves I’d always loved, even though she called it messy. She was wearing a pale pink sweater and jeans and she looked incredible. The front was tight over her high, round breasts and I found I could look nowhere else.

“What?” he asked, grinning wickedly.

“What are you telling people about me now?” Amelia said with a teasing smile.

“Nothing, sis,” he said innocently.

“Brett was just talking about the holiday,” Reese explained.

“Which holiday, Brett?” she asked, blue eyes wide. Her mouth was a soft pink “o”, and my loins tugged painfully looking at her.

“He told the story about your skiing lesson,” I said quickly. It wasn’t fair not to tell Amelia the truth.

She blushed. It looked spectacular. I found it very hard to look anywhere else. “Brett!” she said. She was caught between laughing and complete indignation. “Are you embarrassing me?”

“No,” he said with a prim expression. “Would I?”

“Brett!” she said again, laughing, and launching herself at him to give him a playful punch on the arm. “You are such a…big brother!”

He was laughing helplessly and I joined in. I couldn’t help it. It was as if we were all kids again and the world was right and Brett and I were at his home, with Amelia. Like it was when we first met.

“Come on, you two,” Reese said, seeming uncomfortable with the rough interchange between the siblings. “I thought we could all try that new coffee you bought yesterday.” She raised inquiring brows at Brett and he sighed, laughter subsiding.

“I’ll fetch it,” he promised. He headed to the pantry. We could hear him rummaging about.

Amelia, without Brett to torment for a moment, came and sat down beside me. She shot me a look under her brows that made me laugh. She looked indignant and wicked at once. I didn’t even think about what I was doing. I reached out and put my hand on her shoulder, squeezing it firmly.

She tensed. I instantly took my hand away.

You absolute fool, Carson!

Now she was probably going to be cross with me. Did I really have to forget myself like that? We had split years ago! But the habit was still there. It was like the intervening years did nothing to change us being together. It might be as if nothing had changed, but things had changed. Touching her wasn’t necessarily permissible. Not now and not yet.

“Sorry,” I whispered.

She looked at me. Her eyes had a strange expression that I couldn’t fathom. I cleared my throat, ready with an excuse for my action.

“I…”

“Here we are,” Brett said, saving me from my mire of awkwardness. “A strong coffee for anyone? Any takers?”

“Me, please!” I said immediately. I was firmly addicted to coffee at the moment. Brett was right.

He rolled his eyes at me. “I knew you’d say yes, Grant.” He chuckled. “Amelia?” Brett asked. She nodded.

“I know I’ve already had one—okay, one and a half—but just make me another half, please?”

The lamp above the table shone soft light on her hair and I sighed. She was so beautiful.

“Okay. So five coffees it is, then. Coming up.”

“Four and a half,” I reminded.

Amelia grinned at me in a way that took my breath away. I felt as if my lungs were full of treacle and I coughed, loins tugging hard and grinned back.

“Oh, you perfectionist,” Brett grumbled, making coffee.

“Are the kids coming down soon?” Reese asked Amelia. She nodded again.

“I think so. I think Josh is, anyway. Cayley’s still playing in my makeup.” She grinned.

Reese rolled her eyes. “She’s so naughty at the moment!”

“She’s growing up.”

I had been about to say it when Amelia took the words out of my mouth. I smiled at her. She flushed again and looked at the table. I wondered whether she had forgiven me for my sudden touch.

“I know,” Reese agreed wearily. “But it’s always so tiring when she has to have a different opinion on everything!”

“She’s using her mind,” Amelia said gently. “A lot changes up there at that time.” I nodded in agreement.

“Kids have to test out new ideas,” I said. Reese gave me a funny look as if to ask me how the heck I knew about kids. I sighed. I didn’t want to get into an argument.

“And they have to test out makeup,” Amelia chuckled. “I wish I’d learned more then.”

Brett appeared with the coffees and placed one in front of his sister fondly.

“I remember you at that age, Mel. You wanted to know everything.”

Amelia laughed. “It wasn’t a quest for knowledge, exactly,” she recalled. “It was ‘cos I hated it when you knew something I didn’t know!”

“I know,” Brett chuckled. He lowered himself into the chair, tried the coffee and pulled a face.

I laughed and tried it myself. Hot, strong and sweet, it was good. I sighed. Amelia laughed.

“You always did enjoy coffee. I remember.” She said, surprising me. I had half-expected her to be cross with me about the unwarranted contact.

“I like it more now,” I said. “In fact, I can’t actually believe I drove here without it.”

She laughed. “It must’ve been a long ride. You in Colorado now?”

I nodded. “In Boulder.”

“Must be lovely,” she observed.

“It is.”

Talking to her felt natural. It was as easy as it had been initially. Which was odd, since we’d not seen each other for years now. I was amazed by how nice she was actually being to me. It wasn’t like I was that nice to her ten years ago. Maybe she had decided to let the past go. I hoped so.

“What will you do, now you’re discharged?” Brett asked, interrupting our conversation. I put my glass down carefully.

“Well, I don’t know, Brett,” I said softly. Part of me wished he hadn’t asked that here. I hadn’t any real plans for my life and I desperately didn’t want to discuss them in front of Amelia. If she knew I had no formal job yet and was despairing of getting one, she might think bad things about me. I surprised myself by how much her opinion mattered to me.

“Brett, let the poor man drink his coffee,” Reese interrupted. I gave her a grateful smile.

“It’s good coffee, Brett.” I said, changing the subject.

“Mm. It is,” Brett nodded. “A guy at work got me buying it and now I can’t stop.”

I laughed. “I can imagine.”

“We have it at the I near my work too,” Amelia observed, “I don’t go anywhere else, now.”

“When Lenny first brought it to the office, I remember it was a really tough day. I needed it. We were just landed with a contract, and…”

The conversation turned to a story from Brett’s work. I sat and listened idly, but I wasn’t really listening. My mind was filled with Amelia.

The question of what I was going to do with my life now that I was no longer in active service had set my mind on a darker path than it had been. I realized that I should stop thinking wistfully of second chances, settling down. And that I should, especially, stop thinking about taking up with Amelia.

What do I have for her?

I was a mess. I had no formal employment, I found it hard to sleep at night. My mind was plagued with memories of Iraq—the heat, the sun, the noise. The death. I was a changed man.

There isn’t a road back for me. I don’t belong here, at a family dinner, drinking coffee. I’m a loner; a wild thing of desert and pain and loss.

I told myself that because it was true. How would I feel if I woke up from a nightmare and Amelia was beside me in the bed, seeing me shaking and messed up? I would feel humiliated. When we were young, she had thought me as tough, invincible. That was probably what she liked about me. She would despise the man who couldn’t sleep without medication, whose dreams sometimes woke him up screaming.

I have seen men blown to bits. Faced the same death. Seen comrades die. I can’t sleep.

I was a changed person. A person who just wanted four walls and a bed that would be there when I came home; three predictable meals a day. Another part of me was a wild person; someone who lived on adrenaline for a decade and would do anything for more of it. Life as a normal person was boring and colorless and it depressed me.

I can’t put myself as a burden on anyone.

I was especially not going to do that to Amelia. She deserved a sane, safe man. Not me.

“Carson?”

“Mm?” I asked, turning to face Amelia. I must have looked surprised, because she giggled.

“Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I just wanted to ask how long you’re staying?”

“Oh,” I swallowed. “Just until the twenty-seventh.” I lifted my coffee, looking into the cup. I didn’t want to risk looking into her eyes again, getting sucked into those blue oceans in which the unwary might drown.

“Oh,” she said. She looked away. She sounded a bit upset. I blinked.

Does she want me to leave? I felt hurt and a sort of bittersweet pain. Somehow, having her walk away from me, hurtful as it would be, felt cruelly just. I would almost be pleased if she did it.

“When are you staying until?” I asked.

“The twenty-seventh.”

“Oh.”

I wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. Wasn’t sure what it meant. Surely the only reason she could be sorry about that was because I was going to be here for her visit?

“Brett?”

“Mm?” Brett looked up at my rather desperate-sounding plea.

“Did you say you wanted to show me photos of your project?”

“Oh!” Brett smiled. “Sure. I’ll bring them down. Mel hasn’t seen either.”

Amelia raised her eyebrows. “Is this the apartment block?”

“Yeah. That’s right.” Brett stood, pushing in his chair. “I’ll fetch my laptop.”

While Brett wandered up the steps, his footsteps creaking over our heads as he went into the bedroom and sought out his things, I studied the paintings and tried to pretend I was elsewhere.

Reese coughed. “Maybe we could go skating tomorrow?” she suggested politely.

I looked at Amelia, who laughed.

“I am not going to fall on my bottom again, Carson Grant.”

I grinned because I couldn’t help it. “Is that a bet?”

She gave me a funny look. “Maybe…”

I leaned back, my mind whirling as I tried, very hard, not to notice the moistness of her lips or the flushed skin at her soft throat. She was so beautiful! My loins were aching.

“Well, then!” Reese said brightly. “Maybe we’ll go bowling instead. The kids are just getting the hang of it…so it seems like a good idea for everyone.”

“Yes!” Amelia laughed triumphantly as Brett walked in.

“What?” he asked.

“I am so going to beat you,” Amelia said, grinning at her brother. He laughed.

“You probably will.”

We all laughed. Then Brett fired up the computer and we all admired his designs for a new apartment block to be built somewhere in Berkeley

I stood behind Brett and absolutely refused to let myself think about how close Amelia’s body was to mine, how I could, if I leaned fractionally left, bump against her. How her hair smelled. What I would do to just hold her in my arms right now.

“It’s a neat project,” I said admiringly.

Brett turned to grin at me.

“Thanks, man.”

Amelia’s giggle warmed my heart. I closed my eyes.

Carson Grant. Stop it. You left her so you wouldn’t hurt her. Why would you want to go through that again?

I had never expected to walk straight back into feeling this way about her, but it had happened. And now I had absolutely no idea what to do.

I hadn’t been for therapy but I knew enough about myself and about other army buddies of mine to know that there were lots of rough edges. Lots of hidden wounds. I wasn’t really ready for a relationship. At least, I didn’t think so. But here one was, tantalizing, right before me and tempting me like hell.

You hurt her once, Carson, I reminded myself. I wasn’t going to give myself a chance to hurt her twice.

“I should go and check my mail,” I said tightly. Amelia looked up at me, big blue eyes questioning, and I forced myself to break the eye-contact.

“Okay,” she said softly. “We’ll see you later.”

“Later,” I said, my throat tight again, and hurried up the stairs to the lonely refuge of my bedroom. Before I got myself in any deeper.