Tank waited in front of the bar because he needed to be sure Evy came either with a cab or wouldn’t drink. It was irrational how much he worried about her, but when a cab stopped in front of him and a now-familiar dark head got out, he breathed a sigh of relief. He’d drive her home, that much he’d already decided, and when she looked at him, her hazel eyes full of hurt, her knew it was the best decision ever.
He held out his hand to her, and she took it, entwining their fingers. “Come on, honeycomb, I’m gonna find us a table to sit,” he told her.
Her hand was small in his, and yet he liked the feel, regretting the need to let go when they sat and she took off her coat, reminding him again to not give her nicknames.
“Vodka with orange juice, and tequila,” she said at his questioning gaze and he realized she really wanted to talk. It made him curious as to what was weighing on her mind.
He got everything she asked for and bought himself a beer he had no intention of drinking, but at least it would keep her thinking he, too, was going to drink.
“What’s up, buttercup?” he asked as he sat at a worn table across from her.
“Stop with the nicknames,” she demanded like she’d done the day he’d picked her up from the airport.
“Fine. What’s on your mind, Ev?” He wondered if she realized that this was a nickname, too, but she just sighed.
“I’m not staying in the US.”
He almost laughed. “You just arrived. Why in the world would you want to leave so soon again? Especially if you were so excited to finally be here?”
She nodded, and he watched with worry how she downed the tequila before signaling for another, and then took a long swig from her mixed drink.
When a waitress came, Tank stopped. “Fries and a burger,” he ordered, knowing Evy wouldn’t take it if he told her it was for her.
The way she was drinking, though, he’d feel much better knowing she had some food in her stomach.
“My mother thinks I cannot do anything alone. Except for getting pregnant, because that I obviously did all by myself, not with a guy. And my asshole boss knows that being the US is all I ever wanted. He called this a promotion. However…” Her words broke off as tears started to roll down her cheeks and Tank was so out of his element, it wasn’t even funny. He patted her hand on the tabletop.
“There, lady, it can’t be so bad. I know it can’t be,” he assured her, but his voice shook. He didn’t handle tears well. Never had, and probably never would. Did she expect him to go and hug her? Or did she expect him to refill the drink and tell her to man up? Hell, what did you do with a crying woman?
The food arrived faster than he’d expected and he pushed the plate toward her, thinking that maybe feeding her would ease the heartache.
She reached for a fry, sobbing while she chewed it, and then another, and another until she was no longer sobbing, but just eating.
“Can I have a bite?” she asked and pointed at the burger.
“You’re welcome to it, I realize I’m not that hungry anymore,” he told her and she pulled the plate even closer, her face clearing.
“This is so good.”
Tank couldn’t help but mentally pat his shoulder and make a mental note. Tears vanished when there was food. It was a good thing to remember.
“They have the best food around town, even if you don’t exactly expect it from a bar. So now, what’s up?” He figured it was better talking about it while she was still chewing, and she lowered the burger thoughtfully.
“You know those stories where you have a Djinn, and it gives you what you wish for, but turns the wish for the worst? Like you wish for a million dollars and he’ll grant the wish, but the moment you get the money, your sister dies. Or you wish for a better position, and you get it, but your favorite co-worker is let go for you to get it. Know what I’m aiming at?”
“The wish turns sour and you couldn’t properly enjoy it,” he concluded and she nodded.
“Yes, like that.” She smiled at him before taking another bite from her burger, and he watched her. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes red-rimmed, but there was a silent strength in them, letting him know she’d be fine after this, after the break-down.
As if she’d needed a safe place to fall apart and she’d picked him to be that safe place.
“Okay, what does that have to do with you, with this?” Tank asked.
Before she could answer, a guy stepped to the table.
“Hey, I watched you from across the room and… you know, you seem to be in distress, and your friend here doesn’t exactly do a good job at making you look less sad, so I was wondering if you’d want to come to the bar with me and—”
“She’s here with me,” Tank snarled.
The guy turned to him and Tank did a quick once-over, dismissing him as no threat. He wasn’t even a soldier, and girls never picked normal guys over a uniformed one, right? Besides that, the newcomer was smaller than he and clearly halfway drunk already. Tank probably wouldn’t need more than one punch to knock the guy out.
“Your date? Then you’re doing an even worse job, mate.”
“Mate?” Tank shook his head. “I’m not your mate, and what I do with my dates is none of your business.”
He wondered briefly how often he could say ‘date’ before Evy would open her pretty mouth to say something contrary when the guy crossed his arms in front of his chest, trying to look bulkier.
“Actually it is when the lady’s crying.” God, who was that guy?
“Unless you can fuck me as well as my date here can, you better move,” Evy injected, munching the last of the burger.
Tank coughed at her words while anger colored the other man’s face.
“I can probably fuck you better,” he stated toward her and Tank watched with unbidden satisfaction how Evy wiped her lips, arching a brow in dismissal.
“Doubt it. You look too weak to even be able to pick me up, let alone hold me against the wall to eat me out.”
Tank’s jaw dropped. Evy hadn’t even blushed, while the second guy gaped at her before stuttering, “Fine then, be unhappy with him!”
And with that he was gone, leaving the two alone again.
“Evangeline Jackson?” Tank asked, wanting to make sure she hadn’t suddenly been exchanged for someone else, someone he’d never met before.
She giggled, pressing the back of her hand against her lips until the laughter bubbled out anyway, her eyes shining. “That was fun. Although I admit, it might be the alcohol talking.”
He glanced at her glass, and after the tequila she’d already emptied her vodka mix, too. “Well, you talking like that is hot.”
Her face fell and he wondered if he’d said something wrong.
“Just not proper for a woman. I mean, we technically shouldn’t be talking like that, or thinking about sex and admitting to it. Or liking it, really.” She shrugged and he placed his hand on her wrist.
“You know, everyone needs someone who can handle their darker side. I can be your someone. You can handle mine after all.” He winked, hoping she’d take it as light flirting when he was serious.
He didn’t mind a woman who was vocal, who voiced what she liked, and he couldn’t help but wish he could find out what exactly was in that hidden corner of her brain.
Maybe that was what drew him in so much; the way she seemed to have a side hidden away for no one to see.
When she didn’t answer, he lowered his eyes to the table, wishing there was something he could keep his fingers occupied with.
“Honestly, Tank, sometimes I’m not sure you’re even you,” she suddenly said and he met her eyes again.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You can be so… incredibly on point without being vulgar, and it’s… I don’t know. Unexpected, I guess.”
He smiled, feeling pleased. “Well, after Tessa and Jazz, I…” He couldn’t finish the sentence.
“You figured there had to be more to life than senseless screwing?” she suggested while another glass of vodka orange juice and a shot of tequila appeared on their table. The shot was gone within seconds, the other glass she left untouched though.
“Why would any woman want it with me?”
He heard the vulnerability in his voice and it angered him. That wasn’t him at all. “But anyway, we were talking about wishes and how they were turned,” he reminded her.
She leaned back in her chair and Tank couldn’t help but imagine they were somewhere else, like a living room on a sofa, talking in private, having their own corner of the world just for a few peaceful moments.
* * *
Evy stared up at the grimy ceiling, trying to keep her attention on the weird spots she couldn’t explain instead of on the soldier in front of her, confusing her more by the second.
The alcohol had gone to her head faster than she’d anticipated, yet she shouldn’t have been surprised since she’d skipped lunch… and maybe breakfast, too. Hilary had been out and therefore no one had been around to tell her what to do.
Tank seemed to have guessed it though. Maybe he thought she hadn’t noticed how he’d not eaten a single bite, but she had, and she was grateful he’d gotten her food in the first place.
“Come on, Ev, tell me,” he nudged, gently tapping his knee against hers under the table and she focused back on him and wished she could do this confession the way Tessa had told her she and Jazz did it: together with a glass of wine, cuddled up and holding onto each other no matter what.
“My biggest wish was to move here after Tessa didn’t return. I wanted to so bad because I thought everything would be better at the other side of the world. That I could…” She gritted her teeth, biting back the words on the tip of her tongue. She’d never before said them out loud and wasn’t sure she wanted to.
Tank leaned forward and took her hands around the plate that had yet to be cleared away. “Hey, it’s me, Evangeline. You can tell me whatever you want. I don’t judge. I’m an asshole, I’ve been judged all my life. I don’t do it because I know how it feels.”
And yet, he was anything but an asshole, wasn’t he?
She felt his thumbs caressing her knuckles and the warmth spreading from there gave her more courage than any alcohol could.
“I thought I could be happy. I should be. I have Leila and I’d give my life for her, but… being a mother wasn’t what I saw myself doing with my life. I wanted to have a career, be successful, have people recognize my name. Tessa had the dream of a big family, many children. She’s fine with being spit up on and wiping away baby vomit. I’d never give up Leila, not for all the money in the world, but…”
“You want more,” he whispered.
“I’m a horrible mother, aren’t I?” she asked, new tears threatening to spill over her cheeks and Tank surprised her by coming around the table to stand next to the bar chair she was seated on, taking her face in his hands.
“You are an incredible mother. Struggling with being a mom and sucking at being one are two different things, Evangeline. You need to understand that. Your daughter is such a happy child, so bright and cheery, which means you make her happy. It’s all you need to remember. And it’s human to want more when you’re alone, maybe at work, or when she’s asleep.” He paused, resting his forehead against hers as the first tears fell again.
“Don’t cry, Ev, please. I don’t handle your tears well,” he whispered and the sincerity in his voice, the way he’d phrased what he’d said made her draw him in and kiss him. She didn’t aim for sex, didn’t even aim for him to give her pleasure. All she wanted was to feel connected, feel whole for a moment, and it wasn’t the alcohol making her.
She felt so lonely, she needed a link to someone, and Tank offered. Not so much with words, but with the way he touched her, the way he’d caressed her cheeks just now.
He kissed her back, held her tight and tangled their tongues until they both had to come up for air.
“Don’t think you get out of telling me what else is going on, because we’re not at the point of your wish turned bad yet. Come on.” He took her hand, threw a fifty on the table, and then led her out of the bar.
“Where are we going?” she asked, stumbling after him, and he slowed down, her hand still in his tight grip.
She looked down at their joined hands, feeling as if he was holding her together by that simple touch.
“Getting a six-pack at the gas station, and then finding a place where we can park the truck so you can tell me what’s going on without a table between us. You know, I need to know when to start making out with you to keep the tears at bay.”
“Sex won’t stop me from crying if I really am,” she protested and he chuckled.
“It’s always worth a try.”
She laughed, couldn’t help herself as he helped her into his truck, the alcohol making the opening to the cab so much smaller than she remembered.
The stop at the gas station didn’t take long, and only a few minutes later they parked, the headlights of Tank’s truck shining over a baseball field.
“Most romantic spot ever,” she chuckled and he came around the truck, helping her outside. He put a sweater he’d grabbed from the backseat on the hood of the car and then swept her up into his arms to place her on the hood. Only afterward he joined. He opened a beer for her and although she didn’t like beer, she didn’t mind having one with him there.
“When I was seven I wanted nothing more than to play baseball. My mother thought it was useless, that I was better off doing other things, but I still came here. Always. I watched the games from this spot because she didn’t give me the money to get into the stands.”
“Were you ever able to play?” she asked, wondering where he was going with this story.
“I was, actually, and failed horribly. I couldn’t hit the ball, no matter what I tried, and ended up with a black and blue eye. I came home that day and my mother spanked me for having gone against her wishes, telling me that’s what I get from wishing.”
“That’s horrible,” Evy commented, looking at him while he started out at the field.
“Yes, and no. She told me football was the way to go because chicks dig football players. Turns out that was a sport I was good at, and it wasn’t what I’d always wanted, but it was what I was meant to do, because there I met the Army recruiter… and after that, Jazz, who turned into my brother, my family. I’m trying to say we don’t always get what we wish for, but exactly what we need. And you didn’t wish for Leila, but I think it was what you needed to reevaluate your life.”
“Why? I still want to make it big.”
He nudged her with his shoulder. “You did. You’re here.”
She exhaled slowly. “And this is where my wish turns bad. I get to see two months of how life could be, but I’ll have to go back—unless I score the Army Charity ball as event to organize.”
He did a double-take. “That was the condition for you to come here? It’s nearly impossible. I mean, the event is big and in planning and all that, and they expect you to get the organization? All by yourself? That was why you were at the base today.”
She nodded slowly. “They didn’t expect me to do it by myself. They think all I have to do is talk to Tessa and bam, I’m all in.”
“And Tessa turned you down? Is she being serious? So much for being your best friend, for always supporting you,” he fussed and Evy loved him just for being mad on her behalf. The thought was terrifying, so she focused back on the topic.
“No, it wasn’t quite like that. I didn’t exactly tell her I had to make it. I said I kinda wanted to do it, and she brought all the arguments I know in my head are right. I don’t want to ask her for this because I… I didn’t come here expecting my best friend to solve my issues for me. I came to prove after all I did do her when things with Jazz started, I’m still the best friend she needs and wants. Asking her for that…” She shook her head. “I’d feel like an utter failure in the best friend department.”
“You realize she wouldn’t see it that way, right? She loves having you back.” The way he said it, it sounded as if he knew more than she, and it seemed like Jazz had talked to him about what Tessa had said.
No wonder she didn’t know that because she was still set on avoiding her best friend until she solved the issue.
“I don’t want her to think I came for that and—”
“Hell, Ev, you can still make it up to her whenever you’re here forever and ever. Go and ask her.”
Evy hesitated for a long moment. “I either make it by myself or not at all, Tank. I cannot live on the charity of people. It’s hard enough knowing Hilary refuses to take payment for me being there.”
Tank sighed, his anger almost palpable for her. “It’s okay to accept help. You know that, right?”
Evy didn’t reply. Instead she lifted her bottle to her lips, thinking that Tank wouldn’t be able to understand… after all, no one ever did.
* * *
It was shortly after two in the night when Tank rang the doorbell to the Connors’ home. It took a while until a small light lit and Tessa appeared at the door, one of Jazz’s Army sweaters pulled over her body.
“Tank? Are you drunk?” she asked in utter disbelief.
“What is it?” Ela, Jazz’s mom, called from inside the house, but Tessa just turned to her.
“Go back to bed everyone, I got it,” she replied loudly, making it obvious she wouldn’t let him inside even if he maybe wanted to talk to Jazz.
He snickered. “Maybe you, little lady, aren’t the person I want to talk to?”
She shrugged. “I don’t care. You can come back at a decent hour and talk to whoever the hell you want,” she replied, her voice hushed.
“Lucky you, I want to talk to you and time’s running out.” He shouldered past her, ignoring her quiet protest just as his best friend entered the living room. There was a seating arrangement to his side, a TV and wide living room before a hallway across from him led to the kitchen and to the stairs to the upper floor.
“Tank?” Jazz asked. He wore just pajama pants and nothing else.
“I need to talk to Tessa. Time’s running out,” he stated and Jazz turned on a small living room light.
“Are you drunk?”
Maybe he should feel insulted that everyone was asking him that, but truth was, most of the time the guess wasn’t too far off.
“I’m sober, okay? Actually probably more sober than ever in my life. Can we sit?” Because he felt that if he sat, maybe he’d more easily find the words—or appear more serious about the issue.
Jazz sat and pulled Tessa instantly against him. She drew her knees up, kissing Jazz’s cheek before focusing back on Tank. He felt out of place as he faced them, knowing he could get into a shit ton of trouble for this.
“You said time’s running out, so how about actually starting to talk?” Tessa suggested and he nodded, staring at his hands.
“That Army Charity thing—”
Tessa instantly groaned. “I cannot believe Evy put you up to this. I’m not going to apologize for my opinion, okay?”
“Tess, please, listen. Evy asked you about the project because her asshole boss demands she either land that gig or go home again before March ends.”
“Lanestrong did that? He should’ve known it’s nearly impossible for her.”
Tank nodded. “It’s exactly why he sent her, she thinks. He wants to see her fail.”
Jazz cleared his throat. “Tank, you need to understand what’s behind all this. This is not a birthday party we’re talking about.”
Closing his eyes, Tank willed himself to stay calm instead of lashing out at them. It wouldn’t help his case any.
“I know it’s a shit ton to do, okay, but Tessa, if she does that she can stay. If not…” He let the sentence hang in the air.
“Did you ask Evy what I told her? Why I turned her down when she told me how much she’d love to do it?”
He hesitated a moment, considering a bluff, then he shook his head.
“Tank, she needs to find musicians, bakers, the location, people who arrange it, decorations, everything. Elaborate Events will not hand anything over. They’ll cancel everything. The location might not be a problem, but everything else? They’ll bad-mouth the new organizer without knowing her or the company. The ramifications of what this event means are humongous. Have you stopped one moment to consider this?”
He hadn’t. God, he’d not paused one moment after hearing Evy would have to leave again.
“Is it hard? No doubt, but not impossible.” In truth, he didn’t have any idea if it was possible.
Maybe he should have taken the time to think about all this.
“If you don’t help her, Tess, she will not move to the US. She will go back to London. You love your best friend. You were so ready to have her here.” He didn’t want to give up, not when he needed time to figure out how to convince Evy that she belonged to him—and that he wanted everything with her.
Every little bit. The tears, the nights, the happy end.
Tessa watched him, her beautiful face drawn tight as she considered all options. Tank watched as Jazz kissed her shoulder, whispering something he couldn’t hear. Tessa didn’t react to her fiancé but stood instead.
“Fine,” she stated and then turned to him. “But now, please go.”
She walked out of the room without telling him goodbye and Tank couldn’t help but feel horrible. It seemed there was no right way to do this.
“I hope you’re happy now, Thomas. You didn’t think that through one bit, did you? You just saw Evy leaving and panicked, didn’t you? Or were you thinking you’d be the hero in this?”
Jazz shook his head and Tank licked his lips.
“She’ll be pissed hearing I told Tessa about what’s going on. She thinks she can do it alone, and the longer she just putters around, the harder it’ll be. Tessa is her best friend. Besides, Jazz, you’d have done anything to keep Tess here.”
He knew he was begging, hoping his best friend would understand, but Jazz just snorted. “Difference is I wouldn’t have put her best friend in a position like that.”
“‘Position like that?’ To help a person she claims is family?”
Jazz shook his head with a bitter laugh. “You did not think that through. If this event fails, Tessa’s radio station might lose all the reputation they built up so far because Tessa insisted on picking Evangeline. Everything Tessa lives for would be down the drain. But hey, at least your girl would be happy, huh?”
Tank closed his eyes, trying for words, but before he could say them, Jazz had closed the door in his face.
He made his way back to his truck, sitting in the dark for a long moment.
Jazz was right—to an extent.
It probably was what made him feel the worst. He’d not considered what it meant, had not asked Evy or Tessa for the implications. Evangeline had nothing to lose, knew exactly what a project like this would entail, and she’d not asked Tessa directly.
Then again, that wasn’t the truth, either. Evy had thought she needed to make it alone. She probably hadn’t paused to think what it could mean for Tessa, or maybe Evy had and then had pushed the thought far in the back of her mind, telling herself she could always make it work without ruining Tessa’s reputation—or disappointing the Army.
God, besides Evy, who’d be pissed at him, now Tessa was angry, and so was Jazz, which Tank could absolutely understand.
“Good job, guy. Good job,” he muttered when the door suddenly opened and Tessa came out, slipping into the seat next to him.
“She cannot do it alone. Hilary needs to watch Leila for most of it because it’s a long, tough task.”
“She’s watching Johnny a lot of times,” Tank pointed out and Tessa’s expression darkened.
“Yes, which she gets paid for by the station, remember?”
Nope, he’d forgotten that and mentally told himself to just shut up because he could not say the right thing.
“Anyway,” Tessa stated, clearly taking his silence as statement of him staying quiet now, “there might be frilly pink stuff, and glitter, and fairy lights, and a shit ton of girly things, and you will touch each and every one of them, because you are going to bust your ass to make this possible. The moment you’re done with wiping your greasy hands, you change into normal clothes and join Evy in whatever she’s doing. You make sure all soldiers who have a free hand come and help. If this fails because of what you asked me to do, because of your late-night visit and guilt-tripping, I never want to see you again. Ever. We’ll do what we can, but if this fails…” She shook her head.
“Tess,” he said softly, hearing the tears in her voice.
“Don’t ‘Tess’ me,” she replied.
“Tell them it was my idea, that I brought her in. I don’t have anything to lose,” he whispered, his hand on her arm to keep her from just leaving the car.
She pressed her lips together and he watched her profile before she shook her head. “No. Evy is my friend and I want her to stay, you’re right about that, but this is not easy. You better plan on always being around,” she just stated, then she was out of the car and he a little more hopeful—although he still felt bad.
But Tessa could count on him being around whenever and wherever he was needed, and if everything worked the way he hoped it, there’d be others, too, and maybe, just maybe, there would even be a little bit of fun.