Chapter 24

Danny watched Tom kill Carmina again. She wasn’t terrible, but she was definitely not at their level. If Danny was playing her he’d be taking it easy on her. But she’d know and probably get pissed. She didn’t seem to mind that Tom was dominating her in the game. But it was driving Danny crazy every time Tom knifed her game character or shot her from a sniper’s perch. Danny had to wonder how she could play the game. After all, she’d lived it, hadn’t she? And she had the scars to prove it.

When he saw her getting ready to wander into an ambush, he couldn’t take it anymore. “Oh, hell, no,” he said. He got up and jumped over the back of the couch, coming up behind her. He reached over her shoulders and covered her hands on the controller. “Like this,” he said. He manipulated her fingers on the controller, dodging Tom’s character and shooting several others.

“Not fair!” Tom cried out, leaning forward in his lucky chair. “You guys are ganging up on me.”

Carmina laughed and leaned back against Danny’s shoulder. He crouched behind her, his arms wrapped around her as he played out the match, while she laughed as he moved her hands for her. He tried to concentrate on running and jumping and shooting in the game and not on the way she smelled—like a sweet, citrusy shampoo—or how soft her hair was against his cheek and how her laugh made him want to smile. Because those were stupid things that were going to lead to a messy situation, and Danny didn’t like messy situations. But he smiled anyway, because he did like her laughter, hers and Tom’s. He felt…relaxed. When was the last time he could say that?

“We won!” Carmina exclaimed when the match ended, turning her head to look up at him.

“Well, we beat Tom anyway,” Danny said, smiling down at her.

“That’s winning,” she said with a happy gleam in her eye.

“I think there’s a conspiracy going on here,” Tom complained. “Who decided it was gang-up-on-Tom day?” He pouted, but he winked at Carmina.

“You had an unfair advantage,” Danny said. Reluctantly, he stood up, letting go of Carmina. He saw the gleam in her eye fade a little as she looked away self-consciously. “You were a total nerd in college and didn’t have anything better to do than play videogames. I bet she had a life.”

“I didn’t go to college,” she said, setting the controller down on the table in front of her. “I went into the Army.”

“That’s a lot harder than college,” Tom told her. “So you were defending our country and risking your life for freedom while I was skipping Literature 101 to play Call of Duty. Is that what you’re saying?”

“Yep,” she said.

“Why’d you go into the Army?” Danny asked, walking around the couch to sit down again.

“I couldn’t afford college,” she said with a shrug. “It was a paycheck and job training. I could go to college after on the GI Bill. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“Would you do things differently if you could go back?” Danny asked. He belatedly realized this probably wasn’t a good topic to bring up on Christmas Eve. “You know what? Forget I asked. Let’s play.” He reached for the controller, but Carmina stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“No, it’s okay,” she said. “I don’t mind talking about it.” She shrugged again, grabbed her water, and took a sip. “It happened. I try not to what if. All my therapists said that will make you crazy. It’s better to say ‘This was my choice and this happened and now I’m going to do this.’ ” She glanced over at him with a wry smile. “Easier said than done, but it’s a work in progress.”

“I hear that,” Danny said in heartfelt agreement. “The last part, I mean. Easier said than done.” He looked away, thinking about his own issues with the past that he was having so damn much trouble getting past. “How do you play this game?” he said, gesturing at the TV. “Doesn’t it bring back memories, or flashbacks?” To his surprise, she laughed.

“Trust me, when I was active duty I was not doing that. Running and jumping from rooftops, shooting snipers, backstreet hand-to-hand combat. I know there were guys who were, but I wasn’t one of them.”

“Okay,” Danny said. “The game isn’t realistic, but still. Doesn’t it bother you? Especially after you were wounded in combat.”

“There was no combat,” she said flatly. “There was a bomb in the road. We ran over it with our truck. Or so I’m told.” She tucked her hair behind her ear and reached for her water again. “I don’t remember anything.”

“Nothing?” Tom asked in surprise.

“Nope,” she said. “My last memory is two days before the ambush. And it’s pretty sketchy. I lost about six weeks to the head injury. And I don’t remember one thing from two days before the accident to when I woke up in the hospital almost ten days later.”

“So you don’t remember what happened,” Tom said. There was a look on his face that told Danny Tom knew something he didn’t, something that made her missing memory very significant.

“No.” She shook her head, not looking at either one of them. “From what Sam says, I should be glad I don’t.” She got up and wandered over to a shelf that held some of Danny’s old football trophies and memorabilia, from school and his professional career. She turned suddenly and faced Tom. “If you’re asking do I remember what happened to Richie…No. I don’t remember anything. The last time I saw him, or talked to him, or what we said.”

“Carmina,” Tom said, but then he just stopped as if he didn’t know what else to say.

Whoa. Danny didn’t know who this Richie was, but he was guessing he was somebody she had been involved with. “Did Richie die in the ambush?” he asked. If she wanted to talk, then he’d get her to talk.

“Yes.” She took a couple of steps over to a straight-backed chair near the window and sat down, sort of slumping there. “And I don’t remember it.” She wiped her cheek with the palm of one hand and he realized she was crying. His stomach muscles clenched. He hadn’t meant to do that to her.

“I’m sorry,” he said, standing up. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“That’s okay.” She sniffed and gave him a little smile. “Because of the injury, I’m always close. I don’t handle emotions well. I can’t hide them, or”—she paused and made a face, as if searching for a word—“control them? Maybe.” She shook her head. “Ugh. Sorry. Too much emotion makes me stupid.”

“Too much emotion makes anybody stupid,” Danny said. “I ought to know. I’m the king of mandatory anger-management classes.” Carmina gave a watery laugh as Danny walked over and grabbed a box of tissues for her. She pulled one out and blew her nose.

“Thanks.” She took a deep breath. “I sometimes wake up and forget that he’s dead,” she admitted. “Then I remember and it’s like finding out all over again.” She shook her head. “If I could remember it…I didn’t get to say goodbye.”

“Nobody does,” Tom told her gently. “Not really.” Just then, the timer went off in the kitchen. “I’ve got to go get that,” he said, frowning as he looked between Danny and Carmina.

“I got this,” Danny said. “Go on. You burn my dinner, I’m going to lose it, man.”

Carmina laughed out loud. “Me, too. Smells too good to waste.” She waved him away. “I’m okay. Just had a lot this week.” She blew some hair out of her face and then tucked it behind her ear again. Danny loved her thick, wavy, brown hair. It was a little out of control, but not too much. Like Carmina.

“I guess we haven’t helped much with that,” Danny said. “Sorry.” He really meant the apology.

“Oh, no,” Carmina said. “You’ve both been great. The best part of the week.” She winced. “That didn’t come out right.” Tom laughed as he got up and headed to the kitchen.

“Oh, I think it came out just right,” Tom said.

Tom watched Danny and Carmina as they ate the dinner he’d made. He liked to cook. His mom had taught him young that if he wanted to eat so much, he needed to learn to make his own meals. They were having a nice pork roast, with roasted potatoes and green beans in a honey-pecan sauce.

“Tom, this is so good,” Carmina said again. She hummed in satisfaction as she took another bite of the pork, and it made Tom happy. Maybe it was stupid, but he liked to take care of the people he cared for, and cooking was part of that.

“I have to work out so hard because of his cooking,” Danny said. “Man cooks better than my mama.” He pointed his fork at Carmina. “Don’t ever tell her I said that.”

“When am I going to meet your mom?” Carmina asked with a laugh. “Your secret is safe with me.” She took another bite and hummed again, and Tom could see Danny smiling as he put a forkful of potatoes in his mouth.

Danny had been smiling a lot tonight. He was happy and more relaxed than Tom could ever remember seeing him, which was weird. He’d been on edge for days about the three of them spending the day together, telling Tom repeatedly that he would go somewhere else so Tom and Carmina could be alone for the holiday. But Tom wanted Danny here as much as he wanted Carmina. Tom was beginning to realize that his feelings for Danny went way beyond friendship. Which was all kinds of fucked-up, because Danny didn’t feel the same way. But it was what it was and Tom would make the best of what he had. And the thought of Danny alone on Christmas broke his heart. What had changed Danny’s attitude? It had to be Carmina. She had the same effect on Danny she had on Tom. Everything suddenly seemed right with the world when she was around.

“You’re quiet,” Carmina said to him suspiciously. “What’s going on?”

“I’m just enjoying how much you two are enjoying the dinner I cooked,” Tom told her honestly. “There’s satisfaction in knowing that the people you cooked for appreciate your efforts.”

“I appreciate your efforts,” Danny said. “If that’s the price of a meal like this, then I appreciate it hard.” Carmina laughed, and when Danny looked at her and smiled, Tom knew. Danny was falling for her, too. Then why had he backed off? Because of Tom? He didn’t need to. There wasn’t another guy on the planet that Tom would share her with, but somehow having Danny feel the same way about her seemed natural. They’d been inseparable for months. Why should bringing Carmina into it change things? It shouldn’t. He resolved right then that he wasn’t going to let Danny play the martyr and walk away from a great woman like Carmina. And if that meant Tom had to back off of Danny, or maybe press him a little harder, then he’d do it. Tom knew that sometimes a man had to play dirty when he was determined to win.