Not Another Soldier (8 page)

“Christ, thanks, Nick,” I whisper when a chill seeps
into me.

I don’t even notice I’m shaking until he eases me into
the side of him and escorts me to the kitchen. Shoving the mess aside with his
foot, he practically puts me on a bar stool and sets up the coffee pot.

“We’d better call the police,” he states.

“Why? What am I going to say? Someone broke in and
made a mess?”

“It doesn’t matter, babe. You still need to report it.
Maybe they can get some fingerprints.”

“Fine.”

To be honest it’s bad enough I’ve had someone in here,
trashing my stuff, but the idea of the cops pawing through it too makes my
stomach twist. He’s right though. He pulls his cell out of his pocket and I
shake my head as I reach for the house phone.

It’s so very easy to let Nick do everything. He has
that kind of take charge manner that makes you feel all small and protected. As
much as I like it, I need to assert some kind of independence again. After all,
I’m supposed to be proving to myself I can do it all on my own. I let Rob
railroad me once. I’m not going to let that happen again.

I finally get through to a dispatcher and they promise
to have someone over shortly. Now I just have to wait, not touch anything and
stare at the mess someone has made of my first decent home.

But actually it’s a good thing because it seems to
create some kind of anger in me. I’d rather be angry than feeling sorry for
myself. How dare someone come in and trash my home? I was just getting on my
feet and now this? Nick hands me a coffee and I clutch my hand tightly around
it, making my knuckles white, as he leans across the breakfast bar opposite me.

“I don’t get it, Nick. Why?”

I hear his long inhale and wait for what he has to
say. I know it’s not going to be good by the furrow in his brow, as if he’s
deciding whether to protect me from his thoughts or not.

“It’s pretty strange.” He glances around. “If they
didn’t want valuables—and not trying to be rude, but this isn’t exactly the
wealthiest of buildings—then I think they were looking for something.”

They? I don’t even know who
they
are. That’s
the worst thing. Up against some unknown entity.  “But what could they be
looking for? We’ve already established I don’t have anything of value and it’s
not like I’m a… a secret agent or something. I’m a nurse for Godsakes. Hardly
anyone important.”

He fixes his gaze on me. “Now that’s not true,
sweetheart.”

I wave my hand, dismissing his words. Not that they
don’t strike me but I can’t focus on stuff like that right now. I want to think
about
why
he said it. To wonder if he means I’m important to him or to
the nursing world or what, but for now I need to figure out why the hell
someone would turn my apartment upside down.

“Seriously, though. What could I have? I hardly look
like the type to have government secrets or millions stashed away.”

“Let’s just wait and see what the cops say. Perhaps
they’ll find some fingerprints and be able to bring someone in.”

“I hope so. It makes me nervous to think of someone
out there, watching me. What if I’d come home earlier and interrupted them?”

His gaze darkens and he straightens. “Let’s not think
about that.”

“Well, maybe I
should
think about it. Maybe I
should get a gun or something.”

He groans as if the idea of me having a gun pains him.

“What? I can shoot. Sort of.”

“Yeah, right. Sienna, you’re all city girl. The idea
of you running around with a gun… well, it scares the hell out of me.”

“But me running unarmed into someone in my apartment
doesn’t?”

Nick pinches the bridge of his nose and eyes me. “All
of it scares me. The thought of something happening to you probably scares me
more than anything.”

The tone of his voice is deep and intense. Actually
the way he says it sends a tremor to my toes. Sometimes I wish Nick wasn’t so
upfront and honest. He makes me confront things that I really don’t even want
to think about.

Like the fact that maybe he cares for me way more than
he should. And maybe I care for him more than is good for me. It’s going to
make resisting him much harder than I realized.

I fight the urge to groan too. As if it isn’t hard
enough already.

Nick

We
walk down to the coffee place on the corner when the cops turn up. I had to get
Sienna out of there. It’s bad enough all her stuff’s been trashed but she
doesn’t need to see the forensics team pawing through it. I’m jumpy. My body is
tense and every shadow screams danger to me. I long to wrap an arm around her
shoulders but I don’t know if she’ll let me.

Besides I’m trying not to let on how terrified I am
for her. Something is off. Her nearly being attacked, almost ending up in jail
and now this… I don’t like it and my instincts are telling me there’s something
more than straight bad luck behind it. The possibility that it’s linked to
Rob’s illegal activities plays in the back of my mind, but I don’t want to say
anything yet. She’s scared enough as it is, in spite of the brave front she’s
putting on.

I’m just hoping the cops will figure out who it was
and we can put it all behind us. And Sienna and I can move on. I glance at her
cute profile and put a hand to her back as I usher her into the coffee shop.
Without a word, she heads for the leather couches at the back and sinks onto
one while I get our drinks. I know what she likes so I order her a vanilla
latte. Hell, I know a lot more about Sienna than anyone in my life really.
Those six months of practically living in each other’s pockets taught me a lot
about her.

She wraps her arms around herself. I guess I didn’t
realize quite how hard it would be to let Rob go though. I assumed she’d just
be glad to be rid of him. I kinda thought she’d miraculously return to the girl
she was. Well, it’s not like I don’t like a challenge. When I returned from
Afghanistan, they weren’t sure I was going to walk and I did that. I conquered
my injury.

I can’t resist a smug grin. I’ll conquer Sienna too.

Sienna smiles gratefully when I hand her the coffee
and she cups her hands around it. I sit next to her, not too close, and I can
see the door from where I am. At the moment, everyone looks suspicious to me.
The guy in the corner on his laptop. The two men in suits by the door. Even the
young girl on her phone. I regret not having been there for her. It eats at me,
reminds me of feeling powerless
—
like when soldiers were falling about me, riddled with
bullets. For the briefest moment I can smell the sweat, hear the gunfire and screams
—
even
taste the sand.  Sienna presses a hand gently to my arm, drawing my
attention to her.

“You don’t have to look like you want to kill
everyone, you know?”

“Sorry,” I say with a bashful grin. “I’m just on
edge.”

“Yeah, me too.” She sips her coffee and sighs. “Do you
think it will take long?”

“What? The forensics?”

“Yeah.”

“I have no idea. Are you tired?”

“No…” On cue, she yawns and we both laugh. “I
shouldn’t be. I slept all day after…” Her cheeks turn crimson. “After my night
shift. I’d still be at work right now if it hadn’t been for all this.”

The temptation to mention what really exhausted her is
unbearable, but as much as I want to push things forward—yeah I think I’m going
to have to push Sienna when it comes to us—she doesn’t need it right now.

“You’ve had a lot of shocks today. I’m not surprised
you’re tired.” I lounge back on the couch in an attempt to look a little more
relaxed, though I don’t feel it, and hope she will follow suit. From the moment
I got her call from the station, I’ve been wound tight. I don’t think she’s
figured out quite how scared for her I was. I must have driven like a maniac to
get her. “You’re not working tomorrow, right?”

She shakes her head. “No, I’ve got two days off
anyway.”

“What? You’ve actually got a Sunday off?”

“I know, right?”

Really it’s amazing she’s got time off at all.
Hospitals are always understaffed but I’m convinced Sienna puts in way more
hours than anyone. She keeps going on about wanting to be strong and
independent, but she doesn’t get that I already see strength in her. The woman
goes to work smiling, deals with all sorts of crap, works all hours for no
thanks, and still comes out with a smile. I don’t suppose she’ll ever
understand how much I admire her for it. In this day and age, I don’t know,
sometimes it feels like people want a quick buck and don’t want to work for it.
It’s one of the reasons she’ll be an incredible mother. She has that nurturing
thing down to an art.

I shake away the thoughts. I need to learn to
concentrate on the task at hand. For some reason, my mind keeps leaping like
five years ahead and picturing her pregnant with my child. And as much as I
want that, I would rather be imagining her naked.

Shit.

I hardly know if either is going to be possible and
now I’m imagining both. I’m planning out our whole future and she’s just
sitting there innocently drinking her coffee. I admire her lips as they form an
‘o’ to blow on her coffee. Then I imagine them pouty, waiting for my kiss.
She’s almost naked. Wearing a little slip of panties. Let’s make them red. I’ve
already taken her hair down and it’s around her shoulders, brushing the tops of
her breasts. And then she’s leaning forward and her lips are still puckered and
she’s going to…

I groan and she darts a puzzled look at me. Fuck, I
must have groaned aloud. So much for keeping my mind on track. I fidget,
grateful I’m still wearing sweatpants and not jeans.

“How was your shift last night anyway?” I ask lamely.
I need something to distract myself from all the hot imaginings I’m having and
she needs to forget about her trashed apartment.

“Not great, to be honest.”

God, now I feel like an asshole.

“One of our patients crashed. He was pretty old but we
thought he was going to be okay. It wasn’t… pleasant.” She stares at her
coffee. “I don’t think I’ve seen one like that in a while actually.”

“Shit, I’m sorry, Sienna.”

Sienna offers me a small smile. “Yeah, I haven’t had
the best luck today, have I?”

I put a hand to her shoulder and give it a quick
squeeze. Somehow even that turns me on, the feel of her delicate form under my
palm. Probably because I remember what it was like when she had nothing on.

“I haven’t really helped, have I?” I’m feeling so
guilty right now. She’s been through more than anyone should have to cope with
in their lifetime all in one day and I stormed off like a sulking little boy.
Possibly when she needed help most.

“I don’t blame you for being pissed at me, Nick. I was
pretty rude. You’ve done a lot for me and I’ll always be grateful for your
friendship.”

Urgh, there it is. Friendship. That fateful word.
Friend-zoned, as they say. But I still feel like a fucking jerk for my behavior
earlier so I smile and pretend the word doesn’t jab me like a damned knife.
I’ve been her friend for so long, and I don’t ever intend for that to change,
but it’s been painful, holding back, letting her make her mistakes with Rob and
keeping my mouth shut.

“I’ll always be here for you, short stuff. No matter
what.”

She leans back, hands still clutching the coffee and
closes her eyes with a sigh. “What did I ever do to deserve you, Nick?”

I shake my head and study the arch of her neck. I
can’t help think the same about her. She’s so amazing and she just doesn’t see
it. And as much as it’s been so difficult keeping my hands off her all these
years, I can’t regret those years spent waiting. Because I have a shot now.

***

Sienna

It’s almost three am by the time the police pack up.
They’ve dusted for prints and taken mine. I’m still angry but I’m tired now, in
spite of having slept through the day and the fact I’d still be at work
normally. The fatigue has taken the edge off my resentment.

I study the mess and shake my head. Where do I even
start?

“Leave it for now,” Nick says, coming up behind me
from the kitchen.

“I don’t know if I can. I don’t really want to wake up
to this.”

“It’s late. You won’t get much done.” He bends to pick
up some fragments of vase and I catch myself admiring the way his jogging pants
pull tight over his ass. I snap my gaze away as he comes back to standing.

“We can get everything cleared up in the morning.”

We? “No, Nick, you’ve done enough. Anyway, it
is
morning.”

“You need some rest and I’m not leaving you to sort
this mess on your own. Besides, I wouldn’t leave you anyway.”

I prop my hands on my hips and face him head on. “What
do you mean?”

“Sweetheart, you’ve just had your place broken into,
your door is still damaged and who knows if they found what they wanted. I’m
not leaving you alone.”

“Nick, I’m a big girl. I can do this on my own.” I
fight the need to stomp my foot. This domineering act is getting old quickly.
I’m not the most street-wise of people but I’m starting to get fed up with
being babied.

“Fine, then at least go stay in a hotel for the rest
of the night. Until we get new locks put on. New, extra-strong locks.”

“Nick, we are not a ‘we.’” I motion between us. “I
will sort some locks tomorrow and I am not staying in a hotel. I am not being
chased out of my home!”

His lips twitch as if he’s struggling to hide his
amusement. “Guess I’m staying here then.”

“No!”

Nick chuckles. “Hotel then?”

“No!”

“Well, I’m not going anywhere, babe, so either you try
to kick me out or get used to the idea that I ain’t leaving.”

I thrust my chin out as he crosses both arms across
his chest. I eye that torso and consider my options. There’s no way I have any
hope of ejecting him by force.

“Argh, fine.” I throw my hands up. “Though I don’t
know where you’re going to sleep.”

He glances behind us toward the bedroom. The door is
still ajar and my bed, with its crumpled sheets, is visible. My heart skips
slightly at the idea of sharing a bed with him.

I see him shake his head marginally. Shit, is he
thinking what I’m thinking?

“I’ll sleep on the couch,” he announces and, as if
marking his territory, he steps through the double doors and sits. “I can see
the door from here.”

With a scowl, hands still on my hips, I take a moment
to study him. Damn if he doesn’t look so very right sitting in my apartment, as
if he owns the place. Though my couch is a little small for a man of his size.
“You won’t fit on there.”

“I’ll do fine. Stop fretting and get ready for bed.”

I huff—a long slow one. “Fine,” I mutter as I turn
away, snatch a glass from the kitchen and rinse it in the sink before filling
it. “Do you want to use the bathroom before me?” I call out. “You can… use my
toothbrush if you want.” I pause because it seems too intimate. But I realize
he is doing me a favor really. I need to at least try to be a little pleasant
even if I don’t want him to stay.

“Thanks.”

I wait for him to go past me and hear the bathroom
door shutting. Blowing out a breath, I dash into my room to grab my PJs so I
can dive past him once he’s finished. I tap my foot as I listen to the water
run and try not to picture him washing up. The strange urge to see him shaving
strikes me. What would it be like to sit in the bathroom and chat with him as
he shaves? It’s a bizarrely domestic picture that I really don’t need.

His gaze snaps to mine when he opens the door, as if
surprised to see me. “It’s all yours,” he says as he holds the door open.

I’m forced to press past him and I keep my gaze
downward. My hands shake slightly as I wash, and then brush my teeth. The image
of his hair damp and spiky is going to haunt my dreams tonight. And now he’s
going to sleep on the couch. Only a door and a few short steps will separate
us. I put my toothbrush back in the plastic tumbler and grip the edge of the
sink as I study myself.

This is too much. All of it. Rings circle my eyes
though I shouldn’t be tired, not from the sleep I had during the day. It’s been
brought on by the strain. Too many things have happened in one day. Attacked,
almost arrested, robbed.

Oh, yeah, don’t forget sleeping with your best friend.

I scrape my hands through my hair and grimace at my
reflection. I clearly have no common sense. Why would I risk the only
honest-to-goodness friendship I have by sleeping with Nick? But it’s clear I’m
not exactly smart when it comes to men. Otherwise, I’d have realized what Rob
was up to.

With the break in, I’d almost forgotten the things
that had come to light about him. How can you be married to someone for so long
and not realize they’re drug dealing? When did he get into it? And did he use?

I don’t think so and neither does Nick. Rob’s moods
weren’t great but that was usually due to alcohol. I’m sure the military would
have found out if he had. And that’s the thing about Rob. In spite of
everything, he loved being a soldier. I’m not sure if it was the hero worship
that came with it or the adrenaline-filled moments, but he appeared to thrive
on it. The few times I spoke to him when he was in Afghanistan were the few
times he seemed like the man I’d first met. The one who was outgoing,
outrageous, exciting…