Last Chance Christmas (Last Chance #5)(35)
Author: Hope Ramsay

“I like a lot,” she said against his shirt.

He tilted her head up and kissed her briefly. Then he pulled back. “Momma has the girls for the day. I’m free until this afternoon. I have to be home early because of Haley’s Christmas play. But I’ve got a few hours. We can sit here and drink tea and talk. You can tell me how you’re hurting. We can swap war stories. There isn’t anything you’re feeling right now that would scare me away. Or we could not talk, if that’s what you want.”

She looked up at him and pressed her fingers against his lips. “I want more than talk. You can start by taking off the weapon and the vest, and then we can see where it goes from there.”

She didn’t have to ask him twice.

Chapter 18

Lizzy had taken her phone into the bathroom, which meant she was talking to David. Or maybe Cassie, but Haley was pretty sure it was David.

Which was why Haley leaned up against the door and listened. Lizzy was talking in a low voice, but Haley heard enough to know that her big sister was planning to meet someone out at Granddaddy’s golf course.

Haley waited until the phone call was almost over before she scooted into the living room, where Granddaddy was watching the Atlanta Falcons football game. Granny was in the kitchen fixing the dumb ol’ shepherd costume that Haley was going to have to wear for the play at church later. The hood on the costume was too big and flopped down into Haley’s eyes.

Haley sure hoped Granny could fix that because it was bad enough that the stupid costume itched. And she was going to be so embarrassed when Maryanne messed up her lines.

She pretended to watch the football game as Lizzy came into the room, pulling on her big red sweater.

“Hey Granny,” Lizzy called as she hurried into the kitchen. “Is it okay if I go over to Cassie’s house for a little while? Her mother is acting all weird again.”

Granny looked up from the sewing machine. She was wearing a pair of little half-glasses that made her look kind of funny. “You know, Lizzy, it’s not right to talk about your elders like that.”

Lizzy rolled her eyes. “C’mon, Granny, you know as well as I do that Mrs. Nelson is goofy. And Cassie says she gets all weird and sad this time of year.”

Granny nodded. “It’s depression, honey, not goofiness. And she’s on medication for it.”

“I’m sorry, Granny. But Cassie calls her goofy all the time.”

“Well, I guess it’s not easy having a mother like that. You need to be back home no later than four o’clock, you hear? Haley’s play is at five-thirty.”

“Do I have to?”

Granny gave Lizzy one of those grown-up looks. “Yes, you do. She’s your sister.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Lizzy said.

Haley didn’t really blame Lizzy. The Christmas play was going to be lame.

But at the same time, Lizzy not wanting to be there made Haley feel kind of sad and lonely. She’d been feeling that way all day, ever since this morning, when the Sorrowful Angel had left the house with Daddy. She hadn’t come back. Neither had Daddy, even though he didn’t really have to work on Sundays.

Sometimes he came home and watched football with Granddaddy. Haley liked those Sundays. She would sometimes sit on his lap and watch with him. But not today.

Daddy was working today. And Lizzy was going to hang out with Cassie. Maryanne was practicing for the play. And the angel was missing suddenly. Haley felt a little bit hollow, like one of those chocolate Santa Clauses that she always got in her stocking.

Thinking about Santa only made her feel worse. She really was having her doubts.

“All right, honey, you can go to Cassie’s, but you need to be back on time. Is that clear?”

“Absolutely. I promise.” Lizzy turned on her heel and headed for the door. Haley followed her out onto the porch. It had gotten cold outside. Maybe cold enough to snow.

Although right now the sun was shining.

“You’re not going to Cassie’s, are you?” Haley said.

“Shut up, Haley. You’re such a brat sometimes.”

“You’re going to Granddaddy’s golf course. I heard you tell someone that the door to the Ark is always open.”

“You remember what I said the other day about Granny’s teacup?” Lizzy hissed.

“Yeah.” Haley realized right then that maybe she needed to apologize to Granny about the teacup, if for no other reason than Lizzy would stop bringing it up.

“Well, you keep your mouth shut, you hear?”

“Okay, Lizzy, but you better not be late.”

“I won’t. But I don’t get what the big deal is. I mean, you’re just a shepherd. When I was in third grade, I got to be the angel.”

And with that, Lizzy hurried down the porch steps and up the street toward their house. Lizzy’s bike was in the yard, but Lizzy went inside first.

Haley stayed on the porch and watched. A few minutes later, Lizzy came back out. She had her backpack and the extra quilt from the foot of her bed. She stuffed the quilt into the basket on her bike, and then she headed off in the opposite direction from Cassie’s house.

Lark rested her head on Stone’s chest, listening to his heartbeat. They lay tangled in the sheets, and a wedge of afternoon light came through the windows. Lark watched the dust motes dance on the air while she listened to the even rhythm of Stone’s breathing.

She raised her head and studied him: the resolute angle of his jaw, the rugged lines at the corner of his eyes, the firm arch of his brow, the crooked place where his nose had been broken.

He was a study in peaceful repose. A tiny, satisfied smile curled the corner of his mouth.

That little upward spiral made her heart ache. She had told him everything about Misurata and Jeb. He had listened to every horrible thing she had to say. He’d taken it all. And he was still lying there sated and smiling in his sleep.

Man. She’d let her emotions run away with her, hadn’t she?

He cracked an eye. The little curl at the corner of his mouth deepened as consciousness returned. “Hey,” he whispered and ran his hand through her hair.

In the past, this was the moment when she would deliver the standard speech—the one about how things were going too far too fast. But she didn’t want to do that this time. She wanted to say something else altogether.

But he wasn’t ready to hear it.

He wasn’t ready to love her. Not really. He still thought about his wife. He still loved her. And after what she’d heard about Sharon, Lark knew she couldn’t compete. Sharon had sounded like a cross between a saint and an angel.

His expression sobered. “Darlin’, are you having regrets? Because that would be funny, given what you said the other night about my being old-fashioned.”

She plastered a smile on her face. “No regrets,” she said. And really she didn’t have regrets. Not for sleeping with him, anyway. And maybe not even for falling in love with him. But she would definitely regret leaving him.

He looked at his watch, which rode military-style on the inside of his left wrist. “It’s getting late. I have to get home. Haley’s play at the church starts pretty early because they’re just little kids.”

She nodded. This was good. She didn’t have to give any speeches. He would do it for her. He would remind her of the things she wasn’t a part of.

“Are you really okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine. I just have a lot on my mind, you know. I’m supposed to be on a plane to Africa day after tomorrow. I hope Nita convinces your father to let me lay Pop to rest as quickly as possible. I need to get back to DC and pack and get ready. This was…” Her words faltered. She wanted to say it had been fun. “Fun” would be the right word for a casual encounter. But this had been earth shattering.

“You think you’re ready to go back into the field?” he asked, poking her right in her most vulnerable place.

She met his gaze. “Shooting photographs is what I do. It’s what I am—a mirror on the world. I’ll be fine. I just need to get back to work. This was… fun.” She forced the word out. It turned to ashes in her mouth.

He sat up, his face unreadable. But the fire in his eyes slowly flickered out. He didn’t say anything. He took her little adult speech stoically.

They had both gone into this with their eyes open.

He got out of bed and started collecting pieces of his discarded uniform. He headed into the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

A minute later, the shower started up.

Lark pulled the blanket around her shoulders and curled up in the bed, watching the dust dance in the sunlight. She felt empty-headed. Empty-hearted. Empty.

He wore his T-shirt and uniform pants when he left the bathroom, and she watched him put on his vest and then his uniform shirt. He was kind of obsessive about his body armor—just like the marines in Afghanistan.

He crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed. He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “You’re not ready to go back to Africa. Don’t go running there because of me, or Nita, or your father.”

“That’s not the reason,” she said. The truth was she didn’t have any other place to go.

He pressed his lips together. “I should probably have my head examined for acting like some kind of horny teenager these last couple of days. I should have stopped you last night. You called me old-fashioned, and I guess I am. I should have been more adult about this. But, well, the thing is, I enjoyed hav**g s*x with you. It felt good. And I haven’t felt that good in a while. It was… fun. But—”

“Good. We’re on the same page,” she said before she heard what came after the “but.” She knew what he was about to say. She was his transition woman—the one who helped him get back into the world of the living. Every broken heart needed someone like that. She knew this truth going in. She had no right to be upset now. None.

He gave her shoulder a squeeze. He sat there for a long moment, and she prayed he would just keep his mouth shut.

Luckily, he was down with that program. A minute later he was gone, and Lark turned her head into the pillow.

Damn it, why did he have to be so articulate, even with his silence?

A kind of creeping numbness filled Stone as he descended the stairs at the Cut ’n Curl. Something had just happened between him and Lark. Something good. Something real. But it hadn’t ended right. He knew that the minute he’d turned up the hot water in the shower and it hadn’t pierced the cold that had crept through him.

Lark was leaving. He had known that from the start. They had been honest with each other.

So why was he feeling so empty?

He strode across Palmetto Avenue, heading toward Maple Street, where he’d left the Crown Vic. He squinted into the late-afternoon sun and reached for his sunglasses, but he’d left them in the cruiser. A cold wind was building, and it smacked him across the face.

The sun and the wind made his eyes water. A tear leaked out of his eye and fell down his cheek. He didn’t bother to brush it away.

He felt so alone. So utterly alone.

He thought back to the things Aunt Arlene had said a few days ago about there being a hole in the middle of everyone. Well, if that was the case, his hole was getting bigger by the minute. Pretty soon it would be black-hole-sized and it would suck in all the light.