When Summer Comes (Whiskey Creek #3)(22)
Author: Brenda Novak

“I can heat it up,” he responded, but either she didn’t hear him or she wanted to do it herself because she didn’t change course.

“They’ll just come back later. You realize that,” she said as a plate of chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy turned in the microwave.

He’d chosen the seat on the far side of the table, where he’d sat for breakfast. “I do.”

“By then you’ll have your bike fixed. Is that it?”

“My bike’s already fixed. By then I’m hoping to have the barn finished.”

She took some utensils out of the drawer and placed them in front of him, along with a glass of wine. “What are you afraid they’ll do?”

“I told you.”

“You’re afraid they’ll arrest you.”

He stretched out his legs. “Basically.”

“Over an unpaid speeding ticket.”

There was also a warrant out for his arrest in Nevada, which was far more serious, but he couldn’t say anything about that. “Two unpaid speeding tickets.”

“What’s the worst that can happen?” she asked.

“Don’t know. And I don’t want to find out.”

“Community service? Fines? Jail time?”

“Probably jail time.” Definitely jail time, since the speeding tickets were the least of his worries.

“Maybe they won’t realize you have those outstanding warrants.”

“They will eventually.” If they ever figured out his real last name…

The microwave shut off with a ding. “Right. They’re too curious about you,” she admitted as she retrieved his plate. “With Denny and Powell making you sound shady in an attempt to save their dogs, everyone will want to know who you are.”

“It’d be best if I’m gone by the time they dig up too many details.”

“That might not be long.”

He understood that. But he didn’t want to go without keeping his end of the bargain. She’d put herself at risk to help him, and he wouldn’t forget her generosity. “We’ll play it by ear, see how much we can get done in the next few days.”

“If you say so.”

He certainly didn’t want to leave right now. The food smelled so good his stomach growled. He couldn’t remember ever enjoying meals as much as he’d enjoyed them since coming to Callie’s. He’d been to many roadside cafés in the past six months, but they couldn’t compete with her home cooking. What made it even better was that she seemed to like feeding him. At least, she smiled as she watched him eat whatever she put in front of him.

“You haven’t asked where I went,” he said when he was about halfway through.

“What are you talking about?” She was back at the counter.

“When the police chief came.”

She blew out a sigh. “Because I don’t want to know.”

That made sense. Not knowing enabled her to be honest if he ever had to hide there again, which protected them both.

“Want more?” she asked.

“No, thanks.” He paused to look up at her. The dark circles under her eyes were more marked instead of less. “Have you eaten?”

She started tidying up. “I had dinner earlier.”

The memory of her, leaning on the table last night as if she didn’t have the strength to stand, popped into his mind. There was probably plenty she wasn’t telling him.

But there was plenty he wasn’t telling her, too.

“Eat just a few bites.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Why?”

“Because you need the nutrients.”

“Fine.” Taking his right hand, she ate the piece of chicken he had on his fork. “There you go,” she said with a laugh.

The fact that she was willing to eat from his fork told him she wasn’t afraid he carried some sort of disease. It also drew his attention to her mouth.

“You know how pretty you are, don’t you?” he asked quietly.

She didn’t blush or glance away as he thought she might. Her eyes remained steady on his. No doubt she’d had her share of compliments. “I think this is the first time you’ve ever really looked at me.”

“No,” he said. “It’s definitely not.”

* * *

That night Levi dreamed of a woman. He couldn’t see her face, but he was driving into her supple body, climbing toward orgasm, feeling the clench and pull of her body as she met each thrust. But a second before achieving that much-needed release, he woke up, heart pounding and muscles taut.

“Shit.” He lay there, breathing as hard as if it had all been real and wondering why he couldn’t have awakened a few seconds later. He was supremely unsatisfied but unwilling to ease his own discomfort. After causing Behrukh to lose her life, he didn’t deserve that kind of pleasure, didn’t deserve anything.

How long until morning?

He had no idea. He didn’t wear a watch, didn’t have a cell phone. Time didn’t matter when a person had nowhere to go. But he didn’t want to lie awake for hours, waiting for dawn. He’d done that enough those last few months in Kandahar.

After several minutes, his heartbeat began to slow but his erection remained, probably because he couldn’t stop thinking about Callie. He wasn’t positive she was the woman in his dreams, but it hadn’t been Behrukh. The feel of Behrukh would’ve been different. She was leaner, physically stronger, because she’d led a harder life. She would’ve smelled different, too—like the curry she cooked so often. After her death, he hadn’t been able to dream of her, anyway. He hadn’t been able to dream at all. The insomnia that’d plagued him the year before he joined the army had returned; he’d lain awake, sweating in the heat while staring at the dark tent above him. He’d listen to the coughs and snores and rustles of the other platoon members and wish he could be like them. But he couldn’t. Some days he had to roll out of bed to make muster, feeling so sleep-deprived he could hardly stay on his feet.

Ironic though it was, he’d won a roomful of martial-arts trophies growing up but was proudest of simply enduring those final months in Afghanistan—something he couldn’t have done without the training he’d received from his father. Well before any army sergeant had gotten hold of him, Leo had drilled certain rules into him. Levi knew how to use every ounce of self-control he possessed. He knew how to adhere to a regimen. He knew that sometimes he had to withstand pain and keep fighting even in the face of sure defeat. Without Leo, Levi would not have finished his last tour so he could be honorably discharged—but that was the kindest thing he could say about his father.