Page 33 of Trusting a Warrior

She’s having a baby and you’re leaving, asshole.

Shit. If he repeated that enough times to himself, maybe he’d eventually be able to remember it.

I almost kissed him.

Dropping the plates in the sink with a clatter, Lani twisted the faucet on viciously.

I wanted to kiss him.

Oh, Lord, had she wanted to kiss him. Her lips still tingled from coming within a whisper of his, and pretty much everything throbbed. Jesus, these pregnancy hormones were fucking insane.

Behind her, the chair scraped as Geo got to his feet, and she tensed, wondering if he’d come over and attempt to continue what she’d so foolishly started.

Instead, he quietly excused himself to use the bathroom. Slumping against the sink, she tamped down the stupid disappointment. Why would he want to continue it? The man was thirty years old, and by his own admission had never been married, had no kids. He was obviously a master at avoiding entanglements of any kind, and she’d be one hell of an entanglement, wouldn’t she?

When his footsteps sounded behind her, she couldn’t help but tense again, praying she could say goodbye coolly when he told her he had to leave.

“Is this your brother?”

The question was so unexpected that Lani froze, her brain scrambling to catch up. She turned slowly to see him holding one of the small framed pictures she kept on a table in the hallway.

She nodded. “That’s us at the Grand Canyon.” In the photo, Tyler leaned backward and flailed his arms, Lani’s tight grip on the front of his T-shirt and the angle making it appear he was about to fall in. “My parents kept yelling at us to be careful, but I love it because that picture is so us. Silly, goofy.” She paused. “Have you ever been?”

“To the Grand Canyon? Nah. It’s just a big ditch.”

She threw him a reproving look. “Well, that was such a fun summer. We went to the Canyon and Disneyland, one of the last family trips we took before Tyler died.” She sighed. “Anyway, I’m so grateful for the memory.”

After he’d put the picture back where he found it and they’d settled on the couch, he said, “I’ve never been to Disneyland, World, whatever.”

Lani was about to let out a dramatic gasp and make some flippant remark about “What kind of childhood did you have?” when, just in time, she remembered exactly what kind of childhood he’d had.

She nodded, careful not to let any pity show on her face. “It must’ve been too hard for your dad to travel.”

“It was.” He shrugged, his lips tightening a bit. “I asked every summer, but we never got to go. As an adult looking back now, I can’t even imagine how difficult and expensive it would’ve been for my mom to find a caregiver for him so we could go, but as a kid...”

As a kid, disappointments became disasters.

Her heart aching, she said, “Well, you should go. Rhys and I went a while back. It’s only a couple of hours from here, you know.”

To her relief, a smile banished the remoteness from his eyes. “What, did you borrow somebody’s kid to take with you?”

“Nah. We just went.”

“Two adults going to Disneyland?” He sounded so astonished that she giggled.

“Yeah, silly. It’s not just for kids. It’s fun for everyone.”

“If you say so.” With that, he got up and wandered aimlessly around the living room, looking at the pictures on the walls—mostly of Tyler—and examining her meager Blu-Ray collection.

Suddenly he grabbed a case and held it up. “Call of Duty? Really?”

He sounded so disgusted that she laughed. “Oh, shit. We got that at a command holiday party as a white elephant gift. I made Rhys play it with me a few times, and when he helped me move out, he must’ve stuck it in with my stuff while he kept the Xbox. Asshole.”

“Did he win?”

“Ha, nope. I’d kick his ass by spraying bullets everywhere, and then he’d sulk and wouldn’t play with me, said he refused to reward bad tactics.” Lani couldn’t help but grin at the memory.

“You still love him.” It wasn’t a question.