Page 67 of Trusting a Warrior

Unsure what to do, Lani continued to hesitate. Her apartment complex had roving security, so maybe she should call the number and request an escort before she went any further. She’d just fished her phone out to make the call when the man lifted his head.

She gasped. “Geo!”

She hurried toward him, slowing once again when she caught a clearer glimpse of his face. His eyes looked bleak, lines of misery bracketing his mouth. Stress tightened his shoulders, his fingers clenched together so tightly the knuckles were white.

Holy shit. What was going on?

Her heart pounding, Lani leaned against the railing next to him. “Hey,” she said softly. “How’re you?”

Geo shrugged. “I’ve, uh, been better.”

His voice sounded scratchy, hoarser than usual, and the way he was sitting, muscles bunched as if ready to flee, warned her to keep it light. “Well, I just happened to have made a cheesecake this morning that’ll knock your socks off. Wanna come inside and have some?”

A shadow of a smile touched his mouth. “Sure. If you feel like sharing.”

“Oh, I won’t let you hog it, buster, believe me.” Holding out her hand, Lani said, “C’mon.”

She pulled him to his feet and, entwining their fingers firmly together, led him up the stairs. Once inside the apartment, he headed for the bathroom while she flipped the lights on and started some soft music playing.

She was busy slicing the cheesecake when Geo reappeared, the neckline of his T-shirt damp as if he’d splashed water on his face. Gesturing toward the fridge, she said, “Help yourself to a beer if you want.”

“No. No beer.”

He sounded so adamant that she paused. “Okay. Coffee?”

After a long, slow exhale, he nodded. “Yeah, that sounds good. Thanks. I’ll make it.”

She pointed out where everything was, then left him to it, her mind racing. What was going on? From what she understood, he was supposed to be headed to Langley right about now for his CIA “workshop.” Why was he home, so visibly upset?

And why had he come to her?

Her instincts still screaming to keep it casual, Lani said, “Lemme tell you about my day.”

Busy scooping out the coffee, he didn’t answer, but she saw the stiffness in his shoulders ease a bit.

“Remember the night we met?”

Geo threw her a wry glance. “As if I could forget.” He pantomimed someone puking.

“Not that part,” she grumbled, secretly delighted in the glimmer of humor. “I meant the part where I told you that I’d lost all my friends, the team wives.”

He turned to face her, coffee abandoned for the moment. “Yeah, I remember. Did something happen?”

“Hell, yeah, something happened.” She leaned in close, and lowering her voice dramatically, hissed, “I...stopped feeling sorry for myself.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah. So get this: the other night I was bored and lonely, my self-pity game super strong. ‘Boo-hoo, poor me. I don’t have any friends anymore. They don’t call me. Why don’t they call me?’ blah, blah, blah.” She paused. “You know what I realized?”

He raised an eyebrow. “That the phone works both ways?”

“Yes!” She punched him on the arm in her enthusiasm. “If they won’t call me, maybe I should try calling them, right? So I screwed up my courage and called this one girl, asked if she wanted to go to dinner sometime. Not only did she say yes, she brought a bunch of our other friends with her!”

“Oh, wow, that’s great.”

“We totally cleared the air. I mean, their husbands still have to work with Rhys, so they felt caught in the middle. No one knew what to say to me, or how to act, so they told me it seemed easier just to drift away.” She shrugged. “I get it. It was pretty much the same when Tyler died. Hardly anyone stuck around.”

At those words, the spasm of pain that crossed Geo’s face made her reach out to touch his shoulder, but before she could say anything, he spun away and snatched up the coffee carafe. “Gotta finish this,” he muttered. “’Scuse me.”