Page 87 of A Hero Comes Home

“I do,” she said. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a college class ring from the Citadel. She shoved it across the table.

“My ring?” he asked dumbly. “You kept it all these years?”

“Not out of any sentiment. I just didn’t feel right about throwing it in the trash.”

“In the trash?” He looked at her and couldn’t help but notice her chin rise a notch. Also, her hands were trembling a little. Hmmm. “Do I sense a little hostility here?”

“Now why would you think that? Do you remember what you said when you gave me that ring?”

“Give me a break. That was ten years ago, Laura.”

But, yeah, I remember. I told you that I would come back after basic training, and we would get engaged. Should I tell her why I didn’t—couldn’t—or is it too late for that?

“The shelf life for being a jackass is like . . . forever.”

“Ouch. Would it help if I said I’m sorry?”

“No. And don’t be thinking I’m going to jump into the back seat of your uncle’s sex mobile with you, for old times’ sake.”

Izzie blinked with shock. He hadn’t in a million years been thinking that. But he was now.

She waved a hand dismissively when he was about to say something more. “None of that matters. Returning your ring and a boring rehash of your dumping me a long time ago is not the reason—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. I did not dump you.”

She waved a hand dismissively again. If she kept doing it, he might just grab her by the wrist and haul her over the table and . . .

“I need to talk to you about the parade on Saturday.”

“Huh?”

“I’m on the parade committee.”

He shook his head to clear it. “Did I miss something here? What does a recording device, Jake, and my class ring have to do with a friggin’ parade?”

“I never said they were connected. You’re the one who made assumptions about why I wanted to talk to you.”

He rolled his eyes and sat back in his chair, but not before taking a long drag on his beer. “Okay. Give it to me. What about the parade?”

“I just wanted to make sure you’re wearing that hottie uniform like in the picture on the wall of the deli.”

“You think I’m a hottie?”

“Not you. The uniform.”

“Wait. Are you under the delusion that I’ll be participating in a parade?”

“No delusion. You’re in, buddy. Riding in a convertible with Major Durand.”

Oh, crap! “How do you know Major Durand?”

“I don’t know the man. Jeesh! Don’t get bent out of shape. Mayor Ferguson is the one who contacted him after your aunt mentioned that she was going to have a high uppity-up Army guy as a weekend guest. And she wasn’t talking about you.”

“I never said I was a high uppity-up.”

The look she gave him said that he probably thought it. “So, it’s settled? You’ll be in the parade.”

He assumed that Durand had approved this already. “I guess so,” he said. “About that other thing. The nondumping. What say we have dinner together tonight and straighten out some misconceptions?”