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Somehow, they were standing only an inch apart. Somehow, his fingers brushed her forearm. Somehow, his gaze was fastened to her lips. Reegan wasn’t sure if she wanted to sing for him or pull him in for a kiss?
“I’m so sorry for your loss.”
At the sound of the feminine voice, Brandon pulled away from her. His face, so open a second before, shuttered like blinds being closed on a sunny day. Reegan turned to find Dakota Harris. The petite alto reached out her arms and folded Reegan inside.
For a moment, Reegan wasn’t sure what was happening. And then she remembered. Reece. He was still missing, and everyone else thought him dead.
“We’ve taken up a donation for you,” said Dakota. “Clothes and shoes and gift cards so you can replace other things.”
Right. Her house had burned down. Reegan knew she should feel numb and devastated due to her losses. But she didn’t. She felt blessed. She'd lost all her belongings, but her community was showering her with both material things and love.
“Thank you, Dakota,” was all Reegan could manage.
Her brother was still MIA, but every day she didn't get a call that the military had found his body, her hope and faith remained intact.
“It’s awful that the insurance company won’t hand you the check,” said Noah Harris, one of the baritones in the choir. The man’s gray mustache touched the bottom of his nose, causing him to wrinkle it.
Reegan wasn’t complaining. She’d take not getting a check if there was a possibility that her brother was alive. Reece was strong. He was stubborn. She knew in her heart, that if he was able to, he'd come through and find a way home.
Now she had Brandon, a man who wanted to protect her, and provide for her, and hear her sing. In truth, she hadn't lost anything. Her cup runneth over.
Brandon had taken a seat in the back of the room, but Reegan felt his gaze on her from the moment she left him. His face was no longer open as it had been when they were standing close. It remained closed, but not his eyes. His eyes were filled with admiration as he watched her. The butterflies in her heart were working overtime.
Could it be possible that she was coming to have feelings for this man? She didn’t need to question. She knew it was true.
No one had ever given her butterflies. No one had ever made her feel warm and safe. No one had ever looked at her as though she were both special and desirable. Because that was desire in Corporal Brandon Lucas’s gaze. She wasn’t so innocent that she didn’t know what a man’s hunger looked like.
As rehearsal began, Reegan’s voice sailed from somewhere in the depths of her soul. Her every note was pitch perfect. Her voice lifted above everyone else’s until all eyes were on her and all other voices went mute.
Gone was the cold and emptiness that had robbed her of her voice a few days ago. Gone was the heaviness on her shoulders and the hollow feeling in her heart. Reegan felt full. The feelings spilled out of her heart and drifted over her tongue.
All the while, she held Brandon’s gaze. He watched her as though he were in rapture. At one point, his eyes closed as though he were in ecstasy… and they didn’t open again until practice was over.
One by one, the other choristers filed out until it was just Reegan and Brandon left alone in the room. She came to him on quiet feet. She sat down next to him, the wood of the pew creaking as she did so. But still, he didn’t stir.
She wasn’t sure what to do. She’d never had to awaken any man besides her brother. She tried calling his name quietly. But still, he dozed.
She laid a hand on his forearm. His skin was warm to the touch. The tiny hairs she found there tickled her fingertips.
Then her hand was snatched away from his arm. Her fingers wrenched. Brandon looked at her wild-eyed.
It took him a second before recognition dawned. And then his dark eyes filled with horror. His cheeks went beet red, and he groaned.
"Sorry," he said gruffly. "I wouldn't have hurt you."
"I don't doubt it."
She had been startled. But not frightened. She knew better than to come upon a soldier unaware. Her brother had warned her. But just as she felt no fear from Reece, she felt none from Brandon.
“Reegan, you can’t … you can’t …” There was so much shame, and guilt digging into the features of his face, making grooves and leaving frown marks.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I know better. You just looked so peaceful.”
“I’m not.” His gaze darkened. “There’s a war raging in my mind.”
“You have PTSD?”
The muscles in his neck worked. “It’s not severe, like some others. But when I close my eyes, I see …”
