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“I joined the Marines.”
Kat waved her fork at him. “I know that part. But I want to know what you’ve been doing.”
Liam picked up his own fork, shoving a bite of salad into his mouth. The woman would wave a steak at a charging lion. God, he loved her.
Hunter took a hasty gulp of water. He’d declined the wine, pointing out that he would be driving home.
“Uh. I did a couple of tours in Iraq, then one in Afghanistan. I came back stateside for a little while, at Lejeune. Then it was back out to Afghanistan. Right now, I’m TDY at Headquarters at 8th and I.”
Liam considered while he chewed. That was a lot of time overseas. A lot of time in combat.
“What’s TDY?”
“Temporary duty.” Hunter forked up another bite of salad.
Liam found the way Hunter ate both fascinating and sad. Before, he’d taken his time, enjoyed everything about the meal. Now he ate with almost mechanical precision. Given how much he and Kat enjoyed cooking and food in general, Liam felt a pang of loss. Food for Hunter wasn’t something to savor, it was fuel. His methodical destruction of the salad was part of his larger transformation from the boy they’d known into the Marine he’d become.
“Temporary? How temporary?”
“Ninety days.”
Alarm thrilled up Liam’s spine. Too little time.
“What then?”
Hunter paused, fork hovering over the salad. Liam watched it hang in midair.
“I don’t know yet. Hopefully a training billet.”
Kat made a frustrated noise in her throat. Liam glanced over, noting the little line between her brows.
“Where?”
Hunter resumed eating. “I don’t know. Maybe Lejeune, maybe Quantico.”
“Where’s Lejeune?”
“North Carolina.”
Kat studied Hunter for a moment. “What... You know, I don’t even know the right way to ask this.”
“Just ask.”
“I don’t know anything about military stuff. I want to know what your job is.”
“Jobs are called MOS—Military Operations Specialty. Mine was infantry assault. Now it’s infantry unit leader.”
Kat set her fork down quietly but the silence was so heavy that the small sound seemed to echo in the dining area. Liam looked down at his salad, almost gone now.
“You’ve been gone for ten years, Hunter. I want to know more about you, I want to understand what you do.”
Hunter set down his fork and pushed the salad away. “I just told you.”
“In military terms.”
“I’m a Marine. My MOS—my job—can only be described in military terms.” He looked away from her, frustration evident in his eyes even though he kept it from his face. “This isn’t working. I can’t sit here and exchange small talk and pretend everything is okay. I don’t operate that way.”
That brought Liam’s head up again.
