And just like that, the door slammed shut. “Everyone in town...they’ve been very supportive.”
“Your passion for those dogs is contagious. They feel that and want to be a part of what you’re doing.”
Amy cocked her head, studying him. “You really mean that, don’t you?”
“That you’re a passionate woman? Yes.”
Amy laughed. That comment was pure Mark. If she hadn’t known him since elementary school, she would have thought he was flirting with her.
“Wow, that came out wrong.” He ran his hands through his short brown hair. The waves all the girls had admired in high school had been lost to a military buzz cut.
“I guess some things don’t change,” she said. “You still have a way with words.”
“Yeah, being here makes me feel like I’m back in high school. Opening my mouth and sticking my foot in.”
“Like when you picked Molly McAdams up for a first date and you promised her father that you wouldn’t do any of the things you wanted to do with her?”
“Her dad came to the door with a shotgun. I was trying to tell him I wouldn’t lay a hand on his daughter. It came out wrong.”
“Molly thought it was hysterical. She told everyone the next day.”
“I remember,” he said. “I learned to keep my mouth shut and avoid girls whose fathers owned guns.”
Amy laughed. “That was everyone in school.”
“I know.”
Amy paged through her memory. Mark had steered clear of other girls after Molly. Maybe that incident, and the way Molly had retold the story of Mark’s fumbled words for the rest of their junior year, had bothered him more than he’d let on.
Staring across the table at the tall, muscular man, she didn’t see the quiet boy she remembered from high school. Yes, he’d just given her a verbal reminder, but the man who’d said the wrong thing was not the same person she video chatted with each week.
“You’re different when you’re deployed,” she said. “More focused and intense.”
Any trace of humor faded away. “I have to be. I lead a team of men. When a mission drops, we can’t mess around. I need my team to follow my orders.”
Amy nodded. Lives depended on him. Just thinking about it was sobering.
“Mark, how did you know that you wanted to be a PJ?” she asked. “You could have stayed here and become a doctor if you wanted to save lives.”
“Medical school was a little out of my reach.”
In high school, she’d asked Darren if Mark’s mom minded that her son ate dinner with the Benton family six out of seven nights a week. She’s not home, Darren had said. If he wasn’t here, Mark would be alone. And I don’t think there is much to eat at his place.
“I think we both know how much the people over there need help,” he added. “Getting soldiers home to their loved ones, that’s what I’m good at.”
“It’s your passion.”
“It’s a job, Amy. Just a job.”
She reached across the table and placed her hand over his. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”
He tensed as if the touch surprised him, but didn’t pull away. Turning his hand over, he interlaced his fingers with hers, holding tight. A taut energy radiated from his touch. And she didn’t want to let go. She felt his strong presence through the computer each week. But this—this was more.
Or maybe she was imagining things. Maybe dormant desire had chosen this moment to rise to the surface, demanding she pay attention.
His gaze met hers across the table, searching and intent. It was as if he was trying to decode the meaning behind her words and the way her hand held his.
I want—
Mark’s phone vibrated on the table, silencing the errant thoughts. He picked it up, scanning the screen. “It’s Luke. They’re at Tall Pines. We’ve been ordered to join them.”
“We can’t avoid your welcome home forever.” She smiled. “I’ll get the check. Are you okay to split it?”
“I’m buying, Amy. I insist.”
The way he said those words left her nodding. “Okay, but your first drink at the bar is on me.”
“Deal.” Mark signaled to the waitress.
After settling up, they headed for the door. Part of her wished they could stay here, just the two of them, joking about the past and learning more about the people they’d become. But it was only a matter of time before the Benton brothers would come looking for them, determined to drag them both into the town spotlight.
* * *
MARK HESITATED, HIS HAND on the door to the tavern. He could hear the live country band and the stomp of cowboy boots on the dance floor from the street. The place would be packed. Not many bars around here and with the Benton brothers in town everyone would be at Tall Pines tonight.
He glanced over at Amy. Mark wanted to return to the quiet intimacy of the restaurant and keep her to himself for a little longer. Coming home, he felt as if he’d pulled on boots that he’d outgrown years ago. But with Amy he could kick them off and relax. Right now, that sounded a helluva lot better than facing old friends from school.
“Ready?” she asked, moving to his side.
“It’s crowded in there.”
She bit her lip, and he felt her shifting away as if she might turn around and head back to her truck. “I had a bad feeling it would be,” she said. “The guys likely rounded everyone up. Told them you were home.”
“We can leave. I’ll text Luke, tell him you’re tired and that I had to drive you home.”
“No. It’s your first night back. You should have fun. Drink. Visit with friends. I’ll be fine.” She glanced through the window beside the door. “As long as I stay off the dance floor.”
Mark frowned. “You were always the first one out there. To this day, you’re still the only person who has ever made me dance.”
“And your junior prom date loved that.”
“She knew it was part of the deal in advance,” he said. “But you stayed on the floor until they kicked us out of the gym.”
“I’m not up for dancing tonight. Too much Mexican food,” she said, glancing at the window again. “Mind if I hold on to your arm?”
His brow furrowed. “Sure.”
She stepped closer, looping her arm through his, leaning into him. Shock waves pulsed through him as if her body touching his set off a chain reaction heading south. And he sure as shit was going to stop it before that happened.
Mark told himself it was a matter of getting readjusted to living in a world that wasn’t peopled with his teammates and injured soldiers, where touch was more than a dying man’s hand in his and a fellow PJ slapping him on the back. His reaction had nothing to do with Amy’s slim legs or soft curves.
“If I tell them I twisted my ankle I won’t have to dance,” she said. “You know, if anyone asks. And they always do when I come here.”
Mark frowned. “You’re serious about not dating.”
“That, too.”
He stared at the Tall Pines’s wooden door. “It’s been more than a year, Amy.”
“I know, but...”
She