The door opened with a bang, followed by the squeaking wheel of the chair she’d promised. She angled it down the steps, skipping the ramp altogether, and slid it to his side. “Have you been in one of these?”
“For a week or so. After the...” Man, it was still hard to say the word.
“Bombing?” she filled in.
He nodded and lowered himself into the chair, and Mandy adjusted the footrest so his leg was propped out directly in front of him.
Patting his foot, she said, “There you go.”
“Thanks. I’ll get it back to you when I can get another crutch.” He glanced toward his mom’s car, and her eyes followed. Tight lines formed around her mouth as she bit her bottom lip until it was nearly invisible. “Are you going to be okay?”
She nodded, then her eyes grew wide. “But your supper is ruined. Let me buy you another hamburger. I’ll even throw in a shake.”
Luke squinted up at her, trying to assess how much of her offer stemmed from guilt and how much was from just not wanting to be alone. He almost asked her if there was anyone waiting at home, but even he knew better than to broach such a personal topic on their first meeting, no matter how close he’d been holding her just a minute before.
The flickering smile on her face dimmed for a split second, and he caught a glimmer of the terror she still battled. He’d faced down his share of angry terrorists—or tangos, as his team called them—and sharpshooters over three tours in the Middle East, and it never got easier. Mandy was a first-timer. Actually, she was holding it together pretty well, all things considered.
But she couldn’t fully mask the fear. Her hands wringing and eyelid twitching, she maintained eye contact, but her smile never quite reached her eyes.
“It’s the least I can do,” she said.
Something in his gut promised his life would be easier if he just walked away. But he’d never walked away from hard before.
“All right. I’ll let you buy me a double-double.”
She pointed toward the glass door to her office. “Let me just lock up.” She dashed up the stairs, her movements fluid and graceful. All four of his older sisters had taken ballet when he was a kid, and he’d been forced to sit through endless recitals. Somehow, watching Mandy’s easy motion reminded him of those hours.
Jealousy surged deep in his belly. He might never move that freely again.
He’d always been so stable on his feet. So sure of his footing. Now he needed a shoulder to lean on just to stand.
Getting back on the teams was a pipe dream. At best.
So what was he supposed to do with all of the free time suddenly laid out before him?
The lights inside the office flicked off, and an instant later, Mandy exited, locking the door behind her. Shoving her keys into a small tote bag, she flipped a wild curl out of her face. With little more than a smile, she led the way across the lot to the sidewalk and then down to the light so they could use the walkway.
She didn’t say anything as they crossed the street, but her foot hesitated as she checked each direction three times before setting out. He pushed his chair behind her, the muscles in his arms aching at the new movements. He was panting by the time they reached the far side of the street, sweat trickling down the back of his neck.
At this rate, he didn’t belong anywhere near the SEALs.
Inside the crowded red-and-white diner-style fast-food joint, she got into line. “What’s good here?”
“You’re from San Diego, work right across the street, and you’ve never been to an In-N-Out Burger?” Luke couldn’t keep the snicker out of his tone.
Mandy shrugged one shoulder before turning back to the menu board. “I’m from Colorado.”
“Uh-huh.” That explained nothing. Maybe she was a health nut who refused to enjoy the greasy goodness of the Southern California staple. Luke was all for fitness. All for staying in good shape. He was also one for enjoying a stack of steaming beef covered in melting cheese when the day called for it.
And a near hit-and-run definitely called for it.
His stomach rumbled at the smell of the best burgers on the West Coast.
“Your options are pretty much a burger or a burger and fries,” he said.
She shot him a snarky grin, but ordered a burger and fries when she got to the counter.
They found an empty table, settled in and were halfway through their dinner before he came up for air.
Mandy stared, her gaze unfocused, at a glob of ketchup on her fries. She hadn’t done more than pick at her burger, but she didn’t seem eager to chat.
He didn’t really want to start a conversation, but something about the tightness of her chin—as if she was trying so hard to hold it still—made his chest hurt. “You want to talk about what happened back there?”
Her gaze shot up, and she looked surprised to see him there. “I’m sorry. I was just... I guess I just zoned out for a second. What did you say?”
“Back in the parking lot—” He tipped his head toward her office. “That wasn’t an accident. You want to talk about it?”
As the words rolled out, he knew he meant them. It was more than idle curiosity. He was tired of being unproductive. Maybe he could help her. Talking about it might help her deal with the experience.
He hadn’t had a mission in weeks. And he was months away from another. Just the idea of giving her a hand brought the side of his mouth up in a smile.
“Um. No. It was nothing. Just an accident, probably.”
Nope. That wasn’t true.
Her gaze jumped to the left, then down at her hands in her lap. Her shoulders squirmed, and she bit the corner of her mouth. She knew it wasn’t an accident or a distracted driver. Someone had intentionally tried to kill her.
“I doubt it.” He shrugged as if they weren’t discussing life and death. Perhaps if she didn’t think about what was on the line, she’d open up about it. “Who’d you tick off? Someone not get the results you promised?”
Her nostrils flared, and her eyes narrowed. “I didn’t tick anyone off, thank you very much. I’m a professional, and there are no guarantees in medicine.”
The bright pink spots in her cheeks were so cute that he couldn’t help but goad her a little more. “Come on. You can tell me. What’d you do? Break too many hearts?”
Her gaze fell to the table, where she twisted a straw wrapper into smithereens. Forehead wrinkled and neck stiff, she let out a tiny sigh before squaring her tense shoulders and forcing a half smile. Another chink in her armor. But she was determined to keep from showing it to him.
His middle jerked with regret. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed.” He stabbed a hand through his shaggy hair while she still looked anywhere but at him. “You’re in trouble.” He didn’t ask a question because it would have been too easy for her to deny it again.
After three years on the teams, he couldn’t walk away from someone in need.
He’d never been able to. That was why he’d wanted to be a SEAL in the first place. That was why he wanted to go back.
“I’ve got it under control.” Her chin didn’t so much as quiver, and she met his eyes with a steady gaze.
“What else has happened? Is this the first time someone’s tried to run you over?”