Kenna ducked her chin and nodded. “I am hungry,” she managed.
Reaching around her, Griffin grabbed the burgers and berries. He held a raspberry to her lips. They were her absolute favorite, and he’d remembered that, too. And damn if that wasn’t doing funny stuff to her chest, stuff she wasn’t sure she liked.
I wanted to feel less, not more.
Can I handle more?
She didn’t know. She really didn’t.
They each took one of the sliders, and she devoured hers, much to his amusement and pleasure. And then she brushed off her fingers, hugged the blanket to her chest, and started talking, cutting right to the chase. “I lost my arm two years ago in Afghanistan while I was serving with the Marines. One of the guys in my unit tripped an IED on a routine patrol. He and one other died instantly. And I eventually lost my arm.” On a deep breath, she met his gaze.
“Jesus, Kenna. You’re a Marine? That’s...that’s fucking amazing,” he said, raking a hand through his dark hair.
“I was a Marine,” she clarified, grabbing a few raspberries.
“Bullshit,” Griffin said. Her gaze cut to his. “I know some guys in the Corps. Once a Marine, always a Marine. That’s what they say. Nothing can take that away from you.”
Her throat tightened at the passion in his words, at the way they resonated down deep inside of her. There was truth in them, she knew there was, but that truth was so hard to grab on to when she felt so guilty that she’d survived when others hadn’t.
“Yeah,” she said. After a moment, she went on. “One of the people who died was my best friend. Her name was Georgia, Georgia Kern. Although everyone called her George. So we were George and Ken, which the guys all thought was hilarious.” She chuffed out a little laugh, memories reaching for her. “It was pretty funny.”
“Damn, I’m so sorry for everything you’ve been through, Kenna. But I’m proud of you, too.” Master Griffin leaned in and kissed her forehead, his gaze suddenly too observing, too seeing.
All at once, she needed to change the subject. “So what about you?” she asked, grabbing the cookies. She handed him one and took a bite of her own.
His brow arched. “What about me?”
Her mind searched and then landed on something. “Tell me about...your tattoo.” Butterflies whipped through her belly, because she’d been desperately wondering what it could mean.
He tilted his head, and his eyes...God, his eyes were almost too much to look at. “It’s you, Kenna.”
Her stomach did a little loop. “Well, yeah. I guess I figured that. It’s just...why?” she asked.
For a long moment, he didn’t say anything. And then he wrapped her prosthetic hand in his. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. And I wanted to remember.”
“Remember what?” she asked, the air between them suddenly filling with a gravity that made her chest feel strange.
“The woman I’d loved and lost.”
“What?” she blurted. Wait. She shook her head. Loved? “I’m, uh...what?”
“I think I was pretty clear, Kenna.” He gave her an open, searching look.
“But.” She shifted off his lap to the couch beside him and wrapped the blanket around her, and his eyes tracked the movements as his lips slid into a little frown. “You were clear. You were very clear. When you told me that you cared about me but didn’t want a committed relationship with me, in response to my telling you...” She shook her head, unable to say the words. Not now. Not like this. “So, I’m sorry, but I still don’t understand.”
“I was young and stupid and reckless. I didn’t mean to be. I guess I was just too immature to realize what we had. What it meant. It didn’t take me long, though. Within a few weeks, I knew I’d made a terrible mistake. I called and went by your house, but you were gone. And I couldn’t find you. A year later, I got the tattoo and—”
She rose abruptly, his words tilting her world on its access.
Kenna rounded the coffee table and paced in the narrow space. It was too narrow. Too confining. She suddenly felt like a caged animal yearning to run free.