Chapter Nine
Sadie stomped to her car,her neck hot with anger at her dad’s audacity. She had never, not once growing up, been embarrassed by her parents. Dad’s behavior back there had all kinds of emotions jumbling up within her. She stopped next to her car, her gaze lingering on the restaurant, hoping her dad would come out to apologize.
She swallowed as embarrassment won the battle for her attention. A tingle swept up the back of her neck, making her ears hot. She had to fix this.
“I’m so—”
“Don’t.” Bjørn squeezed her hand, reminding her she still clung to it. “Don’t apologize. You did a lot more for me back there than a lot of my so-called friends did.”
He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand as he stared across the street to the bay. It was an absentminded motion, but it tumbled waves of awareness through her. If she hadn’t come to his defense, he would’ve just left. Did that mean Dad was right?
“Why didn’t you defend yourself?” Her question stilled his hand. She worried her tone was still sharp as her anger toward her dad burned off.
Bjørn didn’t answer right away, just stared at a fishing boat as it puttered out to sea. When he did, his voice was low and filled with hurt.
“Want to take a walk?” He pointed with his chin to the sidewalk across Railway Avenue that led to Waterfront Park.
“Yeah, just let me toss my pack in my car.” She pulled the strap from her shoulder and reluctantly dropped his hand.
He flexed his fingers a few times before shoving both hands into his jean pockets. She pressed her lips tight with disappointment as she tossed her pack in the backseat of her vehicle. Wishing she’d brought a dog so she’d have something to do with her hands, she pushed them into her vest pockets and balled them into fists.
They walked along the sidewalk in silence. He’d nod at people as they passed but seemed drawn into himself. Dang her dad and his jumping to conclusions. She and Bjørn had had such a nice evening talking about nothing in particular. They’d only gotten one training session planned. She had hoped to get several.
She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, quickly pulling her gaze back to the sidewalk in front of her. Why had he asked to come with her to stage the training field past his brother’s place? The warm look he’d given her as he’d asked had sent her stomach into a riot of nerves, like a litter of puppies had suddenly woken up and wanted to play. She wanted to stomp back to the restaurant and growl at her dad some more for interrupting.
She inwardly huffed as she tightened her ponytail. Bjørn’s silence unnerved her even more than his gazes had. She tucked her thumbs against the palms of her hands with her fingers as she let her arms swing softly beside her. Could she find enough things for the show if he decided not to help anymore? She wouldn’t blame him. She’d definitely have second thoughts if someone started throwing accusations around.
Bjørn stepped closer to her as a family passed, and the back of his hand brushed against hers. She uncurled her hands. She wanted to be bold and slide her fingers into his. The heat of anger that had pushed aside her normal hesitance in the restaurant and had propelled her to grab his hand had burned off to leave embarrassment and shame. Layer that with her usual self-doubt, and she didn’t have a hope of digging up the bravery to push past that boundary again.
When the family passed, he didn’t move away. She held her breath, keeping her gaze firmly on the sidewalk ahead of them. His hand brushed hers again, and she let her breath out in a slow, shaky stream. He cleared his throat. Her own suddenly felt dry, like it was closing up on her.
“Let’s go sit.” He snagged her index finger with his and pulled her toward a bench down on the rocky beach.
When he had her going where he wanted, and she thought he’d drop her hand, he threaded his fingers through her own. Her entire body lit with joy. She now understood why her dogs’ bodies would wag from head to tail when they got really excited. Her normal energy multiplied exponentially, and she wanted to dance a jig.
She stifled the desire… barely.
They sat on the bench, the wake from a passing boat making the water slap against the rocky shore. He set their joined hands on his thigh, then absentmindedly rubbed the back of hers with his other. Her pulse increased like the boat motor opening up as it headed to sea. Would he notice her scars barely hidden by her cuff? She pulled on the front of her vest and shirt, sweating in the hot summer evening. Of course, the weather had to choose that day to be beautiful. She should’ve left her vest in her car.
She tried to relax, to let the lazy circles he drew on her skin ease her tense muscles. She closed her eyes and focused on the slow motion. The more she concentrated on his rough skin skimming over hers, the more tingling built from her hand, spreading up her arm. Her skin was on fire again, but this time, the unnerving burn felt glorious. She shifted on the bench, wanting him to stop before he found her scars, but needing the touch more than she ever thought possible.
“About two months before my discharge, I had a mission taking a special ops team into a hot zone.” His soft words pulled her attention from the confusing sensation on her arm.
His cheek muscle clenched, and his Adam’s apple bobbed. He sighed, and the hand threaded with hers squeezed. Her eyes widened as realization dawned.
He didn’t like talking about what happened.
Or was it he just didn’t want to tell her? She should stop him before he started, let him know she didn’t care what happened, but her father’s behavior kept her mouth shut. Maybe if she knew what had gone wrong, she could get her father to see reason. She squeezed his hand in encouragement.
“I can’t tell you specifics.” He blew out a short, humorless laugh. “Telling you anything at all could get me in trouble, but I want you—that is, I’d like for your opinion of me to be based on what actually happened.”
“I don’t care what happened.” She turned on the bench so she angled toward him. “You’ve shown who you are in your actions.” She thought about how much the dogs loved him, and a small smile pushed her lips up. “Besides, my dogs adore you. They’re a much better judge of character than anyone I know.”
He stared at her, his serious expression pushing her joking away. Heat spread from her chest to her arms, making it hard to breathe. Or maybe that was because of the intensity of his gaze glued to hers. A cool breeze blew salty air over her, pulling strands from her ponytail.
He lifted his hand from where it had stilled its circling pattern on her skin and tucked the strand behind her ear. He trailed his fingers along her jawline before returning his hand to its motion on the back of her hand. Never had she been more thankful for a bench than at that moment. Her muscles trembled at his touch, and her knees surely would’ve buckled.
“Thank you for trusting me.” He shook his head slightly. “You don’t know how much that means to me.” He looked at their joined hands and continued. “The mission was a recon only of the enemy’s camp to see if the rumors of weapons were true. Situated in a series of canyons and mountains made getting a signal back to base nearly impossible and, because of the sensitive nature of the mission, the CO ordered radio silence between us and base. The terrain also made infiltration tricky, especially at night.” He sighed. “I was to land four clicks out and wait for the team’s return. The mission was only supposed to take an hour and a half max, and it would’ve if the team leader, a guy known for taking risky chances and his jerky tendencies, hadn’t gone all Rambo on us.”