No. She wouldn’t make things harder on him. Keeping her feelings bottled up hadn’t killed her over the last fifteen years. What would another few weeks—at the most, a month—more hurt?
“Hey.” She forced a smile. “Can’t sleep?”
“Rarely. You?” He finally looked at her, and she swallowed the pain lodged in her throat his concerned gaze caused.
“Nope.” She took a deep breath, letting his comment of not sleeping go, and pointed her chin at the pool. “Nice that we can come here instead of being stuck pacing the hotel room.”
“Yeah.” He glanced over his shoulder at the pool.
Would he talk more than just a word at a time? Did she really want him to? It wasn’t like they had a ton to talk about. At least, not without bringing up the past.
He sighed like it came all the way from his toes. With no effort at all, he hoisted himself out of the water and sat next to her. Water sloshed from him, chilling her legs, but she didn’t care.
Please don’t leave.
The fear that he would stand up and say good night hit her like an icy tsunami. No, no, no. She pulled her top lip between her teeth and bit hard. She couldn’t let her feelings for him overwhelm her. Not again. She’d barely survived the last time.
She was different now. Staring down death changed her, made her stronger. Resilient. If she could live through that, she could exist within a friendship with Gunnar.
“You ready for tomorrow?” Maybe if she kept things on neutral ground, the next time they were together wouldn’t be so tense.
“Guess so.” He shifted next to her, and she forced herself to look at him. “I’m still catching up to the idea that we get to go.”
She skimmed her gaze along his defined muscles as they flexed and relaxed. Geesh. He’d been in shape before. The military had honed all those angles that had driven her crazy as a teen into something truly swoon-worthy. She curled her toes through the water and forced her gaze to his face.
“Yeah. Me too, and I’ve had almost a year to get used to the idea.” Her attention snagged on a scar that started at his ear and trailed down his neck and over his shoulder. “Oh, Gunnar. What happened here?”
She touched his neck with her fingertips. The ridge of the scar and his cool, damp skin shot tingles up her fingers through her arm. Her hand trembled as she pulled it away and curled it around the pool’s edge.
“Nothing.” He touched where she just had.
“Okay.”
She understood his reluctance to tell her. He didn’t have to talk about his time away. Her asking was selfish and put him on the spot.
“Sorry, Jules. I’m still not used to talking about it.” Gunnar shook his head, taking a deep breath. “When a rescue mission went sideways, I had a little campout with some terrorists who wanted me to chat about things they couldn’t know.”
Tears burned hot and sudden in her eyes, making her nose sting. “They tortured you?” The words hurt as she forced them past the boulders in her throat.
“Not bad.” He shrugged and rubbed his hand across a scar on his stomach that looked like burn marks. “The cavalry swooped in before they could do any real harm.”
She swallowed, blinking the tears away before they fell. If he didn’t want to make a big deal about it, she wouldn’t either. Yet, she scanned his body again, noticing scars here and there. Some looked like bullet holes, others like more knife slashes. All reminded her of the fear she’d lived with, not knowing if he was safe or not.
The tattoo across his shoulder and down his arm snagged her attention. The realism of the American flag impressed her, but the PJ motto inked in the bright red stripes drove home Gunnar’s mission in life. These things we do, that others may live. He’d always been willing to sacrifice himself for others.
That wouldn’t stop just because he was home.
He took a deep breath, like he needed to prepare himself. She tore her gaze from the words inked on his bicep and braced for what he wanted to say.
“The other day, after Saylor blew up, I… I read your letters.” He turned his tear-filled eyes to her. “Jules, I’m so, so sorry.” He dropped his chin to his chest, like his head was too heavy to hold.
He hadn’t known?
Hadn’t even read the letters?
That heaviness that had settled on her built in her chest like a musk ox had trampled her. She sucked in a breath, letting it shake out as the other part of his words sunk in.
“You still had them?” Her head spun as she looked at him for answers. “Why?”