“As I see it, we have about ten minutes to reach our destination. Have to fill the time somehow. You don’t like my music, so conversation seems to be the next logical action.”
“Okay. Then tell me about yourself, Travis. It seems that Allie thought pretty highly of your intellect in high school. If you were so smart, why didn’t you go into business or computer science? Join the CIA or FBI or something. Hell, maybe become the next Bill Gates. But the military? Seems like a waste of your talents.”
“Well, Mer,” he said, using the same inflection as she’d used for his name, “for those of us without a hefty trust fund, education wasn’t as accessible.”
“Surely there were scholarships.”
“College didn’t interest me. Not back then. I’d wanted to get out and see something of the world. Kick a little ass in the process.” Well, that was what the other men—kids, really—had said when they all left for their first tour in Iraq. Before they saw the guy next to them blown into a hundred pieces—or suffered the same fate themselves. His reasons had been more personal.
“That was”—she looked over at him, and he waited for a snide comment from those perfect lips—“courageous.”#p#分页标题#e#
He nearly ran them off the road.
“I’m sorry. What was that?”
She sighed heavily. “I know you heard me.”
“I think so. But if I heard correctly, you just paid me a compliment.”
“I realize you don’t have a very high opinion of me, Travis, and I’ll admit that maybe, to some extent, you have reason for that.” He snorted. Understatement. “But I’m being honest. I haven’t been living under a rock. I know what’s been going on overseas and that going into the service is dangerous. You put your life on the line every day. So…yes. I think that’s courageous.”
He’d been scared shitless when he signed on. Brave was the last thing he’d have called himself. But it was something he’d had to do. And fortunately, his interest in becoming a SEAL candidate, combined with his high ASVAB score had taken his training to a level he could never have imagined before.
“When did you get out?” she asked him.
“Finished my last mission sixteen months ago. An undercover op in Afghanistan.” He’d considered staying on for one more mission, having loved his work, loved the challenge and camaraderie that came from being part of a special ops unit, but he’d recognized that he was becoming increasingly jaded. Angry. And that maybe it was time to use those skills and experience back home. Not that this was information he was going to confide to the homecoming queen. “A friend of mine started a private security firm. Paid good money. Still making a difference, helping people out.” He merged to the right for the next exit. “Your turn. Marrying at nineteen, your first year of college? Isn’t that sort of…provincial?”
She remained silent.
“Then you not only divorce the guy four months later, but marry hubby number two a year later. A single father more than twice your age who, when he kicked the bucket, left you even more disgustingly rich than before. And then there’s husband number three…”
“You don’t know anything about me, Travis.” Her voice was tight, and he glanced over to see her hands clenched on her lap.
“Yeah. You’re probably right.”
His dismissive tone incensed her more. “Don’t think you know me. You have no idea. Yes, my first marriage was a big mistake. And the third one, even bigger. But I really loved Darcy’s father. He was the only person—” She stopped, her shoulders sinking as the fight left her. More softly, she added, “We would have been happy.”
He raised his eyebrows. “He was like, sixty. Could he even get it up?”
“Screw you, Travis.” This time she leaned forward and flipped the radio back on, and turned it up to prevent further conversation.
Okay, he had to admit, he was sinking down to her level. These were all things he’d thought about when he read the file, gloating over her string of bad luck. But rubbing it in didn’t hold as much appeal as he’d have thought.
Even after the pain and embarrassment she’d heaped on him back in high school. Humiliation that had led him to hope that, after ten years, karma had been a bitch to her, taken her down a peg. Turned her into more of a troll doll than a Barbie.
Unfortunately, watching her stroll into that coffee shop like she owned the place, her ass still tight and her legs as impossibly long and toned as ever, he’d felt cheated. It hadn’t helped when he got an up close and personal look at that face and realized that—although it had matured with time, earning her a few more lines around her mouth and a new wariness in those eyes—she was still as stunning as ever.