Temporarily Yours(43)

She knew things about him he hadn’t even realized himself.

He hadn’t said a word to her about losing someone in the war, yet she’d correctly reached that conclusion. What else did she know about him that he didn’t want her to figure out? It’s not as if she needed to be familiar with everything about him in this short-term deal they had going on. After tomorrow, he would walk away from her, and then they would be done.

Over. Finished. Never to speak again. No more communication meant no more pressure about opening up about Josh. About making amends with his father.

She might want to keep in touch via email or some shit like that, but if she asked? He’d tell her no. She didn’t need to be worrying about him—and she didn’t need to be sad if he died. She needed to move on. Laugh. Live. Have fun. Be free. Find new people to quote all of her random statistics to. They needed a clean cut. Fast, hard, and painful. Like ripping off a Band-Aid. Then she’d get over it quicker. Over him…if she even needed to get over him in the first place. Maybe he was the only one who had budding feelings that didn’t belong. Maybe he was the only one left wanting more.

It didn’t matter. He wouldn’t get more.

And he was fine with that. Fucking fine.

He couldn’t let her in. Wouldn’t risk losing someone close to him again. Even now, he could close his eyes and see the same fucking thing happening all over again, as if he was reliving it in real time.

The sweltering hot sun. The nonexistent wind. And the smile on Josh’s face…

Right until it got blown the fuck off by an IED.

He could even smell the blood and charred flesh of his best friend. Feel the way his heart raced as he sprinted down the hill, trying to get to him. To save him. But he’d been too late.

It had been his fault Josh was dead. Josh and the others. He was the one on lookout, the one supposed to keep them all safe. But he never saw the ambush coming, hadn’t been able to save Josh.

Hadn’t been able to save anyone.

They needed him to do better, and he would. But he wouldn’t do it with a girl at home. His focus would be entirely on the platoon.

“You look awfully pensive for a pre-wedding dinner,” Mr. Moriarity said, sinking down on the couch beside Cooper. He handed off a glass of scotch, then settled back against the pillows with his own drink. “What’s going on?”

Cooper shifted in his seat and straightened his back. Maybe it was old-fashioned, but he couldn’t slouch in front of his elders. “I was just thinking about next week, sir.”

He didn’t know why he told him the truth. He should have lied and said he was admiring the beauty of the moment or some shit like that. But he’d already lied to the man about being in love with his daughter. Wasn’t that enough?

“Your departure?” her father asked, his tone somber.

“Yeah. It’s fast approaching.”

Cooper looked at Kayla. She was laughing with Susan, and her mother watched them both with such love that Cooper wanted to take a picture and shove it under Kayla’s nose. They obviously adored her, and if she just explained she didn’t want a man in her life—that it hurt her when they pressured her to conform to their idea of what her life should be, rather than accepting her for who she is—they would get it. He didn’t doubt that. It might take some time for her family to adjust, but they’d get there.

“You really love her, don’t you?” her dad asked. “I can see it in your eyes.”

Cooper swallowed a sip of whiskey and almost choked on his drink, unsure of what exactly to say to that question. “She’s very special, sir,” he offered.

That, at least, was the truth.

“You’ve got that right.” Her father watched Kayla, a soft smile on his lips. “Are you upset you’re leaving her?”

“Yes, sir. Very much.”

That was true, too.

“A lot of men don’t start relationships before they leave for that reason,” Mr. Moriarity said. “You seem like the type of man who wouldn’t want to put a woman through that. I had breakfast with Frankie this morning, and we were discussing you. I’m sorry about your best friend, by the way.”

Cooper stiffened. “You know about that?”

“I do. I like to know what my daughter has gotten herself into. And I’m not going to apologize for that.” He lifted the glass to his lips and took a gulp. “I like what I see, Cooper. You seem like a good guy, which is why I’m surprised you started up a relationship shortly before leaving.”

“Sir…” He hesitated. “I debated breaking it off, to be honest. I don’t like leaving her behind to worry. Don’t like putting her through that.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I’m still not sure I shouldn’t break it off.”