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Valentine from a Soldier(4)

By:Makenna Jameison


“Another glass of wine?”

“Yes, thanks.” He gestured to the bartender, who came over to refill my glass and bring him a second beer. My phone beeped, and I glanced down at the screen, seeing a picture of my friends perched on barstools at the beginning of their big night out. It looked like the snowstorm hadn’t put a dent in their plans. They were all wearing skimpy cocktail dresses with huge smiles on their faces and drinks in their hands. Morgan had a little veil and tiara atop her head, with the words “Bride to Be!” jumping out in glittery hot pink letters. I’d found it at a party shop near my apartment back in Chicago and knew she’d enjoy being the center of attention for one evening. I showed the picture to Ryan, and he grinned.

“Yep, you’re definitely the prettiest of the bunch.”

I shook my head and smiled. “Flattery won’t get you anywhere.”

“I’m not hitting on you, remember?”

“Right,” I said, with a knowing look.

“So you planned this big bachelorette party for tonight, but you’re stuck here in California. I’m guessing you’re not on vacation. Were you here on business or something?”

“Actually, yes. I’m a conference planner, and I was here all week for the big conference going on at the hotel.”

“Right, I saw a bunch of medical types wandering around a few days ago. Was it a medical convention or something?”

“Yep. It ended this morning, so I thought I’d have plenty of time to get home. I wasn’t taking into account Mother Nature when I booked my flight months ago though. It sucks, but I’d rather miss this than the actual wedding.”

“That’s a good way of looking at it,” he said thoughtfully.

“So you said you’re in the military. Where are you stationed?”

“I’m back stateside now. I just returned from my third tour in Iraq, so I’m spending my R&R traveling up and down the west coast.”

I nodded, thinking it was a little strange that he wanted to vacation alone. Didn’t he have friends or family to spend time with? A girlfriend? Okay, he probably didn’t have a girlfriend judging from the way he’d been looking at me, but if I’d been stationed overseas, I couldn’t imagine wanting to go anywhere but home. Or if I was going to travel, I’d at least bring some of my girlfriends along with me.

“So what about you?” he asked. “You must travel a lot for work.”

“All the time,” I agreed. “I think I’d get bored being stuck in an office all day. I mean, I do spend my fair share of time at a desk organizing all the details for the events that I plan, but seeing new places is one of the reasons I love my job so much. It’s definitely more fun when a conference I’m running is somewhere other than Chicago.”

“I know what you mean. I’ve moved around a lot being in the military and all. It suits me though,” he said with an easy shrug.

I finished my second glass of wine and decided to quit while I was ahead. We’d had a nice chat, but I should probably just head back up to my room and let each of us go our separate way. Maybe I’d call my friends, and they could put me on speakerphone so I could pretend I was there with them. I at least wanted to find out what Morgan thought of all the activities I’d arranged for the evening: drinks at a swanky bar, dinner at a top-rated restaurant on the other side of town, and then dancing at one of our favorite clubs. I’d arranged for a limo service so we didn’t need to worry about finding cabs after each stop, and I imagined my friends laughing and giggling, sipping champagne, as they went from one venue to the next. We didn’t usually have a big night out like that, so I’d wanted to pull all the stops for Morgan’s last night out as a single girl.

I grabbed my purse and opened it up, pulling out a twenty.

“No, I got it,” Ryan said, holding his hand up in protest. “I would’ve been lonely sitting here all by myself.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course,” he said easily.

“If you insist,” I said with a shrug. “Thanks. Maybe I’ll see you around,” I continued, sliding off my barstool. “You know, if I can’t get a flight out of here soon.” I was gazing directly into Ryan’s eyes now, standing between my barstool and his, and I felt an unexpected feeling of sadness that I was about to walk away and probably wouldn’t ever see him again. Why couldn’t I meet a nice guy like this when I was back home in Chicago?

“Hopefully so,” he said. “Well, of course I don’t want you to be stuck here,” he added with a grin. “But if you are, then hopefully we’ll run into each other again.”