When he finished his speech, her eyes were full of tears, but he knew with absolute certainty she wouldn’t let a single one fall. It didn’t bother him one bit, though. Her pride was one of the reasons he’d fallen for her.

“Beck.” Her voice wavered. “I don’t know how to belong to someone. I don’t know how to have someone belong to me.”

Her words flayed him alive, but he forced himself to step back, letting her slide down the wall. “I know what I’m asking. It’s a leap of faith, and I won’t force a decision out of you right now.” Hating the distance he had to put between them, Beck backed toward the door. “I need you at the ceremony tonight. Can you give me that?”

She nodded vigorously, but her gaze was on the floor. “I’ll be there.”

Before he left the room, he stopped in the doorframe and waited for her attention. “Two choices, Kenna. Let me know which one it’ll be. Tonight.”

He left the apartment, praying like hell his gamble would pay off.

Chapter Eleven

Kenna paced outside the packed auditorium. She had to be out of her damn mind coming here, dressed like some kind of teenage debutante. Her feet were light without combat boots to anchor them down, her body felt somehow more exposed than usual in the knee-length white lace dress. She tugged the secret flask from her purse and took a belt of whiskey, hoping it would calm her cartwheeling nerves, to no avail. Georgia. She was going to Georgia.

After Beck had left this morning, she sank into a hot bath and sat there until it went cold. Then she’d made spaghetti for breakfast and brought it in a bowl down to her workshop. About an hour had passed before she realized she hadn’t picked up a single tool. Or taken a bite of the spaghetti. She’d been in shock. She could count on one hand the times she’d felt wanted or important in her life. Most of them had come in the last few years via Darla. Once or twice while her father had been recovering from the heart attack, he’d let her see his appreciation for her help. But being on the receiving end of Beck’s proposition this morning had thrown her like a paper airplane into a tornado.

Snippets of their night together had started to trickle in once the shock wore off. Beck had called her nurturing. At the time, she’d found it ridiculous. Now, though? She wondered. Why had she stuck around Black Rock so long when—at age twenty-two—she was free to go anywhere? When she could move her business wherever she decided to live?

Was she waiting around, hoping her parents would need her? Hoping they would forget the past and include her in their new lives? The time she’d spent aiding her father’s recovery had pulled her off the path of destruction she’d been intent on traveling, giving her a reason to shape up. But what if her apparent caretaker nature was doing more harm than good now? Every day that passed without word from her family felt like a physical blow, felt like being abandoned all over again for something better. Brighter.

It stopped now. What she felt for Beck was scary, especially after such a short space of time. It fluttered wildly in her stomach, begging her to climb over her mountain of fears and slide down the other side, right into his open arms. Yes, there was a part of her that wanted to heal Beck’s wounds, soothe his soul. That newly admitted facet of her personality asked to be fostered. Beck recognized that part of her and accepted it, so long as her need for him ran beneath it, true and straight. And it did. She needed to be with him so badly, it sang in her ears like whistling wind.

You’re here to take the leap. There would be no backing out now…and hell, she didn’t want to. She couldn’t wait to see Beck’s face when she told him. Couldn’t wait to be held against his chest, hear his heartbeat. Kenna popped a breath mint into her smiling mouth and clicked in silver high heels toward the auditorium entrance. When she opened the door, she heard Beck’s deep voice coming from the stage and her heart carried her toward the sound she craved. She stopped just inside the back exit, pleasure settling in her middle at the sight of Beck in his dress blues, speaking from behind a podium. She’d never seen him in this capacity, commanding an entire room and yet, it didn’t surprise her. Their eyes met and he stopped speaking, his throat working as he perused her from head to toe.

A man seated behind Beck on stage cleared his throat, obviously prompting the major to keep going, which he did a moment later. “It is with gratitude that I accept this Silver Star. Men who came before me—good, self-sacrificing men and women—have accepted this honor and I can only hope to live up to their legacies.” His eyes found Kenna’s, as if garnering strength. “But I’ll be accepting it on behalf of Xander Gibbons, and I’d like this medal to go to his family. He wasn’t the only soldier who gave his life that day so I could stand before you here, but he was one of the best men I’ve ever known and his name should be remembered.”

Kenna caught Beck’s subtle nod to a dark-haired officer standing off to the side. The man she’d seen with him at Bombs Away. Just as he’d been last night, the man appeared to be losing a brooding contest with himself. The lines of his handsome face were drawn taut and even across the distance his eyes looked bloodshot. She returned her attention to Beck just in time for respectful applause to break out and him to exit the stage. He stopped to clasp his friend’s shoulder and say something before moving toward the double doors that led to the surrounding hallway, the same one where she stood, but he would be emerging around the corner and down a corridor. She started to back away from the crowd, intent on meeting Beck, but she saw him pause before leaving, watched his face register surprise.

To his friend’s right stood a pretty blonde she hadn’t noticed upon arriving, but the woman looked familiar, nonetheless. Too familiar. It only took Kenna a split second to remember the picture she’d seen in Beck’s wallet. Mary. Beck’s ex-girlfriend, Mary.

An invisible fist closed around her throat, cutting off her oxygen. Her legs began to shake with the urge to run as fast as she could. It would be over now. Look at them. They were a ten-year age progression of the homecoming king and queen. Stupid perfect. Mary had her hand on Beck’s arm, big, bluebell eyes pleading, white teeth flashing as she whispered to him.

Kenna could feel the cool air from outside drifting in through the doorway behind her, enticing her to leave. Not yet, though. Once she saw it done, she could bail and bail hard. Audience members had started to take notice of the golden couple, watching them curiously, but Beck led Mary toward the exit, stifling the disruption.

Kenna drifted in their direction.

* * *

Jesus, this couldn’t be happening.

He’d walked off the stage, raw from revisiting the tragedy that had taken Xander and wanting nothing more than to soak up comfort from Kenna. Seeing her appear in that doorway, dressed like an angel, had given him the strength to get through the acceptance speech. Her answer had been written on her face. Yes to Georgia. Yes to him. Yes to everything. The beating organ in his chest had swelled to the point of bursting, so full, so grateful.

Out of nowhere, Mary had appeared. Confusion had stopped him in his tracks, followed by a brief flash of nostalgia. Not because he had any lingering feelings for Mary. He hadn’t for a long time and now…now he couldn’t fit a single damn thing around what Kenna made him feel. No, Mary’s appearance had made him think of the past. A time when things were simple and he didn’t know what it felt like to lose a friend. Lose a battle. But she belonged in that time. The past. Not here and not now.