In the living room, Valerie was curled at one end of his couch, wine glass in hand. Seeing him, she raised her eyebrows. “What a cool device. Almost like a peg leg.”
He smiled. He’d hoped she wouldn’t be the type to react poorly. Curiosity, he could handle. “It’s useful for getting around after I take my prosthesis off and beats using crutches. I like having my hands free.”
He unstrapped the device and set it to one side, then sat beside her.
Checking out his residual limb, she caught his gaze and flushed.
“It’s all right to look, sweetheart. I don’t mind.”
To his surprise—and delight—she took him up on the offer. Leaning forward, she ran her hand over his left knee and down over the stump. Unhappiness showed in her expression, but no revulsion.
“You handle the sight better than a lot of people do.” He picked up his beer. A sip of the icy cold brew went down well.
“Ah, well,” she went back to her wine, “I was an analyst in the Department of Defense”
Interesting. “Somehow, I wouldn’t have thought you the type for warfare.”
Had she startled the Colonel? Valerie almost laughed. “I’m not. I wanted to go to college and—” She winced. She really didn’t want to talk about her mess of a childhood.
“And…?” He’d turned so he could watch her face, and after a second, took her hand in his big warm one. Staying in contact.
How did he know it would loosen her tongue? “And my parents were consulting with American businesses in the Middle East. They wanted me to continue tending the house, planning their social events, doing the shopping. When I refused to stay, they cut me off.” They’d shouted she was a worthless, ungrateful child and thrown her clothes in the street and told her to never come back. “It took almost all my savings to fly back to the US.”
“How old were you?”
“I turned eighteen that day.” She gave him a rueful smile. “I was an unplanned pregnancy and not especially wanted until I was old enough to be useful. Then again, maybe it was good for my character.”
When she sighed, Ghost put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. “Feeling unwanted isn’t good for anyone,” he growled, “especially a child.”
“Well, being broke is how I ended up in the DoD. I spoke Arabic, so they snatched me up as a linguist.”
“Ah, excellent choice.” He toasted her with his beer. “Then you managed college and grad school?”
“Mmmhmm. Marriage and a couple of children, teaching in a community college, working on a doctorate and a book. That’s pretty much my life.”
He ran his fingers through her hair. “I somehow doubt that, but it gives me a timeline, at least.”
She laughed. The wine had started a lovely buzz in her veins. She was warm and comfortable, and his hand in her hair made her want to purr like a contented cat. “What’s your timeline, then?”
“My father wanted me to get an MBA and handle his manufacturing company, but I disliked business. I switched to history, earned my master’s, taught for a couple of years, then wanted some adventure. So, I joined up, did officer candidate school, and worked my way into Special Forces. Got married. I was in a bit over twenty years, mostly based in Seattle, and picked up my doctorate and did some teaching while in.”
He hesitated before adding, “No children, my wife died of cancer.” His voice had gone rough with the last sentence. He’d loved his wife. A lot.
“Oh, Ghost, I’m sorry.”
“Thank you. It was four years ago, so it’s not fresh.” He tugged her hair. “As you’ve probably learned, it takes a while to recover from losing someone. And to being alone.”
“Don’t I know it.” She sighed, then frowned. “My children are only a couple of hours away, and I drive over to see them fairly often, although Dillon is overseas right now.” She had to admit her children’s worries over how their father was doing occasionally made for awkward conversations. “Do you have any family here?”
He chuckled. “Not even close. My father died a few years ago. When I was a teen, my parents divorced. My mother returned to Scotland and later married a good Scottish man. You remind me of her sometimes—your ability to pick yourself up and get on with what needs to be done.”
That…was an amazing compliment. “Thank you.”
He continued, “I have a few half-siblings, and they’ve given me plenty of nieces and