would describe a moment like this as a lover being spurned. She shook her head and ran a hand through her hair. “I don’t understand you.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” He sighed. “I just don’t think I’m ready for a relationship.”
Kensi’s inner attorney kicked in. She adopted the cool, collected resolve that she’d taught herself in court. “If you’ll remember,” she said, her words clipped. “You are the one that’s been asking me if I was going to kiss you or not.” She gave in to the litigator part of her that wanted to grind a point. “On the beach,” she said, counting the moments off on her fingers. “That first night when we were going to bed. The next day at breakfast.” Even though she knew it wasn’t court, there was no judge, and this issue was totally stupid, she couldn’t stop herself. “Need I remind you of the way you played footsie with me beneath the table at dinner with my brothers right there? And you asked me for a date, too.”
“I know.” He reached out to touch her again.
She pushed him back. “Just don’t, Tim.” Why was she reacting like a teenager, like a spurned woman? It had only been a kiss, after all. The memory was too fresh, though, and it filled her with so much desire that she reflexively stamped down on it.
“It’s me, not you. I wish I could explain, but I—”
“Are you seriously giving me that line?” A crazed look washed over her. “Really? Not that line.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.” She reached for the car door. “Goodbye, Tim.”
“I killed her.”
Kensi froze. Her mind raced to the times anyone asked about Tim’s wife. His expression always shut down like he was Fort Knox. She jerked back to face him. Sure enough, he looked the same way he used to. Irritation was more prevalent in her than compassion, though. “What do you mean, you killed her?”
He looked down and picked at a fingernail. He used to do that when they were younger. She remembered the shy version of him, the boy who had been awkward and unsure of his place in life. “She told me about the pain. She told me about the pain, and I dismissed it. I mean,” he said, throwing a hand through the air, “I didn’t think it was … cancer. We’d been married two years, and we were trying to have kids.”
The mention of trying for kids hit her square in the chest. For the first time, she wondered if they’d had problems too.
“But Tina was the physically active type. Always running, doing yoga, teaching exercise classes.” He grunted. “She forced me to do a marathon with her—that’s how intense she was.”
Unwillingly, Kensi smiled. He’d always hated distance running. “That is bad.”
His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “By the time we took her to the doctor and then got into a specialist, it was too late. She had stage four bone cancer.” He put up four fingers. “Stage four cancer, and she was twenty-eight years old. And …” With tears in his eyes, he broke off, his voice cracking. “She was a fighter.” He swallowed and then wiped beneath his eyes, tossing a hand her way. “She was like you. She wasn’t going down easily. So she did chemo. Radiation. Every herbal diet or shake or …”
As he spoke, Kensi’s anger rushed out of her, leaving her deflated like an old balloon. Her own mother had fought breast cancer too many times, done too many treatments. Her heart softened as she thought of Tim making the smoothies and helping his wife to the treatments.
His angst and trepidation about diving into a relationship suddenly made sense. He was a good man who had been hurt. It was no one’s fault, but these were scars he couldn’t compartmentalize. He was a Marine.
Kensi inhaled a long breath. She understood how to deal with military men. Her father had been the most typecast military man she knew, and her brothers had followed in his footsteps. They were still her crazy brothers, but in the quiet moments, she saw the haunted expressions on their faces. She knew better than to ask what they were thinking about. Most of the time, it wouldn’t unburden them to talk about it. They always felt like it was their fault. Any of it. All of it.
“I’m sorry, but it’s my fault she died. I should have listened. I should have taken her in sooner. I should have done so many things