“Not for me, no. But you might think so when I kiss you every time you do it in public or bend you over the closest surface when we’re not.”
My mouth opened and closed like a fish, then I cleared my throat. “Duly noted.”
A low rumble shook his body as he chuckled quietly.
“Um. How many girlfriends have you had?”
His forehead creased. “None.”
My brows shot to my hairline. “None? How is that possible considering you’re you?”
He glanced at me then back at the road. “I was in foster care. I didn’t want to bring a girl into that atmosphere in high school. Then I joined the army and my focus was on my job, not my love life.”
“So you’ve never been in love?”
He shook his head without taking his eyes off the road.
I bit my lip. Had he ever had anyone who loved him?
“Have you ever loved anyone?”
The hand still rubbing my foot squeezed it once. “Yeah.”
I knew I was wading into dangerous territory now. You don’t have nightmares like he had if he didn’t care about the men who died. “Was it your friends Coop, Buster, and Loverboy?”
He nodded instantly but didn’t offer an explanation.
Did I push or let it go?
I went with my gut. “I’m sorry you lost them.”
His quick intake of breath was the only indication he’d heard me. I started to pull my foot back to give him some space, but he held it in place. He drove silently for a few minutes more—while I worried I’d messed up and pushed too hard—before he finally responded.
“I was a sniper. Recruited for the position my first six months in the army. I had a natural skillset for long-range kills, and they honed those skills to a razor’s edge. Later, I was recruited again for Delta Force. As a sniper, I spent time on my own, sometimes in enemy territory. It suited me, the isolation, but members of my unit, Coop, Buster, and Loverboy broke through the wall I’d built during my youth. It was a natural fit for us. I protected them from a distance, and in return they gave me the closest thing to a family I’d ever had.”
A knot tightened in my chest. No wonder he had nightmares. “You lost them on the twenty-eighth of November, didn’t you?”
His eyes shot to mine as the truck slowed to a stop on the side of the road. I held my breath and waited while he fought the demons swimming in his eyes. I’m sure a psychologist would say not to force the issue, but I’d come this far, I wouldn’t back down now. Even if he didn’t feel like talking about it today, I’d opened the door for the future.
“How?” was all he said.
Reaching over I tugged up his sleeve until his Delta Force tattoo showed the words 28 NOV. “Josh saw your tattoo and searched the internet. I’m so sorry, Logan.”
He closed his eyes on the word sorry and dropped his head, breathing deeply through a shudder that wracked his body. “It’s my fault.” The words were spoken with resignation and anger. “I didn’t see the second bomber in time. I couldn’t save them.”
We were stopped in the middle of a snow-covered highway, but I didn’t care. We hadn’t seen another vehicle since we left town, so I unbuckled my seat belt and crawled across the cab until I was straddling his lap. Logan dropped his head back onto his seat and stared back at me with no emotion. He looked blank except for the twitching in his jaw, which said he was holding on, but only just.
I cupped his face with both my hands and rubbed my thumbs across the apple of his cheeks just like he’d done to me. “War is hell. Everyone says so. I don’t have a clue what you went through over there, but unless you put a bullet into your friends on purpose, then none of it was your fault. Evil wins sometimes, you know this. If the positions were reversed, would you blame Coop, Buster, or Loverboy for your death?”
His jaw tightened further. He wouldn’t blame them any more than they would blame him.
“Why do you think it’s your fault?”
“It was my job to protect my unit.” He clipped the word out through clenched teeth. “Not all soldiers look like me, Skye.