All for You by Jessica Scott

There was such a rawness in the bleak sadness in his voice.
    It was a long moment before he answered. “It’s not important,” he said quietly.
    There was more there, something dark. Something that tugged at her and made her want to go into the dark shadows she saw in his eyes.
    But there was something more, something that urged her to wait. Her gut said he wasn’t ready, that he’d opened up without meaning to.
    “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable if you took that off?” She motioned to his body armor.
    He said nothing for a long moment as he set two smaller pouches next to each other. “I’ve done more uncomfortable things than this in this gear,” he said after a while.
    “Like what?”
    “Sleep. Eat. Bleed.”
    She froze. “You’ve been shot at.”
    He didn’t stop sorting. “Shot. Blown up. Sure. It’s an occupational hazard.”
    Emily watched the efficient movement of his fingers as he continued laying out the pouches on the chest of her body armor. He had rough looking hands. Veins stood out against his dark skin. Coarse hair dusted the backs of his wrists, disappearing beneath the uniform t-shirt. A black watch encircled his left wrist. There was no wedding band mark on his left hand.
    Faint white scars marked his knuckles. She wouldn’t have seen them unless she’d been looking. She searched the moisture-wicking fabric of the t-shirt, looking for any sign of scars on his body. He spoke of getting shot at like it was akin to stubbing his toe. The muscles in his jaw bunched; the veins in his neck strained against his skin.
    “You can keep staring at me or you can pay attention to what I’m doing so you can do this yourself.” He stopped, holding a small, roundish pouch in his right hand. When she didn’t move, he sighed roughly. “What are you staring at?”
    “You’ve been shot?” Emily cleared her throat. “I mean, I know it’s not unrealistic and all but…”
    He shifted then to pin her with those intense dark eyes. “What do you think I do in the infantry? Hand out candy and flowers?” He turned back to her gear. “Winning the hearts and minds is some slogan for officers and talking points on cable news. I just want to bring my boys home from the fight.” His throat moved and he yanked the glasses off his head and tossed them onto a nearby chair. “All right, pay attention. You want your ammo pouches where you can easily access them and where they don’t hinder your movement.”
    She blinked at the abrupt transition. “I have no idea what you just said.”
    He turned to stare at her, his eyes glittering darkly. “Which part?”
    “Any of it.”
    “Ammo. Ammunition? The little bullets you put in the magazine and shoot people with.” He frowned. “You know what a magazine is?”
    Emily pursed her lips as heat crept up her neck. “Can I just not answer any more questions?”
    She wanted to shrink away from the harsh irritation she saw looking back at her. She braced for an ass chewing of epic proportions, prepared to take it. She wanted to understand his world but she didn’t even know what questions to ask.
    “All right, look,” he said after a long moment. And when he continued, there was a wealth of patience in his voice. “When you deploy, you’ll have something called a basic load of ammo. You’ll have more in your vehicle. You’ll need to get proficient with your weapon because rapid reloading is a learned skill that takes a lot of practice. Your magazines, where you carry your extra ammo, go here, like on my kit.”
    “Kit?”
    “Short for rifleman’s kit,” he said pointing to all the equipment on the floor. “Slang for all of our gear.”
    Emily nodded and looked at the magazines he wore tucked into his body armor pouches, trying to keep up with the new language he was throwing at her. “Is that a basic load?” she asked, gesturing toward the magazines strapped to his chest.
    “It’s more than basic load.” He met her gaze. “I like to go loaded for