Once and For All: An American Valor Novel by Cheryl Etchison Page B

fact the man knew his steak, Danny would give him hell for watching too much Food Network.
    “Pretty quiet over there.” Ben lowered the lid and dropped into a nearby deck chair.
    “Just wondering if those steaks are kosher.”
    “Highly doubtful. It’s not as if all those MREs I’ve eaten over the years were kosher, either.”
    “Isn’t that against your religion, being Jewish and all?”
    “Emphasis on the ish part.” Ben chuckled and took another drink from his beer. “Isn’t it Lent? You Catholics aren’t supposed to be eating meat, either.”
    “Fridays, man. We don’t eat meat on Fridays.”
    “Right. Next time I’ll be sure to invite you for dinner on a Friday. Spaghetti is easier on my wallet.”
    Danny couldn’t help himself from checking to see how things were going inside. So far, so good, it would seem. He returned his attention to his beer, picking at the label until the entire thing pulled free.
    “So.” After a prolonged silence, Danny looked up and realized that was exactly what Ben had been waiting for. “Are we going to talk about the elephant in the room?”
    Danny shook his head. “Bree’s hardly an elephant.”
    “That’s true.”
    And then Ben went silent like a goddamn therapist. Just sat there, patiently waiting for him to start talking. He never did this shit in their early years, but as he and Marie had more kids and those kids grew older, it became his go-to tactic. One he’d perfected. Now he liked to sit in front of them, arms crossed, not saying a word. Just making those kids squirm until the guilt got to them and they spilled their guts.
    “I know what you’re doing. You can knock it off with the PSYOP mindfuck bullshit any day now.” Ben smiled in response, but still said nothing. Asshole. So Danny caved. “Go ahead. Let’s hear it. I’m sure you have a million questions.”
    Ben laughed at that. “Marie is the one with a million questions. I, on the other hand, only have one.”
    “And that would be?”
    Without any hint of sarcasm he asked, “Do you love her?”
    A nervous laugh escaped him. “That certainly isn’t the question I expected you to ask.”
    “You thought I was going to ask if she’s pregnant.”
    “Pretty much, yeah.”
    “You know how I feel about that.” Ben shifted forward in his chair, his elbows resting on his knees. “That’s a terrible reason to get married. And just because Marie was pregnant when we married, doesn’t mean that’s why I proposed. We might have married sooner than we planned, but from the day I met her I knew she was the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.”
    Danny had heard him say the same thing before. A story he shared through the years with plenty of guys who knocked up gate bunnies. Never once in all those times had Ben’s advice been directed at him.
    Although he and Michael were close, the bond Danny had with Ben was far different. They suffered through RIP then Ranger school together. Had been deployed three times to Iraq and another six to Afghanistan together. They’d mourned friends killed in war and celebrated life together. But never once, in all the years they’d been friends, closer than brothers, really, had they ever spoken of love.
    “It’s pretty simple, Danny. Either you love her or you don’t.”
    “It’s not as simple as you’re making it out to be. She was in a bit of a jam. I’m helping her out.”
    “So you don’t love her?”
    There wasn’t an easy answer to that. Of course he loved her. He’d always loved her. Probably would always love her. But the woman he was married to? He didn’t know her. And she didn’t know him. Neither of them was remotely close to being the same person they once were.
    “Just because I care about her and want to help her—”
    “And marry her,” Ben added.
    “And marry her, doesn’t mean I’m in love with her now.”
    From where he stood on the back porch, he could see Bree and Marie just as he’d left them. Then Marie