perhaps? A wild weekend leave during his time in the military?
“You could say that.”
She waited, all ears.
“My birth mom was an alcoholic and a heroin addict.”
“Oh.” Damn, how had she missed that critical detail from Sam?
“So yeah, I was just turned off the whole drinking thing at a real young age.”
The waiter returned with her wine, but now she felt bad for having ordered it. “Makes perfect sense. But are you sure it's got nothing to do with the fact that you're a control freak?”
His eyes sparkled with amusement. “Takes one to know one, sweetheart,” he murmured, the casual endearment making her heart clench. Raising his water glass, he held her gaze. “Cheers, Neveah.”
She touched her glass to his. “Cheers.” Taking a sip, she thought about his comment. “You think I'm a control freak, huh?”
The slow smile he gave her did funny things to her insides. “Yeah. Aren't you?”
She shrugged. “Yes, but how did you know?”
“I'm extremely observant.”
And good at sidestepping questions, she thought, considering him over the rim of her wine glass. They ordered salads and entrees, and once again he surprised her by ordering a vegetarian meal as she had.
“Let me guess,” she said. “You don't eat meat either because you're an environmentalist, or because it's too high in cholesterol and your tremendous discipline extends to your diet.”
“I eat meat once in a while,” he answered. “I just try to eat well most of the time.” He cocked his head. “What's your reasoning?”
She glanced away. “I uh... I haven't had much appetite for meat since I got back.” She fiddled with the napkin in her lap. “I think it's got something to do with the fact someone slaughtered the animal I'm eating, and then I start thinking about how they did it, and... Yeah. Too close to what happened in Afghanistan, I guess.” She'd always remember the sound of that knife cutting through her colleagues’ necks. Like a butcher hacking up a side of beef.
Feeling raw and stupid, she reached for a piece of bread, but Rhys stopped her by placing a hand on top of hers. Swallowing, she looked up.
In the candlelight, his deep blue eyes gleamed, and the understanding in them almost made her tear up. “Nev— ”
She pulled her hand away, embarrassed by how emotional she was feeling. “Wow. Bet you're glad you asked me to dinner, huh?”
“Very glad,” he said, “but I hate that I just dredged up those memories again.”
“Don't be silly, I can handle it.” She took a fortifying sip of wine. It wasn't his fault. Everything seemed to make her think of Afghanistan. “What else should we talk about?” There were a million things she wanted to know about him and his job, but she'd already made him uncomfortable enough. “Ben and Sam are always an interesting topic.”
His deep chuckle hit her square in the chest. “That they are.”
Over their meal they shared stories about their respective siblings. Sam might not be her sister biologically, but she was in every way that mattered.
In the middle of one story about Sam and her OCD tendencies, Nev even managed to get a laugh out of Rhys. Not a snicker or a chuckle, but an honest-to-God laugh that rolled up from deep in his belly. The sound filled her with warmth, and she wondered how anyone could accuse him of being remote and cold. He was incredibly caring and funny when he let himself be. She felt fortunate he was comfortable enough with her to let his guard down. Sam had told her he didn't warm up to people easily.
Fascinated, she covertly studied him as he ate his pasta, impressed by everything about him. She loved how much he seemed to savor each bite. Few people took the time to enjoy the flavors of what they ate. “Bet it's good to be able to taste your food again, huh?” From her secret daily updates, she knew he'd only regained that precious sense a few weeks back.
“You have no idea,” he said, laying his fork down. Then he
“You could say that.”
She waited, all ears.
“My birth mom was an alcoholic and a heroin addict.”
“Oh.” Damn, how had she missed that critical detail from Sam?
“So yeah, I was just turned off the whole drinking thing at a real young age.”
The waiter returned with her wine, but now she felt bad for having ordered it. “Makes perfect sense. But are you sure it's got nothing to do with the fact that you're a control freak?”
His eyes sparkled with amusement. “Takes one to know one, sweetheart,” he murmured, the casual endearment making her heart clench. Raising his water glass, he held her gaze. “Cheers, Neveah.”
She touched her glass to his. “Cheers.” Taking a sip, she thought about his comment. “You think I'm a control freak, huh?”
The slow smile he gave her did funny things to her insides. “Yeah. Aren't you?”
She shrugged. “Yes, but how did you know?”
“I'm extremely observant.”
And good at sidestepping questions, she thought, considering him over the rim of her wine glass. They ordered salads and entrees, and once again he surprised her by ordering a vegetarian meal as she had.
“Let me guess,” she said. “You don't eat meat either because you're an environmentalist, or because it's too high in cholesterol and your tremendous discipline extends to your diet.”
“I eat meat once in a while,” he answered. “I just try to eat well most of the time.” He cocked his head. “What's your reasoning?”
She glanced away. “I uh... I haven't had much appetite for meat since I got back.” She fiddled with the napkin in her lap. “I think it's got something to do with the fact someone slaughtered the animal I'm eating, and then I start thinking about how they did it, and... Yeah. Too close to what happened in Afghanistan, I guess.” She'd always remember the sound of that knife cutting through her colleagues’ necks. Like a butcher hacking up a side of beef.
Feeling raw and stupid, she reached for a piece of bread, but Rhys stopped her by placing a hand on top of hers. Swallowing, she looked up.
In the candlelight, his deep blue eyes gleamed, and the understanding in them almost made her tear up. “Nev— ”
She pulled her hand away, embarrassed by how emotional she was feeling. “Wow. Bet you're glad you asked me to dinner, huh?”
“Very glad,” he said, “but I hate that I just dredged up those memories again.”
“Don't be silly, I can handle it.” She took a fortifying sip of wine. It wasn't his fault. Everything seemed to make her think of Afghanistan. “What else should we talk about?” There were a million things she wanted to know about him and his job, but she'd already made him uncomfortable enough. “Ben and Sam are always an interesting topic.”
His deep chuckle hit her square in the chest. “That they are.”
Over their meal they shared stories about their respective siblings. Sam might not be her sister biologically, but she was in every way that mattered.
In the middle of one story about Sam and her OCD tendencies, Nev even managed to get a laugh out of Rhys. Not a snicker or a chuckle, but an honest-to-God laugh that rolled up from deep in his belly. The sound filled her with warmth, and she wondered how anyone could accuse him of being remote and cold. He was incredibly caring and funny when he let himself be. She felt fortunate he was comfortable enough with her to let his guard down. Sam had told her he didn't warm up to people easily.
Fascinated, she covertly studied him as he ate his pasta, impressed by everything about him. She loved how much he seemed to savor each bite. Few people took the time to enjoy the flavors of what they ate. “Bet it's good to be able to taste your food again, huh?” From her secret daily updates, she knew he'd only regained that precious sense a few weeks back.
“You have no idea,” he said, laying his fork down. Then he
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