“How’d you learn?” Geo took over pushing the cart, and almost absently, Lani threaded her arm through his.
“My dad, mostly, although my mom liked to cook, too. I loved those Saturdays, when we’d go to the farmers’ market, and then come home loaded down with produce, meats and cheeses. Sometimes he’d let Tyler and me have a tiny splash of French wine while we all worked together.”
“Tyler was there?” Geo spoke softly as to not break the spell of her memories.
“Oh, yeah. His specialty was nilagang baka, a Filipino beef stew he learned from my Lola. So good.” She inhaled deeply, as if still smelling it. “We’d play music really loud, and talk about anything and everything—politics, spirituality, sex. My dad used to say that preparing and eating a meal together is one of the oldest, most simple rituals we have. Those Saturdays definitely brought us closer as a family.”
And yet Tyler’s suicide had still come as a complete shock, even to the ones who knew him best.
For the first time, Geo caught a glimpse of the magnitude of that shock, and how, like an earthquake, it’d shaken Lani’s life off its secure foundation and sent her plummeting into a well of pain, neediness and confusion.
Geo glanced at her, unable to keep from marveling at how far she’d come in the few months he’d known her. The brittle, emotional woman of that first night in the bar had been replaced by one of quiet strength and calm understanding, a woman who could show up for a friend in crisis and know exactly what he needed. A woman who—in being there for that friend—was forced to confront her own pain, her own trauma, again, but wasn’t letting it control her anymore.
A true survivor.
His eyes started to burn. I don’t want to just endure this, because I don’t know how long I’ll be able to. I want to survive it, too.
“If I go to your group,” he said roughly, “I won’t talk, okay? I’ll just listen.”
He heard her tiny intake of breath.
“You don’t have to say anything you don’t want to, Geo.” Her voice was hushed. “And yes, sometimes just listening is the best therapy.”
She gazed up at him with those beautiful gold-flecked eyes, and almost helplessly Geo bent his head to brush his lips against hers. They caught, and lingered, the plush heat of her mouth sending a delicious shiver down his spine.
His need was reflected back at him in her slightly flushed cheeks and the pulse beating visibly in the hollow of her throat. “I’ve never made out in a grocery store before,” she whispered. “It’s, uh, sorta hot.”
Sliding his hands onto her hips, he backed her up against the dairy case. “Yeah? Does the skim milk turn you on, baby?” he leered, loving how she dissolved into laughter.
She glanced around. “It’s all this...heavy cream,” she hissed. “I can’t control myself.”
It was hard to kiss a woman who kept snickering, but Geo managed a few decent ones, decent enough that when a dry “Excuse me” from behind broke them apart, he had to keep his back turned for a moment until his body calmed down.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Lani exclaimed to whomever had spoken. “We were just goofing off.”
“Y’all are so darn cute, I really hate to interrupt, but I need to grab this and get home.”
The female voice was familiar. So familiar, in fact, that Geo’s blood instantly turned to ice.
It can’t be her. Oh, God, please don’t let it be her.
“Geo? You okay?” Lani’s innocent question caused the woman to suck in a sharp breath.
“Geo? Oh, my God. George? Is that you?”
Steeling himself, his heart beating so hard he felt sick, Geo turned around. The woman clapped a hand to her mouth.
“It is you,” she breathed. “Geo...”
He was surprised by the strength of her hug, the genuine pleasure she seemed to find in seeing him.
You should hate me. Why don’t you hate me?
While he stood there mutely, wrestling with his agonized thoughts, the woman turned to Lani and held out her hand. “I’m Renae Barlow,” she said. “Geo’s an old friend. It’s so lovely to meet you.”
Lani smiled and introduced herself, but her eyes asked Geo the one question he dreaded answering: Barlow?
The wave of pain coursing through him almost knocked him down.
Renae Barlow. Cade’s wife.
Chapter Sixteen
“I didn’t know what to say to her.”
Lani wanted to shout her relief at Geo’s muttered words. He’d been silent all through paying for their groceries, the drive home and lugging them upstairs. Resisting the urge to press him to talk, she’d clamped her tongue firmly between her teeth and waited him out.
Now she was careful to keep her voice neutral. “You haven’t seen her in a while?”
“Not since Dover.” He stopped in the middle of unloading one of the bags, his knuckles clenched white around a can of stewed tomatoes. “I’m the one who escorted him home.”
“Oh, Geo. That must have been so incredibly difficult,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry.”
Having to escort the body of his friend all the way from Afghanistan to Dover Air Force Base in Delaware would’ve been a solitary, emotional task in and of itself. Then to be confronted with Cade’s horror-stricken and grieving wife...
“I’m going for a run.” Abruptly handing her the can of tomatoes, Geo disappeared in the direction of the bathroom, and Lani stared after him, wrestling with indecision.
She knew the run would calm and exhaust him. By the time he got back, he’d be locked down tight as a drum again. Frustration burned its way through her. He’d finally cracked open the door, so now all she needed to do was find a way in.
But how?
A sudden lightbulb went off in her head, and she shoved the rest of the perishables into the fridge before dashing to the bedroom to exchange her sandals for sneakers.
When Geo emerged, dressed in his running gear, she was waiting for him, bottle of water in hand.
He stared at her. “What’s this?”
“Going with you. A run sounds good.”
Eyeing her floral sundress, hoodie and tiny cross-body purse, he said skeptically, “You’re going running like that? The woman who hates exercise?”
She winked. “First time for everything, right? Actually, I’ll walk and carry the water.”
To her satisfaction, he didn’t argue, just went into his warm-up stretches on the porch while she locked the door.