LITMIR.BIZ

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them, and he opened his mouth to clarify his meaning, then closed it. Better to let her think the worst of him. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be as bad as he deserved. He didn’t want her thinking they would go back to being friends.

      “I’m sorry about your injury. Do you want to talk about what happened?”

      “It’s in the past,” he said, then gritted his teeth against the truth that rushed to escape him. Instead, he swallowed it down and the familiar, hard weight settled in his stomach.

      “Where were you stationed?” Her voice was almost too low to hear over the loud background music.

      His gut twisted as he recalled the acrid smell of explosives around the besieged, remote outpost on his last day in Afghanistan. The slick sweat of his skin beneath his body armor. The staccato fire of bullets and flares of light where grenades hit. The screams of wounded soldiers and insurgents, along with his commander’s order to abandon the post. His hasty decision to double back and grab a hard drive containing classified information.

      In the rush, he’d initially left it—a big mistake for a signal combat officer. It was his responsibility to maintain and protect communications. His eyes closed as he recalled the pain that’d ripped through his calf, how he’d been thrown several feet and grabbed by a Green Beret from the unit that’d been called in when the ambush began. When they’d staggered to the Humvees, they’d fallen by the wheels, the soldier’s limp body on top of him. Reaching around the man’s back, Niall’s fingers had come away sticky and red and he’d realized, with horror, that his rescuer was dead.

      It wasn’t until Niall had regained consciousness, days later, to see his bandaged stump, that he’d learned a truth more painful than his injury. During his debriefing, his rescuer’s name had been shared. Chris Renshaw. Kayleigh’s brother.

      His missing limb could never equal the loss of a family member. If he had grabbed the hard drive in the first place or left the post when ordered, Chris wouldn’t have stayed behind to make sure he got out. Kayleigh wouldn’t have lost her brother. Simple as that.

      “Kunar,” he said to her at last, when she repeated her question. He gulped his water, then forced himself to ask, “Is your brother still in Afghanistan?” Keeping this from her was even harder than he’d imagined. Especially when he remembered how much her parents’ secrets had hurt her. No matter the time or distance, he still felt protective. Wished he could shield her. Ironic, considering he’d wounded her worst of all.

      Kayleigh’s eyes closed. “He’s in Arlington Cemetery now. He was killed in a classified mission. That’s all the army will tell us.” She looked at him, her anguish as sharp as a knife to his gut.

      “I’m sorry,” he said inadequately, but meaning it with every part of himself. “You two were close.”

      Kayleigh rubbed her forehead and spoke from behind her hand. “I need to know what happened. But so far, my inquiries haven’t gone far.”

      He sputtered on his mouthful of water and set down his glass. “Inquiries?”

      “Yes. I’ve written to legislators and military staff. But I won’t give up. Chris wouldn’t.”

      He struggled to say something—anything—that wouldn’t betray his emotions. She was right about the man who’d saved him. He wouldn’t have quit.

      But before he could speak, Kayleigh’s drink appeared.

      “Are you two ready to order?” snapped a heavyset older woman. He must have scared off the other girl. The one who’d been ready to serve him lunch on a gurney. Well, good. He’d rather be treated this way than have a pity party he didn’t deserve.

      When Kayleigh turned her head, his gaze ran over her delicate profile and the slight jut of her dimpled chin. She looked soft and vulnerable, and the desire to help this girl who’d lost her brother leaped in his chest. But he doused the thought and sipped more water.

      Kayleigh smiled at the waitress. “I’ll have the Five Leaves burger with gruyere cheese and bacon and a side of truffle fries. Oh, and could the cooks whip up some aioli sauce, please? A chef here made it for me once before. It’s just garlic, olive oil, lemon juice and egg yolks. Maybe add a little mustard to spice it up? But the Dijon kind, not yellow. If it’s yellow, then forget it. Please.”

      The older woman blinked at Kayleigh, then shook her head and wrote down the order. He held in a laugh. Her habit of demanding outrageous, off-menu items hadn’t changed. At camp, she’d begged the cooks to make dim sum, offer hummus as a daily side and add Cajun spice to the sour cream on taco days. In college, she’d demanded gravy and cheese with her fries after having the dish on a trip to Canada. The cafeteria workers had scrambled out of the way whenever she’d headed down the food line.

      The server finished scribbling then turned his way, her expression hostile. “And you?”

      “The plain burger, medium-rare, and a side salad.”

      “Coming up.” The waitress grabbed their menus without refilling Niall’s glass and marched away.

      “Friendly,” he drawled. “She’d be a shoo-in for Miss Congeniality.”

      Kayleigh’s laugh spilled from her like a shower of silver coins. “You’re terrible.” She took a sip of her drink, then another and another until half of it disappeared before she set it down. Wow. He’d nearly forgotten Kayleigh’s ferocious appetite, and thirst, always a shock given her petite frame.

      She pointed her straw at him. “I mean it. And you probably scared our first waitress out of her station.”

      “If you can’t take the heat, stay in the kitchen.”

      Kayleigh rolled her eyes. “We’ll apologize when we go and leave her a separate tip for taking our drink order.”

      He warmed to her, the familiar tendrils of their old friendship drawing him closer. But he forced himself to stay guarded. “Fine. We’ll leave the tip. MaryAnne mentioned that you’d left your job and—” His voice dropped away as he studied her bare left hand. Another man had put a ring there. Strange how much that irritated him.

      “Yes.” Kayleigh cut into the awkward silence, her face glum. “I’ve been interviewing and making cold calls for weeks, but so far, nothing.”

      “But you’ve been a software designer for the top app producer in the country. Genesis Software Innovations, right?” His fingers swiped through the condensation on his glass. “You’re a top candidate.”

      When she banged down her drink, the fluid sloshed up the sides of the glass. “My ex-fiancé, Brett, is spreading the word that I’m trouble in the workplace. He was my boss.”

      “He blames you for the breakup?” Niall pictured finding the jerk and beating some sense into him. Not that it was any of his business, but old habits die hard.

      Her eyes narrowed. “Yes. Though he’s the one who cheated.”

      He sucked in a harsh breath. “What an idiot. He lost the best thing he ever had.”

      A slow smile dawned and stole his breath. “Thank you, Niall.” Then she sobered. “But we weren’t compatible. Do you remember those lists we made at camp after my mother called about the divorce? We called them Must Traits, all the traits our partner must have in order to be compatible.”

      His heart skittered sideways. “Yes,” he responded, remembering that evening by the lake, the night he hadn’t wanted to end.

      “If I’d used it with Brett, I never would have dated him in the first place. You know how honesty is in my top-five Must Traits for the perfect match? Well, Brett cheated at cards. That should have been a red flag. And he bypassed me for leadership positions...and being supportive is—”

      “Number three,” Niall broke in, recalling her list. All fifty items on it.

      She pointed her straw at him, her eyes alight. “Yes! And being

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