The Returning Hero - Soraya Lane

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third wheel. “You guys just hang out. You don’t need to ask me along.”

      Brett put his hand over the phone and leaned toward her, eyes never leaving hers. “Please come,” he said, reaching for her with his other hand, fingers closing over hers. “I’ll pick you up on my way and drop you at your door at the end of the night. Come out and have fun, we both want to take you out.”

      She looked from his eyes to his fingers over hers, wished that it was just a platonic gesture, that his skin against hers wasn’t sending a shiver up and down her spine.

      “Okay,” she said, not needing any more convincing.

      Brett grinned and pulled away, leaning back in his chair again and discussing details with Logan. She was pleased their coffees arrived at the same time as he hung up, needing something to distract her. Somehow she’d gone from hanging out with her husband’s friend, to being on edge about agreeing to a night out. It was only supposed to be an evening with friends, so why was her stomach twisting like she was going on a first date?

      “Sugar?”

      Jamie nodded and reached for it, careful not to touch Brett’s hand again.

      “So Logan’s back for a while, too?” she asked.

      “He’s still working, but he’s based in Australia indefinitely.”

      “And you’re sure he was okay about me tagging along on a boys’ night?”

      Brett cut the chocolate peppermint slice into two pieces and nudged one in her direction. “Since when are you not allowed to tag along on a boys’ night? I don’t recall Sam ever leaving you at home when we used to catch up.”

      “True.” Brett was right, she had always hung out with them. But now that it was just her, she didn’t want them feeling sorry for her and feeling like they had to include her.

      “When was the last time you went out?” he asked.

      “Can I pass on that question?” Jamie laughed and took a bite of the slice. “It’s been a while.”

      “If another guy so much as looks at you he’ll have me to deal with, so you’re in safe hands.”

      Jamie picked at some chocolate and then took a sip of coffee, because she didn’t want to make eye contact with Brett. There was only one guy she was worried about, and he was sitting directly across from her. He might trust himself, but she wasn’t entirely sure that her thoughts were as pure.

      CHAPTER THREE

      JAMIE PADDED BAREFOOT into the kitchen and fed Bear. She poured herself a glass of water and leaned on the counter, slowly drinking it, concentrating on the cool liquid and how it felt as she swallowed. It was the only thing she could think of to calm her nerves, other than going for a run, and after the time she’d spent in the shower and doing her hair, she had no intention of getting sweaty.

      What was she doing?

      It wasn’t the fact that she was going out that was making her feel guilty, because she was in desperate need of doing something fun that got her out of the house. Her problem was that she couldn’t stop thinking about Brett, and it was making her feel things that she had no right to feel.

      She’d dolled herself up, made more of an effort than she had in months to look good, and it was Brett she was trying to impress. It was as if all the years of flirting had finally caught up with them, and with Sam not here, things were starting to feel awkward, fast. Or maybe not so much awkward as exciting.

      “Brett is forbidden. Brett is my friend,” she muttered, realizing that she was looking at her dog as if he were part of the conversation. “Tell me I’m crazy, Bear. I’m crazy, aren’t I?”

      He just stared up at her, pausing, before going back to eating his dinner.

      Jamie sighed and dumped her water glass in the sink before walking back to her bedroom and looking at the clothes she’d thrown on the bed. She had her little black dress, a pair of satin pants and a sexy top, and her favorite skinny jeans. She reached for the dress and held it up, looking at her reflection in the floor-length mirror behind the door.

      She wanted to wear the dress. She wanted to make Brett notice her. She wanted to feel sexy.

      Jamie stripped down to her underwear and slipped on the dress. She was about to reach for a pair of five-inch black heels that she’d never worn before, that were just stuck in her closet, when her hand stopped moving. Everything stopped. Because just above her shoe rack, hanging on a little hook, was her husband’s dog tag on its silver chain.

      Jamie slowly reached for it, fingers clasping the cool metal, tracing over the tag that she’d spent so many hours staring at since he’d gone. The same tag that she’d often touched when they’d been lying together, in bed on a lazy morning....

      “If anything ever happened to you, would they give me this?”

      Sam frowned. “Nothing’s going to happen to me, baby, but yeah. They would.”

      She reached for it again, turning it over and reading the inscription out aloud. “Samuel Harvey Mattheson. O positive.”

      “Are you going to recite all my vitals, too?”

      Jamie lay her head on Sam’s bare chest, still holding his tag as she shut her eyes.

      “Don’t ever leave me, Sam. You have to promise to come home.”

      He kissed the top of her head. “Baby, I’m coming home. Haven’t I always told you that nothing could keep me away from you?”

      “How can you be so sure?” She kissed his chest, lips against his warm skin, before moving up and kissing his mouth, trying to stop tears from falling down her cheeks and onto his face.

      “If I don’t, then promise me you’ll wear this. I don’t ever want you to forget me, Jamie....”

      Jamie had sunk to the floor, tears pricking her eyes then falling in a slow, steady trickle down her cheeks and into her mouth. What was she doing? How could she even be thinking about Brett like she had been? What was wrong with her?

      But she knew. Deep down, she knew.

      There had been a spark between her and Brett for years, a spark that could have easily turned into something more if they’d met at the right time, and now he was here and she was a widow. Her feelings were only natural. But they were also wrong. Being lonely wasn’t an excuse to give in to any of those feelings, not now, not ever.

      Jamie reached back up for the tag and took it down, slipping it around her neck. She needed Sam close to her, wanted him close to her, and she was upset that she’d forgotten the promise she’d made to him that she’d wear it.

      She also slipped back out of the dress, suddenly not wanting to make Brett notice her like that. She reached for her skinny jeans instead, paired them with heels and pulled a scoop-neck tank over her head. Jamie finished the look with a biker-style leather jacket and hoop earrings, before going back into the bathroom to fix her makeup. She smoothed foundation over her tearstains, put on some more mascara and touched up her lip gloss, before running a hand through her smooth hair—courtesy of her straightening iron.

      When the doorbell rang and Bear started barking, she took one final look in the mirror and kissed Sam’s dog tag.

      Tonight, he was with her, looking out for her, just like his friends were. She couldn’t stop her feelings for Brett, but she could stop herself from acting on them.

      “Bear, it’s just Brett again.”

      He stopped barking as soon as she spoke, but he stayed by her side as she opened the door, like he had no intention of not protecting her, even if he wasn’t allowed to bark.

      “Hey,” she said, opening the door to find him standing a few steps back from the door, hands jammed in his jean pockets.

      “Hey,”

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