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  She liked the easy banter they shared.

  If it was easy, it wasn’t a threat or a concern. She couldn’t have anyone pressuring her like Matthew did, or she’d run the opposite direction – and the one thing she didn’t want to do was run from Brandon!

  Climbing into her black pickup truck, she grinned happily as she remembered how he’d rolled right over the curb. It wasn’t because he couldn’t drive, but rather his skills were rusty from lack of use. She imagined that he didn’t get to drive much overseas.

  Pulling into the parking lot, Tabitha was stunned to see that it was crammed full of cars. It appeared that half the town was here at the church. Several police cars were present, with a limo waiting patiently up front for after the wedding. She was stunned to have seen that the reception was a small gathering at the VFW hall in town two blocks over.

  Putting the truck into park, she tossed her sunglasses onto the dash and hopped down. Straightening her skirt, she felt extremely exposed and feminine. She always wore dress pants at the school or jeans. The Elsa costume was the first time she’d worn a dress in years… and now this.

  Her dress was one she’d picked up at the local mall. It was a simple yellow dress that had a fitted waist and a skirt that flared out. She’d found a pair of black pumps that were padded on the inside, making it something she could wear repeatedly for work. Her keys were tucked in a small drawstring bag that looped over her wrist, making her feel like a feminine pinup model from the fifties.

  As she walked towards the church doors, she caught a glimpse of Brandon. His dress uniform looked extremely crisp, the dark colors flattering. His pants had a crease running down the front center of his leg and she knew once he took off his jacket, his shirt would have the three creases that were regulation. She remembered how she hated pressing her own uniform and smiled.

  “At ease, soldier. You’ve passed inspection.”

  “You certainly do too,” Brandon smiled, looking at her before pulling a box out from behind his back. “But you are missing something.”

  Tabitha looked down at the cellophane box in surprise.

  He’d bought her a corsage?

  Brandon didn’t say a word, he just came down the steps towards her and opened the box. Her breath froze in her chest and her heart hammered as he pinned it to the strap of her dress, his fingers accidently touching the skin.

  “There,” he said gruffly, clearing his throat. “Now we can go in.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You are very welcome.”

  He held out his arm politely, smiling easily at her.

  As they stepped inside, she couldn’t help the feeling of awe as she stared at the interior. The church was covered in roses. Each pew had a cluster of flowers attached to it with large swags of tulle between the benches, as if to gate off the aisle. They entered a pew up front that was reserved. She saw several men were dressed in their uniforms, some military and some police officers.

  Leia and Lily leaned forward and waved happily at them.

  Brandon looked at Tabitha with a wry smile and arched eyebrow.

  “Is it bad for me to say that I’m glad they are over there and we are over here?” he whispered mischievously, his brown eyes dancing.

  “Not if I agree with you,” she admitted softly, muffling a laugh.

  “Are they trying to set you up too?”

  “Isn’t that what this is?” she mocked, seeing the teasing expression in his eyes as he looked at her.

  “I was pretty sure it was,” Brandon admitted, turning to wave at Lily once again and giving her a thumbs up, “and so far, I’m okay with it. I’ll take a true friend any day of the week.”

  “Such glib flattery from you will go straight to my head, soldier. I guess I’ll live,” Tabitha uttered, holding the back of her wrist to her forehead for dramatic effect.

  “Sit down, Mason.”

  “Aye, Aye.”

  Brandon grinned at her, taking a seat beside her.

  The music started and they quickly rose to their feet, looking at each other in surprise as they were almost late to the wedding. A sweet little toddler walked down the aisle, grabbing fistfuls of petals and trying to put them in her mouth. A woman escaped from one of the benches in order to instruct her to throw them down. Tabitha recognized her and knew she was one of the wives that had been at the barbeque and Marigold’s surprise wedding.

  The bride appeared as the music increased in crescendo.

  As she stepped forward, Tabitha unexpectedly felt her eyes burn with tears of joy for the couple. She watched as she stepped forward, her dress a mass of satin and tulle, simple in design. A single gossamer veil lay gracefully over her face, held into place with a sparkling comb. As she neared the front of the church, her groom stepped forward.

  It was easy to see that they loved each other.

  A handkerchief was handed to her unexpectedly, appearing out of the corner of her eye, and touching her shoulder. Tabitha glanced up to see Brandon staring straight ahead, unmoving, his throat working several times as he swallowed. She gratefully accepted the handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  He nodded silently.

  She marveled at the kind man beside her, realizing that he was just as touched by the ceremony as she was. Tabitha listened to their vows, and as their voices caught, she felt herself tear up again. Brandon turned to smile gently at her and nodded again, a silent kinship between fast-growing friends.

  As the ceremony ended, everyone filed out and Tabitha started to hand the handkerchief back to Brandon.

  “Go ahead and keep it.”

  “It’s just a few tears, I promise, no boogies,” she teased as he threw back his head and laughed. “C’mon and I’ll give you a ride to the reception.”

  “I can ride with Marigold and Ben, if you want.”

  “Ugh please. I can’t let my date for the evening be caught with another woman. There are protocols for this kind of thing, you know.”

  “Understood, Mason,” Brandon grinned.

  They were at the reception within a few minutes as the police blocked off traffic. She saw Lily’s husband John at one point, waving on vehicles, and quickly waved hello out the window. He smiled and waved back. Pulling up, she could hear the music playing softly in the distance and smiled.

  “Ohhhh wow. Someone’s got good taste in classical music. That’s Mendelssohn and a favorite of mine.”

  “It’s pretty,” Brandon agreed. “I forgot you were a music teacher.”

  “Oh? How’d you know that?”

  “Lily.”

  The two laughed easily and shared a pointed look.

  “She’s really trying, isn’t she?”

  “It’s because I asked her repeatedly to find me a pen-pal.”

  “Why is that?” Tabitha asked, curious. Why exactly did someone ask for a pen-pal? Was he lonely? “If you wanted or needed more communication, why didn’t you just call someone or reach out to your family?”

  “Because I’m just really tired of being alone,” he admitted, looking away. “I know we joked about being set up, and it’s okay if we are just friends, but I don’t want you to feel weird or pressured for more. I’m just some lonely soldier stuck in the middle of nowhere and just want someone to talk to that I know is on my side, you know?”

  Tabitha swallowed hard, unsure how to feel or what to say. Was he saying he wasn’t interested in her at all? Why was she surprised by this? She shouldn’t have been alarmed or insulted.

  She was a bit of a tomboy and this wasn’t the first time she’d been turned down by a guy. She obviously wasn’t his type if he liked little curly blonde women like Marigold – she just hoped he wasn’t a homewrecker either… or their friendship would be over. She hoped she wasn’t reading him wrong, and it was time to play it safe. Maybe he was too sweet, too charismatic, to be true. She obviously wasn’t thinking clearly when he smiled at her.

  “Please… it’s not lik
e I don’t understand. We can be friends and not have any romantic inclinations or attachments. That’s when stuff messes up anyhow, right?” she beamed, nodding at him. A pang of remorse hit her when he smiled easily and let out his breath. He looked relieved at her words.

  Darn! she thought.

  “I just wanted to make that clear before walking in with my dance partner for the evening,” he said, winking at her.

  “Well it should be clear also that I have two left feet,” she countered haughtily with an arched eyebrow. He grinned easily as he wagged his eyebrows at her playfully.

  “Thank God, ‘cause I have two right feet.”

  “Well halleluiah, we just might work out after all, soldier.”

  “Shall we?” Brandon said easily, extending his arm to her in a grand, majestic manner.

  “Let’s show them how it’s done,” Tabitha challenged, winking at him.

  Brandon was sure that he was going to hurt Tabitha’s feelings by telling her that he wanted to be friends. She was so nice, so sweet, and outgoing, that it hurt to think she wasn’t interested in him.

  Some guy was going to meet her some day and he would really get a keeper, he mused. It was a shame it just wasn’t going to be him. He wanted someone that set his blood on fire and intrigued him. Tabitha was just about the best friend he could have ever asked for.

  He looked at her, laughing, as they both attempted the dance move called the Robot on the floor among the crowd. They both looked like scarecrows with broken limbs. When he told her as much, she’d burst out laughing and he’d high-fived her before letting his arm flop to the side again, causing a second fit of shared giggles between them.

  “You want some punch?” she asked him, grinning.

  “Love some,” he admitted, yanking off his tie because he was sweating from exertion. “It’s a little stuffy in here and I could use something cool.”

  They grabbed two cups of punch and two slices of cake, heading towards a table on the edge of the dance floor. He watched as she easily kicked off her shoes and tucked her feet underneath the chair. He wished he could do the same right now.

  “I’m jealous,” he teased, taking a bite of cake.

  “I probably shouldn’t do this, but they are killing me. Why do fancy shoes pinch so much at the toes?”

  “Mine are rubbing a spot on my heel right now and I’m trying to ignore it.”

  “Kick’ em off,” she suggested immediately, brightening up. “If we are both barefoot or you’re in black socks… who’s gonna know? Live a little.”

  “We’ll know,” he laughed, stunned.

  “What color are your socks?”

  “Black.”

  “Exactly. So, unless someone happens to look down at your feet, no one will really notice or pay attention – besides, you are here with all your friends. Do you really think they would say anything about you being out of uniform?”

  “No.”

  “You might be a trendsetter, soldier.”

  “I don’t know…”

  “Kick them off, eat the cake, let’s dance, and live a little.”

  Brandon grinned at her, leaning down to pull at his laces on his dress shoes. He couldn’t help but feel mischievous at the taunting look in her bright eyes. It was like she was challenging him to chicken out and he wasn’t about to back down.

  “How’s your piece of cake?” he asked, picking up his fork.

  “Spectacular and I wish I had a piece twice this size. There’s raspberry jelly crammed in-between the layers and I have a huge thing for raspberries,” Tabitha admitted, taking a large bite.

  “I bet there’s another slice in the future for my barefoot girl.”

  “There might be,” she agreed, holding her fork up to her forehead in mock salute. “I may indulge and skip dinner all together.”

  “Flour, eggs, butter… and fruit. It’s a perfectly healthy meal,” he teased, seeing her smile. Perking up, he heard the strains to his favorite Guns ‘N Roses ballad beginning. “Ohhh let’s dance to this and we’ll grab another slice.”

  “You drive a hard bargain, soldier,” Tabitha said, putting her hand in his. He led her to the dance floor and then sobered for a moment, awkwardly putting his arms around her for the slow song. She felt good in his arms; relaxed, not strained. It was like being held by someone that just understood him – with no pressure.

  “Thank you for being my dance partner,” he whispered softly, only to have her nod against his shoulder.

  “Thank you for not stepping on my feet,” she countered playfully.

  “Ditto,” he chuckled.

  The lilting music he felt deep in his soul, closing his eyes as he held her. The tiny steps just seemed to glide effortlessly and he couldn’t help the sigh of contentment that escaped him.

  “You okay?” she asked quietly, looking up at him.

  “Yeah, I was just thinking this was so nice. Probably the most enjoyment I’ve ever had at one of these things…you know? There’s usually all this pressure, all this ‘front’ that you put up to impress people, and I feel like I’m finally getting to be just me. I’m so glad we’re becoming friends.”

  “Me too,” she nodded, her face unreadable.

  “Tabby,” he asked and corrected himself quickly, “Tabitha…”

  “You can call me Tabby.”

  “Tabby…” he repeated, smiling gently. “I really like you.”

  “I like you too.”

  “Let’s make a crazy pact,” Brandon said suddenly, surprising himself. “I like how easy we get along and if we are both still single a few years from now, why don’t we try and give it a go.”

  “A go?”

  “You know,” he hesitated, feeling suddenly nervous. “If we are both still single in three years, let’s get married.”

  “WHAT?”

  “Hear me out-and I feel weird even saying this- but people that get along well come to develop an affinity for each other… a respect or fondness. I think you are great and I could do so much worse in my life.”

  “Oh, stop with the flattery,” she said flatly, stopping dancing and staring at him, frowning.

  “It’s not an insult, Tabby.”

  “Maybe we should go back to you calling me Tabitha?”

  “I’m serious – and it will probably never happen ‘cause you are so nice and some guy will snatch you right up… but we could pledge to get married and live our lives as the best of friends for the rest of our lives. There could be cake, barefoot dancing, and you could pick on my driving for the rest of your life.”

  “There’s the charmer I admire,” she rolled her eyes.

  Brandon pulled her against him, picking her up and swinging her around effortlessly. She looked stunned and surprised, her nose inches from his. His eyes were beautiful up close with such long lashes.

  “Would it be so bad, Tabby-girl?”

  “Three years?” she hesitated, staring into his eyes. He saw the confusion, hope, and something else.

  “I think three years would give us both time to meet other people and if we come back to this, it’s because we realize that we want more than just some romp. We need someone we can appreciate and trust.”

  “Three years and you’re mine?” she repeated, looking stunned.

  Brandon smiled softly, seeing her bite her lip. Unexpectedly, he found himself looking at her with opening eyes. She was kinda pretty and there might be something special between them someday.

  “Yes ma’am,” he affirmed quietly. “Three years and you are mine.”

  This is utterly insane, Tabitha thought wildly as she stared down at the man she had a terrible crush on. He’d blindsided her completely by the unexpected declaration from him. He wanted to give it a go between them if he couldn’t find anyone else? While she should be insulted or angry… part of her found that she was hoping he would ‘settle’ for her.

  Everything he said made complete sense in a weird way.

  Couples could be friends, and they did g
et along so well. She hoped that someday she would find a man that loved her and got along with her – but what if it came in a different order? What if they were friends first and developed a tenderness later in life? Would she be happy with a mild passion between her husband and her?

  If it was Brandon Tobin… and he smiled at her like he was now?

  Absolutely.

  Chapter 4

  Ghazni, Afghanistan

  Brandon stared at the throng of people milling about in the streets of town. They’d been sent in to follow hostiles that they’d chased from the hills after detonating two handmade bombs. This was utterly ridiculous and a stupid move to chase the enemy into their own territory.

  Hadn’t anyone studied history lessons?

  People tend to lose the war, long before the battle is fought, because they don’t have the advantage. This was their world, their land, and he stuck out like a sore thumb… not just because he was military. It was because he didn’t fit and he was an intruder.

  Something they would never, ever, let him forget.

  People walked past, yelling curses at him in another language as he stood there looking for Parker, Hopkins, Smith, or Hood. Where had they disappeared and where was the truck?

  The hair stood on the back of his neck as he realized that the people who were talking nastily to him were melding into the fray that was quickly closing around him.

  “Please step back,” Brandon bit out. He was trying to fight the panic building in him as he realized that they’d been deliberately led into a trap and separated for a reason.

  “Parker? Hopkins? Guys?” he called out over his shoulder.

  Silence from his team.

  Brandon reached down and grabbed the mic clipped to his shirt, pressing the lever and speaking quickly, hoping they could hear him. This was a terrible, terrible idea to follow them into town! The massive adobe structures and brick buildings around them were reverberating noise, making it hard to distinguish what sounds were coming from where.

  His heart began to pound as faces began to appear in front of his. Hateful looks, angry glares; one person spat on him. Brandon backed away quickly, wiping at his face in growing horror.