Cheryl Wyatt - Soldier Daddy

He peered around the neglected neighborhood. Same area where Celia Munez, now Peña, wife of team member Manny, lost her first husband. He was killed here during a drug bust years prior to her meeting Manny. The team had talked of ways to reach out to the area’s gang-prone teens and their families.

“This isn’t exactly the safest part of town.”

“I figured that out. I plan to get a better place. I just wanted to wait until…”

Her voice trailed but he knew her thoughts. She wanted to wait to see if she got this position as his boys’ nanny, for if she did, she’d have a place to live. But until he was one hundred percent certain she was it, he couldn’t give her false hope. Still, he hated for a young woman like her to be living in a place like this.

“I’m sure you’ll find something better soon.” He offered a reassuring smile.

She studied his face, then nodded. Yet her uncertain expression suggested she held doubt over getting the job.

Throat cleared, he hesitated a moment, deciding how best to word this. “I’m not that good at telling people how I feel. I’m better at giving orders and controlling insubordination.” He cleared his throat again. “But I just wanted to say thanks.”

“For?”

“Yesterday. I’ve never seen my children laugh that hard for that long. Ever.”

She looked momentarily disturbed. Same way he felt.

“Whatever you brought to our home that day, Sarah, don’t ever lose that in your life. No matter how things work out with us, I mean, with this job.”

She nodded. He was surprised to see moisture sheen her eyes. He stuffed his hands deeper in his pockets to keep from tending to the lone tear streaking down her face. The back of her hand swiped it away like a pesky mosquito. Fidgety, she gathered gobs of that overgrown eyesore of a sweater and twisted its hem in her small hands. Her frazzled mood matched the sweater. She didn’t seem the type to cry. So why did she?

He shifted his feet, which ached to go to her. “What did I say that upset you?”

Her shoulders rose then drooped. “It just seemed the kind of speech a person gets before they get let go, is all.”

Did she not know? Letting her go was the last thing on his mind right now. Seeing her luminous eyes and lips swollen with emotion and the way moonlight played with hair as shiny as gold…

He swallowed. “I have no reason to think you won’t get the job. But I also live under the logic that if something seems too good to be true, it probably is.”

She gave an unexpected laugh. “In other words, you’re looking for my fatal flaw?”

“Guess so. I like your bluntness, by the way.”

“I prefer to think of it as transparency.” Her smile faded and her eyes dimmed. “I am flawed, Aaron. But I’ve learned and grown from the mistakes of my youth. Some really big mistakes.”

“We all have.” He shifted. “And you’re still young.”

“Which means I’ll make more mistakes?”

“No, I meant that…I guess I’m not sure what I meant.”

“If you choose to trust me, you won’t be sorry. But if this isn’t meant to be, then there’s someone better for your family. Trust your judgment.”

He nodded, amazed at the level of wisdom riding her young words and the power of conviction driving them. Whether she ended up being their nanny or not, this was an extraordinary woman. One he’d not soon forget if things didn’t work out.

“Now, get back to those beautiful boys and watch them sleep. Give Mina my regards.” She stepped back toward the concrete landing that ran flush with the drab units.

At the sudden proximal distance, Aaron experienced a dip of disappointment. Surprised himself with acknowledgment that once here, he didn’t want to leave her presence.

The way she paused and tapped her toe on rotting boards meant to be someone’s lame attempt at landscaping, maybe she felt the same.

September’s late evening breeze lifted silken hair off slender shoulders and swirled fallen multicolored leaves behind her. Stepping away from the wood and onto the gravel lot toward him again, she rubbed her arms. “Chilly for fall.”

“I think we’re expecting a harsh winter. I should let you get inside out of the cold. Again, sorry about the phone.”

“No need to apologize. I understand.”

He backed up a step and tried to think of something intelligent to say to exit the conversation, but his brain felt first-date awkward. Weird. “So, I’ll be in touch.”

“I hope so.”

Aaron turned to go with her softly spoken words streaming across his heart, slipping past barriers he’d spent years steel-bolting against such feminine wiles. Yet he was certain she had no idea the effect she stirred in him. How her voice melted the metal off the chains around his heart. Guileless. Words issued one breath beyond a whisper. Yet her honesty gushed. And it echoed his thoughts right now.

I hope so, too.

At the concrete bumper near the gravel lot, he paused to look over his shoulder.

And found her, arms crossed over her belly, watching him. Half hunched over, almost as though in pain.

Yet she smiled. Or tried to, with a dreamy expression she seemed pained to carry.

Why on earth would it hurt someone to dream? To hope?

He knew why.

Because dreams could die when dashed and shattered hope could slice like shards of broken glass.

And suddenly he recognized the look in her eyes.

Because he’d seen it in the mirror every day for years.

The look of a tempest-tossed person who’d been sloshed overboard by life’s most wretched waves and nearly taken out.

He knew his.

What had been her storm?

And why was he standing here staring as if desperate to draw it out of her? He became fully cognizant of how Sarah shifted beneath his gaze, as if she was growing uncomfortable under the weight of it.

Yet she didn’t look away either.

What on earth was this sea-size magnetic pull?

And would it fade? Remain the same? Or grow strong enough to weather life’s storms?

As if sensing the draw, too, Sarah shifted and stepped back—almost stumbled—until sharp edges of moonlight carved her face into shadows.

With a slightly awkward wave, she turned. Jogged up the steps.

But he remained.

She all but melted into the safety of her open door, yet didn’t close it. Nervous fingers tugging at frayed ends of the multicolored hobo sweater’s sleeves, she faced him again.

He nodded at her and turned to go. And was immediately accosted by a revelation that suggested an old war-torn Army tent never looked so good. Thoughts and images assaulted his every step. Even that bulky, unattractive sweater hadn’t been able to hide her physical beauty, which he felt guilty to find so appealing.

There was something refreshing and attractive about a courageous woman. One who said how she felt and what she thought and didn’t waver on what she wanted. Or feel the need to hide the fact from others.

And just as soon as his mouth caught up to his brain and figured out how to execute speech again, he’d tell Sarah so.

And another thing…Aaron issued himself mental reprimands while crunching across loose gravel. When she’d said she hoped so, his mind took it the wrong way. Clearly, she wanted to be a nanny to his boys. And clearly her statement had nothing to do with her hoping on a personal level that he’d be in touch.

Right?

At his SUV, he turned to wave, and caught the bolts of attraction flashing back and forth between them. Okay, so maybe he hadn’t imagined it. Maybe this fizzing connection did run both ways.

Which could be detrimental to them all. Especially his boys, should they get attached and Sarah bail if something went awry. Aaron eyed the neighborhood, then intently held her gaze.