#cominghomeseries #homefront #grumpysunshine #secondchanceromance #bookstagram #bookstagrammer #angstyromance #booksofinstagram #booknerd #romancereads #romancebooks #contemporaryromance #booktok #militaryromance #bookofthemonth #goodreads #tbr #netflixbooks #netflixromance #passionflix #virginriver #sullivanscrossing
SALE ENDS MARCH 11!
BOOK OF THE MONTH: HOMEFRONT: CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER THREE
Gale had done dumber things in his life. But at that moment, he was having a hard time remembering any. Oh he’d had a plan. It had involved apologizing and trying to explain. As half-assed plans went, it wasn’t the worst idea ever. But after seeing Mel earlier, he realized he was letting fear rule his life. He’d wasted far too much time already.
He wasn’t really sure what his reception would be.
Okay, that was a lie. He was pretty sure Mel was going to take one look at him and rip his spine out because he hadn’t called first. He’d be lucky if she let him explain before having his ass carted off to jail. And wouldn’t that be a joy to tell Captain Teague or Sarn’t Major Cox?
He’d been sitting in the cul de sac near her house for the past hour, unable to get that morning out of his head. Replaying it over and over again. He’d almost driven away. Twice.
Then he got sick of himself for being such a damned coward.
Now that he was here, he had no idea what to do.
They both stood there on either side of the door and neither of them said a damn thing.
Melanie hadn’t moved. There was no expression in her eyes. No anger. No hate. None of the potent, violent emotions that had slammed into him across the miles and the years when he’d told her he wasn’t going to be able to come home and help with Jamie.
What do you mean, you’re not coming?
You didn’t request my presence, Mel. They’re not letting me.
Your daughter is in the hospital and because I didn’t write the words “I request your presence,” they won’t let you come home?
Why didn’tyou write the fucking words?
He shoved the memory away violently. He couldn’t face that day again. Not now. Maybe not ever.
Now, there was nothing but cool detachment looking back at him.
A cool detachment that flooded the dead space inside him and tried to make him feel. Tried and failed. Frozen. He was frozen. His heart pounded in his ears. All he could do was stare at the woman his ex-wife had become.
Time hadn’t changed the shape of her face or the curves of her body. She’d cut her hair. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the soft sleek dark hair brushing her shoulders. He remembered it being longer.
It was so much easier to distract himself with how she’d changed than to face the reality of the time that had passed between them and everything he’d missed along the way. He’d seen Jamie before he left on that last deployment but that had been almost three years ago now. Three years was a long time to not see your daughter.
It wasn’t nearly long enough for him to get over just how badly he’d fucked up. As a husband. As a father.
There was nothing he could do to make things right. There was no success as a soldier that could make up for those other failures.
He knew that now. After years of hoping to unfuck things, he’d finally accepted there was nothing he could do to undo the damage he’d done. He’d given the Army everything he’d had.
And he could never get that back.
The war, work – all of it was a convenient excuse for being a shitty father and a terrible ex-husband.
He swallowed the dryness in his mouth and shoved his hands in his pockets because he didn’t know what else to do with them. “Hi, Melanie.”
And wasn’t that fucking eloquent? Christ.
“Daddy?” A squeal from the kitchen. “Daddy!”
Jamie bolted toward him from across the house. She rushed past Mel and into his arms, and Gale found himself hugging someone who was no longer a little girl.
“Hey, Peanut.” He breathed in the scent of her hair. His daughter. His eyes burned. He’d almost lost her.
His arms tightened a little more as the memory of helpless agony and regret crashed over him. He bit back the emotion, refusing to let his daughter see him cry.
He set her back to look at her. She was taller now, her hair long and straight and dark. But most importantly, she was healthy. And whole.
She looked so much like Melanie when they’d been younger.
“You’re all grown up.” His voice was thick. She was no longer the little kid with too much leg that he’d taken to the Dallas Zoo when she’d been nine. To the San Antonio Zoo when she’d been eleven. He could still feel Jamie’s little fingers curled around his hand when she’d been little enough to look up to her dad with adoration in her eyes that he’d done nothing to deserve. That little girl was long gone, now.
He hadn’t spent nearly enough time with that little kid and now she was all grown up into the beautiful young woman standing in front of him.
Jamie practically vibrated with excitement. “I can’t believe you’re here! Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” She rounded on her mother. “You didn’t tell him he couldn’t come, did you?”
Melanie flinched beneath her daughter’s verbal assault. In that brief moment, he saw the tired lines around her mouth, the fatigue in her eyes, and he wanted to ask what was wrong.
Instead, he focused on Jamie.
“I didn’t tell her I was coming.” He took a deep breath, taking the edge out of his voice. “And don’t talk to your mother that way.”
Jamie rolled her eyes but kept smiling at him. “Sure, Dad. Whatever. Are you staying for dinner? Please say yes.”
Gale looked at Melanie and held his breath. Melanie didn’t look irritated. She looked…tired, more than anything.
Gale swallowed. He’d made things worse by coming here tonight. Granted, he’d had a shitty plan in the first place but things were rapidly going to hell. He took a step backward. “I’m sorry, Mel. I’ll… Give me a call and let me know when a better time is?”
She met his gaze silently. Across the gulf that spanned the distance between them, for one brief moment, he saw the girl she’d been: carefree and daring and full of life. The lines around her mouth had been from smiles once, her eyes bright and shining and laughing.
But that girl was gone now. Vanished beneath the smooth mask of polished professional Mel. She shifted subtly and the illusion vanished, leaving the harsh reality of their lives standing between them.
“There’s never a good time around here,” she said mildly before she headed back toward the kitchen. “You can stay if you’d like.”
Gale stepped into her home. She’d painted since the last time he’d been here. There was a new rug in the living room and a big picture of a faded, black and white barn with a bright red door. Dark cherry hardwood gleamed beneath his dusty boots. The furniture was something heavy and solid. He guessed their old raggedy secondhand rocking chair was nowhere to be found.
He felt out of place, but what did he expect? This was Melanie’s space, Melanie’s life.
He wasn’t a part of it.
He walked into the kitchen, not wanting to get caught mentally inventorying her place. Mel stood by the stove and Jamie leaned on the counter, moving a wine glass out of the way. Gale had half a thought that Jamie couldn’t be drinking. Mel wouldn’t allow that. Right?
“So when did you get in?” Jamie asked.
“A few months ago. I was getting settled before I called.”
“Glad to see we’re a priority in your life,” Jamie said dryly.
He ignored the arched eyebrow Mel shot in his direction before she turned away. He supposed he deserved that. He looked around for anything to talk about. Damn it, when had he become so inept?
“You are.” The words were flat and lifeless. Hollow. His gaze landed on a biology textbook on the table and he seized on it as an excuse to talk about anything other than why he hadn’t come by sooner. “You’re taking biology?”
“She’sfailingbiology.” In went the macaroni to the water and Gale didn’t miss the emphasis on “failing.” Steam rose over the pan but Mel didn’t turn around.
“Biology is so boring,” Jamie said, not trying to keep her mother from hearing her complaint.
Gale glanced at Mel and didn’t miss the tense set of her shoulders. Her back was stick straight.
“You need to do well in school, kiddo. You want to go to college, right?”
Jamie rolled her eyes. “Yeah, sure.”
“No idea what you want to be when you grow up?” Gale said, leaning over to look at the papers scattered near her book. He wasn’t sure if it was supposed to be homework or what, but he could tell that it was an unorganized disaster. His need for organization started pinging and he fought the urge to sort through the pages.
“Not really. I mean, I think I want to go into journalism, maybe. I like writing. And honestly, when am I ever going to use this stuff in real life?”
“Writing is an important life skill.” Gale stuffed his hands into his pockets. “But I used biology all the time in Iraq.”
Jamie’s eyes went wide with curiosity. “Really? How?”
“Biology was actually important over there. We had to watch out for different viruses and bacteria in the food. The feral animals are all vectors—”
Jamie’s face lit up. “Oh, I know what that is. It’s something that transmits a disease, isn’t it?”
Gale saw Melanie glance over at their daughter. Her expression was slightly more relaxed now but guarded. Why could he do nothing right with her? Then again, maybe showing up on her doorstep at dinnertime unannounced was a bad place to start if you wanted not to piss off your ex.
Yeah, he had the shitty ex-husband role down to a T. He should probably count himself lucky that she’d let him in the house to begin with.
“Yeah. See? Real world biology.” Mel pulled the milk out of the fridge. Gale badly needed something to do other than stand there. It felt strange and out of place to have her cooking with him just standing there. He took a step closer. “Is there anything I can do?”
She paused, her deep blue eyes hesitant. Not angry, though, so he supposed that was a start. “It’s boxed macaroni and cheese.” Mild words belied the edge beneath them.
Gale opened his mouth to speak then snapped it closed. He couldn’t blame her. He should have called first.
Damn it.
Mel stepped away and started mixing the macaroni again as it boiled. He couldn’t say why he was here or what he’d hoped for. It was stupid, really. The truth was he was a better soldier than a husband or father, and he always had been.
Hell, there was a reason why he worked so hard. He was good at the Army. It wasn’t a job to him. It was who he was. It was what he was good at. He knew how to lead soldiers, how to get their confidence up to be the first man in the stack. How to whip their asses when they got arrested for stupid shit, then get them back into shape so they could still go downrange and kick some ass.
Here in Mel’s kitchen, surrounded by the only two women in his life, he felt…awkward.
He didn’t like the feeling. But after the last deployment, he’d made a promise to himself that he was going to get his ass to Hood come hell or high water. He was going to figure out how to be a damn father.
And now that he was here, he had no fucking clue what to do.
CONTINUE READING…
Jessica’s Bookstore | Apple Books | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | Google Play