A Rebel's Promise, page 6
He clenched his jaw so hard pain exploded behind his eyes. She didn’t deserve his justifications. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair. Mason could fill her in if he thought it necessary.
“Excuse me, Katie, right?” Julie’s voice was the last one Gunnar expected to hear at that moment, and he whipped his head to her.
“Yes, Katie Cullens with KUTU.”
“Well, Katie Cullens with KUTU, do you know what a pararescueman is or the qualifications it takes to become one?” Julie’s soft words had Gunnar unfolding his arms and leaning closer.
“No, I don’t.” The first sign of hesitance entered Katie’s tone.
“You question Gunnar’s qualifications? He’s spent the last fifteen years rescuing Seals and Green Berets. The PJ selection process is the hardest training the US military throws at our soldiers. Less than twenty percent ever finish the two years of rigorous training to become a pararescueman. The military call the PJs in when there isn’t any other hope. They’re assigned to special ops teams to come up with solutions if and when missions go sideways.” With each word Julie spoke in his defense, his eyebrows rose in shock. “Not only that, but Gunnar knows mushing better than most racers I know. He was already an expert at wilderness survival before he went into the Air Force. I can only imagine his training increased his expertise exponentially. Before you so carelessly throw out accusations of inexperience, you really need to do your research. Gunnar Rebel is more than qualified to be a member of this expedition, and I’m grateful to have him on the team.”
Julie sat back with a huff, like the rapid release of words exhausted her. Did she really think that, or was she just being the peacekeeper she’d always been? Could it be that she didn’t hate his guts for what he had done to her?
She peeked down the table at him and gave a quick lopsided smile and shrug. He nodded his thanks. It was a small movement, not worthy of the gratitude he felt coursing through him. The gratitude zinged right alongside the small measure of hope her defense of him created.
13
Julie shoved the key to the high school into the lock, still surprised the superintendent had given the five of them full access to the facilities. He had insisted that they were free to use the pool or gym whenever they wanted. At the time, she hadn’t given it much thought except acknowledging how welcoming the community was. Now, when her nervous energy swirled and danced through her veins like the northern lights, she’d be sending the superintendent a big thank you. If she was going to sleep tonight, she had to burn her body to exhaustion, and swimming laps in the pool was the perfect way to do that.
Yanking the door open, she zipped the key back into her purse pocket, made sure the lock latched, then headed down the hall to the pool. Of course, an exhausted body wouldn’t matter one iota if her mind refused to shut down. She still couldn’t believe she’d come to Gunnar’s defense like she had. She didn’t do confrontation, especially not with a camera recording every word. Yet, the more that know-it-all reporter had attacked Gunnar, the more Julie snarled.
How was it she and Gunnar had been apart for fifteen years, not counting their one encounter seven years ago, yet she could still read him like she’d always been able to? He could hide his emotions well, but the tightness in his shoulders before they had made their way to the conference room and the slight tick of his cheek and dart of his eyes to the exits as they’d sat at the table screamed his nervousness. She obviously had been paying too much attention to him. Then, when the reporter had started in with her questions pointed at Gunnar and he hadn’t corrected the lady, all thoughts of idly sitting by and letting Mason do all the talking flew out the window.
Julie had felt Gunnar’s gaze on her as her words had tumbled out faster than her brain could think. His shock and gratitude when she’d dared to glance at him settled the protectiveness that had roared through her into a contented purr in her core. She groaned as the warm feeling returned with just the thought of him and his piercing brown eyes.
How could she still have that reaction after everything that had happened? Yeah, right. Lying to herself never got her anywhere. She’d never stopped loving Gunnar, even when she’d been in relationships with others. Wasn’t that why she was alone? Saylor thought it was Julie’s inability to trust again, which she supposed was partly true.
But the bigger truth, the one Julie had kept inside all these years, was that she still saw his face when she closed her eyes.
Still felt his fingers slide through her hair.
It wouldn’t be fair to start a relationship with anyone else when she still longed for another. Saylor would keel over dead, then come back to haunt Julie if she ever told her cousin. So, Julie kept it all inside. No need to throw Saylor into a conniption over it when there was no chance of changing the status quo.
Only … now there was a chance, wasn’t there?
Julie leaned her shoulder against a trophy case and closed her eyes with a shake of her head. Thoughts like that wouldn’t help her sleep. Thoughts like that wouldn’t help her, period.
Just because Gunnar suddenly showed up, didn’t mean they could start right back where they’d left off. Even if he was interested, she didn’t want that. The memory of how cherished she’d felt in his arms flitted through her mind, calling her a liar … again.
She gritted her teeth and stomped toward the pool.
Memories and longings didn’t matter.
Reality did.
Getting her hopes up that a future waited for her and Gunnar would only lead to more heartache. For both their sakes, she’d leave the past in the past, the good and the bad. She had promised to always be his friend. This expedition was the perfect proving ground for that promise.
Stashing her clothes in the locker room, she snagged the hotel towel and rushed out toward the pool. The sooner she got in the water, the quicker she could work herself to exhaustion. She needed sleep if she was going to be in top shape before they left.
Soft splashes echoed in the cavernous room, drawing her attention to the water. Gunnar glided through the water with sure, smooth strokes, flipped at the opposite wall, then rocketed back toward her. With a groan, her shoulders slumped, though her heart skipped like a startled squirrel, then pounded as fast as excited squirrel chatter.
The universe hated her.
Or God had a twisted sense of humor.
Resigned to the fact that Gunnar wouldn’t be getting out of her head soon, she tossed her towel on the bench next to his and sat on the edge of the pool. She dangled her legs in the water, trying to ignore the increase in her pulse as each stroke brought him closer. Not once did his pace falter. Did he realize she was here? Maybe it’d be better to slip away and let him do his laps in peace.
About halfway across, he disappeared under water. She searched, waiting for him to pop up like a seal, probably on the opposite side, far from her. He came into view, swimming along the bottom of the pool directly toward her.
She clenched her hands around the smooth concrete edge. Her chest weighed a ton as she tried to take a deep breath of chlorine-thick air and calm down. The closer he got, the harder it was to breathe.
This was a mistake.
She should just leave.
No. Avoiding him would only last so long. It’d be better to get this awkwardness over now before they were fighting for their lives on the sea ice.
Gunnar skimmed up the side of the pool. For a second, she thought he’d grab her ankle and pull her in like he used to. She pressed her lips together to stifle the ridiculous disappointment when he didn’t.
He broke the surface, water cascading down his head. It really wasn’t fair that he still looked like some sea god. If merpeople existed, he’d be their king. He wiped a hand down his face and held on to the side of the pool with the other.
The heaviness of being here with him, of seeing him healthy and alive after so many years of wondering, threatened to push her into the water and drown her. She’d been a fool to think she’d ever get over him, but he didn’t need the tension that her inability to move on would cause.
He already struggled around others. She could tell by the way he always looked like a jack-in-the-box coiled too tight. Something had happened to him while he was deployed. Maybe lots of somethings. Which made sense, given how changed he now was. He’d never been as outgoing as Sunny, but he’d always found enjoyment around others. Now, it seemed like a struggle. Even here, with just the two of them, his shoulders bunched like he was ready to bolt.
No. She wouldn’t make things harder on him. Keeping her feelings bottled up hadn’t killed her over the last fifteen years. What would another few weeks—at the most, a month—more hurt?
“Hey.” She forced a smile. “Can’t sleep?”
“Rarely. You?” He finally looked at her, and she swallowed the pain lodged in her throat his concerned gaze caused.
“Nope.” She took a deep breath, letting his comment of not sleeping go, and pointed her chin at the pool. “Nice that we can come here instead of being stuck pacing the hotel room.”
“Yeah.” He glanced over his shoulder at the pool.
Would he talk more than just a word at a time? Did she really want him to? It wasn’t like they had a ton to talk about. At least, not without bringing up the past.
He sighed like it came all the way from his toes. With no effort at all, he hoisted himself out of the water and sat next to her. Water sloshed from him, chilling her legs, but she didn’t care.
Please don’t leave.
The fear that he would stand up and say good night hit her like an icy tsunami. No, no, no. She pulled her top lip between her teeth and bit hard. She couldn’t let her feelings for him overwhelm her. Not again. She’d barely survived the last time.
She was different now. Staring down death changed her, made her stronger. Resilient. If she could live through that, she could exist within a friendship with Gunnar.
“You ready for tomorrow?” Maybe if she kept things on neutral ground, the next time they were together wouldn’t be so tense.
“Guess so.” He shifted next to her, and she forced herself to look at him. “I’m still catching up to the idea that we get to go.”
She skimmed her gaze along his defined muscles as they flexed and relaxed. Geesh. He’d been in shape before. The military had honed all those angles that had driven her crazy as a teen into something truly swoon-worthy. She curled her toes through the water and forced her gaze to his face.
“Yeah. Me too, and I’ve had almost a year to get used to the idea.” Her attention snagged on a scar that started at his ear and trailed down his neck and over his shoulder. “Oh, Gunnar. What happened here?”
She touched his neck with her fingertips. The ridge of the scar and his cool, damp skin shot tingles up her fingers through her arm. Her hand trembled as she pulled it away and curled it around the pool’s edge.
“Nothing.” He touched where she just had.
“Okay.”
She understood his reluctance to tell her. He didn’t have to talk about his time away. Her asking was selfish and put him on the spot.
“Sorry, Jules. I’m still not used to talking about it.” Gunnar shook his head, taking a deep breath. “When a rescue mission went sideways, I had a little campout with some terrorists who wanted me to chat about things they couldn’t know.”
Tears burned hot and sudden in her eyes, making her nose sting. “They tortured you?” The words hurt as she forced them past the boulders in her throat.
“Not bad.” He shrugged and rubbed his hand across a scar on his stomach that looked like burn marks. “The cavalry swooped in before they could do any real harm.”
She swallowed, blinking the tears away before they fell. If he didn’t want to make a big deal about it, she wouldn’t either. Yet, she scanned his body again, noticing scars here and there. Some looked like bullet holes, others like more knife slashes. All reminded her of the fear she’d lived with, not knowing if he was safe or not.
The tattoo across his shoulder and down his arm snagged her attention. The realism of the American flag impressed her, but the PJ motto inked in the bright red stripes drove home Gunnar’s mission in life. These things we do, that others may live. He’d always been willing to sacrifice himself for others.
That wouldn’t stop just because he was home.
He took a deep breath, like he needed to prepare himself. She tore her gaze from the words inked on his bicep and braced for what he wanted to say.
“The other day, after Saylor blew up, I … I read your letters.” He turned his tear-filled eyes to her. “Jules, I’m so, so sorry.” He dropped his chin to his chest, like his head was too heavy to hold.
He hadn’t known?
Hadn’t even read the letters?
That heaviness that had settled on her built in her chest like a musk ox had trampled her. She sucked in a breath, letting it shake out as the other part of his words sunk in.
“You still had them?” Her head spun as she looked at him for answers. “Why?”
“Selfishness. No, cowardice.” He ground out, cursing beneath his breath. “And to think all these years they comforted me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m such a fool and a jerk. I thought you’d written to tell me you missed me. That you loved me.” He huffed a humorless laugh. “I’d lie with those letters on my chest when I couldn’t sleep, imagining the words you wrote. Remembering little details of you. They were my freaking security blanket.”
Julie didn’t know what to say. Her body had gone numb with the news he hadn’t even read her letters. She couldn’t stand and walk away if she tried. Yet, that her letters, that thoughts of her, had gotten him through his difficult days had her stomach flip-flopping so violently she might throw up.
“I should’ve known that something was wrong. Should’ve known you wouldn’t contact me if it wasn’t important.” His knuckles turned white as he gripped the side of the pool. “Me and that stupid, selfish promise.”
“It wasn’t stupid. You needed to focus on your missions.” She took a deep breath, holding it until her courage filled her. “I’m … I’m glad you didn’t read them. Glad they helped you.”
“You needed me, and I failed you. Not once, but twice.”
“I lived, learned just how strong I was. Learned how to depend on myself and not others. I wouldn’t have done that if you’d been there.” She skimmed her fingers along the PJ motto, making his bicep jump. “We both had to sacrifice, but what you did, all the men and women you saved, they were worth it.”
He shook his head. As she dropped her fingers, he snagged them, rubbing his thumb along their tips. He swallowed so hard she heard it.
“You’re okay now?” Fear for her blazed in his eyes.
“Yeah. Healthy as an ox.” She smiled, wanting more than anything to ease his guilt. “Race you.”
She dived into the pool and took off for the other side. Saylor would call her an idiot, and maybe Julie was. Sure, she’d always been the peacemaker, but her cancer had proved that life was too short to hold on to hurt.
14
Gunnar rode back to the hotel in the taxi with Julie. How in the world could she forgive him after what he’d done? Guilt ate at him, calling him a coward. He never would have associated that word with himself before. It fit.
When it came to Julie, he was terrified. Instead of facing his fear, he’d always ran. Pushed her away. Promised, for the good of the many, that they had to “sacrifice.”
That word ate at him just as much as the guilt. Leaving her behind, cutting all ties, hadn’t been a sacrifice. It’d been a panicked retreat. One that cost both of them. He glanced at her across the backseat. It’d cost her more than him.
He didn’t deserve her forgiveness. Not by a long shot. But he’d do everything he possibly could to not let her down again. How he would manage that, he wasn’t sure. If the Air Force gave him nothing else, it gave him the keen ability to solve problems. He just hoped he could hone that skill for fixing their friendship.
The car pulled up to the curb. As he pushed the door open, the wind whipped the handle out of his hand. This would be a beast to deal with tomorrow when they took off for the North Pole if it didn’t let up.
“Wind’s bad.” He touched Julie’s hand to stop her from opening her door, then snatched it back. “Slide out here.”
She scooted toward him, and he thanked the driver before getting out. He stood next to the car, blocking as much of the wind as he could from hitting her. One good gust and Julie would be down the block.
“This better blow over before tomorrow, or the reporters won’t be happy.” Julie hiked her bag up on her shoulder, tucked her head, and beelined for the door.
Her soft squeak sounded a moment before her arms pinwheeled. Gunnar wrapped his arm around her waist, shifting his own feet as they slipped beneath him. The wind battered them, yanking his feet out from under him. They were going down.
He twisted as they fell and pulled Julie close to his chest. The unyielding concrete slammed into his back. He grunted as she landed on top of him and the air whooshed from his lungs. She was safe. That was all that mattered. Her body shook as her giggles floated through the air.
She pushed her hands against his chest to peer down at him. The soft peach light from the streetlamp haloed her, throwing shadows on her face and making her blush stand out on her cheeks. A strand of her chestnut hair had escaped from under her hood and tickled his cheek where the wind teased it.
Man, seeing her hurt.
Not in the this-is-going-to-suck hurt, though it might. No, this pain was the kind that cut away infection. The sharp, stabbing burst opened the dying part of himself in the way that made him think he might actually find wholeness again.
