Her Forbidden Marine (Hearts Ablaze: Men in Uniform Book 2) by Makenna Jameison Page A

in surprise.  If anything, he’d expected her to be angry with him.  To be mad that Brody was the one killed and to be upset that Matt hadn’t done the one thing he’d promised Brody—watch out for her.  It was almost like she understood what he’d gone through—which was impossible.  It would be a helluva lot easier if she hated him.  If she’d yell and scream, then he could stay away, telling himself he tried to be there for her.  But when she looked at him with such…understanding in her eyes, he almost couldn’t bear the thought of never seeing her again.  She almost made it seem like he could live with the guilt of losing his friend, because she’d lost him, too.  If she could forgive Matt, then shouldn’t he be able to forgive himself?
    “Matt,” Becky said, and he looked back at her, realizing he’d been lost in thought.  “Did Brody say anything when he…was killed?  Before, I mean?”
    Matt shook his head slowly.  “He was killed instantly, Becky.”
    She nodded and swallowed, blinking away tears.  “I just wish I could’ve known what he was thinking, his final words.”
    “None of us saw it coming,” Matt said in a low voice.  “Not a single one of us.”
    “Me either,” Becky said sadly.  “He was supposed to come home a few months later, so I never even thought that he wouldn’t.  He was supposed to be done.”
    “It fucking sucks—sorry,” Matt added hastily.  “Listen, if you want to still do something on Friday when I get back, I’m game.  Maybe we can grab dinner or a drink?  Talk a little more then?”
    “Right, you’re going out of town.  Um, can I call you this week?”
    “Sure,” Matt said, feeling slightly uncertain.  Was that a yes or a no?  Did women always have to be so complicated?
    “I should get going,” Becky said, finishing her latte.  “You have your trip to get ready for, and Melissa’s cooking dinner tonight—heaven knows she’s a terrible cook, so we’ll probably end up ordering pizza.”
    Matt laughed as Becky continued.  “But I don’t want to get there late.”
    “Let me walk you to your car,” he said easily.  Man, if he didn’t feel a million times lighter after having talked to her tonight.  He didn’t realize the weight of everything he’d been carrying around for the past year.  It actually felt good to have someone to talk to.  It didn’t change the past—nothing would—but it almost felt like she’d taken some of the burden off of him.
    Becky rose and put on her jacket, and Matt held the door for them as they left the coffee shop.  The sleet had changed over to freezing rain, and little pellets of ice bounced off the sidewalk and street.  “Damn, my windshield is frozen solid,” Becky said, looking in dismay at her car, which was completely covered in ice.
    “Do you have an ice scraper?”
    “I don’t know—it’s a rental.  Probably not, but maybe I can check in the trunk.”
    “Oh, right.  I’ll grab mine and scrape off the windshield for you.”
    “Matt, you don’t have to do that,” Becky protested.
    “It’s no problem,” he said, holding his hand up to shield her face from the freezing rain as she looked up at him.  “Go turn on the defroster and get your car warmed up.  I’ll be right back.”  He walked down the block to his own car, grabbed the ice scraper, and was back at Becky’s car in no time.  Now he was even more glad he’d run into her because she would’ve been sitting here a while waiting for the ice to melt.  He set to work cleaning her windshield and felt more productive than he had all day.  Helping her out made him feel good, he realized, even if this was just a small favor.  He cared about her and hoped like hell that she wanted to see him again next weekend.

Chapter 8
     
     
    Matt drove down Interstate-64 on Monday morning, heading toward Virginia Beach and Norfolk.  He was slated to give a series of briefings to some Navy personnel stationed at