“I looked at it,” Fin told her mum as her stomach growled angrily. Dammit. Was food all she could think about anymore? Better than thinking about Ryan.
Her mother rolled her eyes before striking up a conversation with the lady over the deli counter and ordering a half kilo of ham. Sliced deli meat was one thing she remembered skimming her eye over. “If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t know right now that I’m not allowed to eat that ham,” she pointed out.
“It’s for your father,” her mum murmured distractedly.
Intent on using the distraction to her advantage, Fin gripped her hands firmly to the trolley and made a rapid escape from the pair of them. Breathing a sigh of relief at seeing the next aisle empty of people, Fin gave up the pretence of trying to walk like a normal person. Her feet, encased in plain black flip flops, were literally going to kill her. She was only just past six months along—were they supposed to be that swollen already? God. She just wanted to be at home lying on the couch, her feet elevated on the arm rest as soothing music wafted through the room. She could rest her hands on her belly and imagine they were Ryan’s, but she was only kidding herself and the pretence just made her feel worse.
Moving farther up the aisle, Fin halted in front of the cereals and hitched up her bright purple yoga pants. “I really need to buy some maternity clothes,” she muttered as they slid back down, the soft, elasticised waistband folding back underneath her tummy—enough to expose the very tips of her tattoo.
Sighing, Fin tried to tug her tank top down instead. It didn’t quite reach the waistband of her pants, leaving a sliver of exposed skin.
“You may as well just bite the bullet, Finlay Tanner,” she told herself as she adjusted her clothes without success, “you’re doing this on your own. Putting off buying maternity clothes isn’t helping anyone, especially the public who right now have to bear witness to your fat stomach.”
Grabbing at both a packet of Weet-bix and Coco Pops, Fin held them aloft as she examined the contents. She had to have the milky chocolate crunch or someone would pay, but Weet-bix was the healthy option, wasn’t it? Maybe she should get both. Why was choosing a cereal so hard? A tear slid down her cheek, and then another, until clutching both boxes of cereal to her swollen belly, Fin began to sob openly, not even caring that she was crying in the middle of a supermarket. She was pregnant, dammit. She could get away with all kinds of emotional outbursts. It wasn’t like the supermarket was full of people anyway, and even if it was, she was sure most would be giving her a wide berth. They would have to anyway, what with her giant belly being in the way and all.
“Hey now, what’s wrong, sweetheart?”
Fin spun around at the familiar voice and came face to face with Kyle’s cheeky hazel eyes. What was he doing here? She looked frantically up and down the aisle for Ryan, but she didn’t see him. Was he here somewhere too?
Kyle reached out and cupped her face, using his thumbs to wipe her tears away. He pressed a kiss to her forehead before taking a step back and looking down at her, waiting for some kind of response.
Flustered, Fin glanced down at the cereal boxes crushed against her. “I can’t choose what cereal to buy,” she choked out.
Kyle’s eyebrows flew up. “Okay,” he drawled. Using his left arm, he reached out for one of the boxes in her arms, and she jerked back. He cleared his throat. “Well, you seem kinda attached to both of them. Maybe you should just buy both.”
“Right,” Fin muttered, in no hurry to toss the cereal into her trolley and expose her supersized form. It was then that her eyes fell on his right arm. It was bandaged heavily and bound tight to his body with a heavy duty sling. Alarmed, she met his eyes. “Your arm!”
Kyle shrugged. “It’s nothing. Just a scratch. They sent me home a little early.”
Fin’s eyes widened. “They sent you home for a scratch?”
She watched Kyle cringe a little and rub awkwardly at the back of his neck. “Yeah. I got scratched by a bullet.”
“A bullet?” Dizziness engulfed her, and the boxes in her arms went a little lax. “So really, you were shot. Are you … Is Ryan …”
“Ryan’s fine!” Kyle replied quickly. Fin let out the breath she didn’t realise she was holding. “It wasn’t even an attack, just some bastard who pinged off a shot and got lucky.”
“Kyle,” she muttered. Why did they keep going back there? How many people had to get hurt or die?
“I’m okay,” he replied and amusement filled his eyes. “As good as I can be. I really miss using my right hand.” Fin flushed wildly at the implication, and he burst out laughing. “You’re so easy.”
Knowing her mother would soon be catching up, Fin cleared her throat. “Well, I should get going. Maybe you can stop by the cottage for dinner one night,” she threw out.
He nodded. “Okay, what night are you free?”
Oh shit. Fin was only being polite. She never thought he would take her up on the offer. “Umm … well, let me think …”
Kyle arched a brow. “If you don’t want me to come over, that’s okay. I know, what with … Jake and now Ryan … Well, me being around might not be the best thing, but it might be nice to catch up, you know?” His eyes searched her face.
“Of course it would,” Fin agreed. “It’s not that I don’t want to—”
“Let me get those.” He reached again for the cereal, and she flinched backwards, hitting the shelving with a wince.
Kyle frowned. “Fin?”
Fin aimed for a laugh but the sound came out strangled and high pitched.
With just his left hand, Kyle somehow scooped both boxes from her arms and tossed them in the trolley. “There. Now back to why you were crying over a bunch of cereal.” His eyes fell, widening when they latched onto the chest that had expanded considerably. Crap. She really needed some new bras too. “Holy shit, Fin. Wow. You sure got …” Kyle trailed off as his eyes lowered, his mouth dropping open as he stared at her belly. “That’s … you … you’re pregnant.”
Fin nodded casually, her eyes finding something interesting behind his shoulder. “Well, these things happen. Anyway, um … I should go.”
“He doesn’t know,” came Kyle’s flat voice.
She averted her eyes, hurt pooling in her stomach as she focused on the painfully swollen sausages that were masquerading as her toes. “I emailed him. I asked him to give me a call, but you know, he’s obviously busy saving a whole bunch of people and whatnot so yes, you’re right. He doesn’t know.”
“Fuck,” Kyle growled.
Fin placed a hand on his good arm. “Don’t. Just let it go. I have,” she lied. “I can do this on my own. I don’t have a choice anyway, so there’s no point in getting angry or whatever. Life is what it is.” And it sure as shit wasn’t turning out anything like she expected it would.
Kyle nodded, but his body remained tense.
“Please don’t say anything to Ryan. He needs to hear it from me, but I’ve made the first move. It’s on him now.”
Taking a step back, Kyle’s eyes slid down the end of the aisle to where her mother and Laura were making their way towards them. Laura’s arms were piled high, Fin’s mum scouring the shelves and adding more to the pile as they made their way towards them. “Well, how’s Friday night for dinner then?”
“Are you serious? Friday nights are for drinking and pretty girls, not a crazy pregnant woman with moods that change faster than you can flick channels on the TV.”
Kyle laughed. “I’ve been in Afghanistan in case you forgot. I’m sure I’ve faced enough crazy to handle whatever you can throw at me.”
Fin tugged on her tank top again. Kyle’s eyes followed the movement and she flushed, lamenting the fact that she hadn’t bothered to choose her outfit more carefully before leaving the house. “Then you’re the one who’s nuts.”
“Hey.” Kyle grinned. “You’re the one standing on your own in the supermarket aisle, crying because you can’t decide what cereal to buy.” Putting his left hand in his
pocket, she heard the jingle of car keys. “Anyway, I better get going. Got physio. Does seven work for you?”
“Probably not, unless you don’t mind me falling asleep on you.” Staying awake past eight p.m. these days was like swimming against the current, and Fin was slowly learning to pick her battles.
“Six then,” he replied as Fin aimed for another furtive tug upwards of her yoga pants. “You look …” Kyle swallowed, high colour hitting his cheeks as he met her eyes. “You’re beautiful. Pregnancy suits you.” With that he turned, offering a brief nod and a “Mrs. Tanner” and a “Laura,” to her mum and cousin before disappearing from the aisle.
“What’s Kyle doing back home?” her mother asked.
Items tumbled from Laura’s arms and into the trolley. “And did I just hear him call you beautiful?”
“Laura! Honestly. He was injured, but he’s okay.” Fin brushed at a rogue wave that had escaped her messy knot of hair. With her swollen body and ill-fitting clothes, she’d never looked or felt more unattractive in her entire life. “Besides, he was just being polite. I’m pregnant for God’s sake.”
“So what if you are?” Laura winked. “That doesn’t mean you can’t have sex.”
“Laura,” Fin hissed and once again, took possession of the trolley to make for another escape.
“I didn’t say to have a relationship with him, Fin.”
Fin gasped. “You did not just say that! He’s one of Ryan’s best friends. This conversation is getting out of control. Can we just get this shopping over and done with? What I need is to park my bum on something cushioned and eat. What I don’t need is to stand in the supermarket aisle while six months pregnant, talking about having sex just because a man was polite enough to call me beautiful when I look like complete ass!” She finished her rant by sucking in a deep lungful of air. All the added weight to her chest and belly had her breaking a sweat just by breathing.
With another irritable tug at her pants and an audible growl, Fin pushed the trolley along rapidly, and the faster she moved, the more she felt herself beginning to waddle.
“Coco Pops? Really?”
Glancing sideways, Fin realised her mother was keeping pace beside her. “Yes. You got a problem with that?”
Her mother shrugged. “Not really. My thing when pregnant with you was double cheeseburgers. I haven’t been able to eat another one since.” She shuddered before stopping in front of the vitamins. “Oh, when we’re done here, we should go pick out some maternity clothes. You’re busting out of those pants, honey.”
Pressing her lips together, Fin focused with wild desperation on getting out of the supermarket alive.
Two days later
FOB Khost
Eastern Afghanistan
“How’s life at the barracks, Brooks?”
“Fucking boring,” came the moan in his ear, “and I’m busy pissing everyone off just to keep myself entertained because there’s nothing else to do. Although they do have a bunch of new recruits due in over the next two weeks. Giving them shit will keep me occupied until my arm heals.”
With elbows resting on his knees and phone to his ear, Ryan laughed. “How is the arm anyway?”
“It’s fine, but if one more asshole makes a joke about my inability to jack off, I’m going to shoot them. I could load and fire a rifle with my left hand while blindfolded and hit a moving target in the time it would take them to find their own dicks.”
Ryan chuckled. “Careful, Brooks. You’re sounding a bit frustrated there.”
Kyle cleared his throat.
“So is that why you’re ringing me at, what time is it there—three a.m.? To talk to me about your sexual frustration?”
“Bet it’s nowhere near as bad as yours is.”
Ryan’s entire body tensed, and it was Kyle’s turn to laugh. “Actually, there is something I’m ringing you about.”
“Yeah?” Tucking the phone between his ear and shoulder, Ryan clenched and unclenched his fists. “What?”
Silence.
“You there?”
“Yeah, I’m here.” Another pause. “It’s Fin.”
His fingers tightened on the phone. “Is she okay?”
“She’s fine, Kendall,” Kyle replied. “I, uh, ran into her at the supermarket the other day. She was there with Julie and Laura.”
“How is she?”
“Well, maybe that’s something you could ask her yourself, you know?”
Getting to his feet, Ryan started pacing in short spurts, back and forth, back and forth. Stopping, he scratched idly at the beard forming on his face from their patrol. He hated not shaving, but it wasn’t a high priority in the middle of a life and death operation. “Probably not a good idea.”
Kyle’s growl of anger came through the line.
“Brooks …”
“She told me she emailed you.”
Ryan closed his eyes. Finlay Tanner. The bold words. The empty subject line. It still taunted him.
“Have you even read it?”
His brows drew together in a sharp frown. “Why are you suddenly making this your business?” Ryan deflected angrily.
“Christ, Kendall. I wouldn’t have expected you of all people to forget how short life is.”
“Exactly. That’s why she’s moving to Sydney and studying at the Research Centre.”
“Hmmm.”
“Hmmm what? Fin is still going, isn’t she? She told me she accepted their invitation and that it was all set.”
“Look, Kendall. I’m not being the go between for the two of you. If you want to know anything about what she’s doing, you can bloody well ask her yourself.”
Ryan pinched the bridge of nose with his thumb and forefinger. Kyle was right. That was a shit thing to do. “Sorry,” he muttered and checked his watch. He was due for debrief in thirty minutes. “Look, I gotta go. Have a beer for me tonight, will you?”
There was zero alcohol tolerance for all soldiers on deployment. Knowing it was Friday morning there, Kyle would no doubt be hitting the piss that night.
“Will do,” Kyle murmured.
After hanging up the phone, Ryan turned to the computer. Switching it on, he logged into his email and stared at it again. Fuck, Kendall. Just grow some fucking balls and open the email already.
Hovering the mouse over her name, Ryan double clicked before he could think about it any further.
Ryan,
It feels like I’ve started this email a thousand times because it’s so hard to know what to say.
Remember before you left, you told me to “go and make Jake proud”? I hope you are doing the same thing.
I miss you. So very much.
Exhaling deeply, Ryan tilted his head upwards, his eyes burning. God, he missed her too.
I know you have certain expectations about what I should be doing with my life, but you should know that life always gets in the way of plans.
Sorry. It’s not my intention to be cryptic, but I need to talk to you and some things are better discussed over the phone rather than email.
Ring me when you can. Please.
Love always,
Fin.
Pressing his lips together, Ryan hit delete on the email and started the process of logging out and shutting the computer down.
I need to talk to you …
The soft whir of the computer wound down until silence filled the room, and still he sat there staring at the screen.
Ring me when you can.
Getting to his feet, Ryan strode determinedly towards the door and swung it open.
Please …
Pausing with his hand on the door, he turned and looked at the phone. Who was he kidding? Fin would never have emailed him—not after he stormed out, got drunk, disappeared, and showed up the next day to tell her it was over—unless it was important. Christ, did he really do that? What a fucking asshole.
Moving back into the room, Ryan picked up the phone and began dialling.
Buried under the she
ets, dawn fighting its way inside the bedroom, Fin growled irritably after another night of rough sleep. She hated, hated, sleeping on her back, but she was stuck with it like some beached whale. Jake would’ve got a great laugh out of this, no doubt suggesting a rescue from Greenpeace to push her into safe waters or something. Her baby was going to miss out on having the best uncle a kid could ask for.
Realising there would be no more sleep for her this morning, she reached for her phone off the bedside table, intent on turning off the alarm before it began shrieking. Grasping it with an awkwardness that would have been embarrassing if anyone was watching, her fingers shook at seeing the missed call just after three in the morning from a blocked number. She quickly checked her messages but there were none. Had it been Ryan? What if he was hurt? Without care at the early hour, she called up her list of contacts and dialled.
Kyle answered sleepily with an “am I being ditched for a better offer already?”
“No!” Fin rolled to her side and grabbing the mattress, pulled herself to an awkward sitting position, a groan slipping out in the process. The baby performed a lazy roll, obviously annoyed at Fin’s rearrangement. Fin rubbed her tummy soothingly and sucked in a sharp breath after getting booted for the gesture.
“Holy shit!” Kyle suddenly sounded wide awake. “Are you in labour? Shouldn’t you be ringing your labour buddy? Who the fuck is your labour buddy anyway? Christ, it’s not me, is it? Because if it is, you really should have told me. I’ve never trained for this kind of—”
Fin would’ve laughed if she wasn’t busy having her own panic attack. “Kyle! I’m not in labour,” she informed him.
There was a pause and then, “Thank God.”
“I thought you said you could handle crazy?”
“Labour’s not crazy. It’s savage and disturbing on too many levels and has no place in my life.”