Anything For You: A Coming Home Short Story Read online

  * * *

  Shane left the sergeant major’s office, not entirely certain why he’d been called there to begin with. A vague, unsettled feeling sank in his stomach during his ride home. Sergeant Major had confirmed Carponti’s suspicions that Ike was screwing up, but there was more. Much more. Corruption at all levels of command. Shane was needed at work. He knew that. But until he was one hundred percent healthy, he was heading home instead on Sergeant Major’s orders.

  Home. He was heading home. It was Jen’s house, but she’d made it his, too. She’d opened it to him when he’d been without options from a divorce gone bad. She’d amazed him then, and she amazed him still.

  Sergeant Major Giles’ words echoed. He wanted Shane back in the fight, and Shane wanted to be back in the fight. Except now he had something to lose, something important to him. Jen would never ask him to give up the military, but as he turned down the long gravel drive to her small ranch house, he wondered if he shouldn’t consider a civilian life. He could be a trainer here on Fort Hood. Be home every night. Maybe he should look at his options.

  He glanced at the paperwork on the passenger’s seat. Paperwork that was about removing one life-changing option.

  He needed to talk to Jen about the vasectomy. Carponti was right: Jen was going to be pissed when he mentioned the word. But how could she not understand where he was coming from? The risk to her life was not something he could live with, not even for a child.

  He left the paperwork on his seat beneath his patrol cap and walked into the home he shared with the woman he loved. And when he stepped through the front door, things had never been more right.

  Because Jen stood in the kitchen, wearing nothing but one of his big, white t-shirts and a smile.

  * * *

  Jen was nervous. She was always nervous when she didn’t have on a bra and her prosthetic. But Shane’s reaction when he saw her was more than enough to ease her worries.

  His gaze darkened as he approached. “Oh, now this is nice,” he said sinking into the chair in front of her and sliding his hands around her waist. He tugged her gently down until she either had to crawl into his lap or fall against him. Either one worked for her, but she decided his lap was the better option for what she had planned.

  “What did I do to deserve this?” he teased. “Tell me so I can do it again tomorrow.”

  Jen smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck, settling her thighs on either side of his hips. “Nothing special.” She leaned in and pressed her lips to his. “Just practicing, that’s all.”

  “Practicing for what?”

  “The rest of our lives,” she whispered.

  “Now, that is a hell of a good plan.”

  She rolled her hips against his as she kissed him, opening her mouth over his. It was daring for her, far more daring than she would have been a few months ago. It had taken her forever to simply find the courage to remove her prosthetic in front of him.

  She arched against him as she remembered how she’d nearly wept the first time he’d seen the scar where her breast had been. And then he’d kissed her, right there, and told her he loved her. With her breasts. Without them.

  That simple act of loving her, loving all of her, missing parts and all, had taken her to a place she’d never thought she’d find.

  And now, pulling open his uniform top, she felt transformed. Beautiful. Whole. Regardless of her scars. She tugged his t-shirt over his head and pressed her lips to the black ink over his heart. His skin was hot beneath her mouth and she traced one of the tribal lines with the tip of her tongue before sliding a little lower down his body. The carpet caressed her bare knees.

  The sound he made deep in his throat sent pleasure spiking through her veins. He threaded his hand through her hair. Her fingers curled over his ribs and his stomach quivered beneath her light kiss.

  “Jen.” His voice was a gasp, thick and guttural.

  She met his gaze, the big strong man laid low by a simple kiss. She smiled, but then her confidence escaped her. “I’m pretty sure I’m not good at this.”

  His mouth fell open. “I’m pretty sure whatever you do will be perfect.”

  She laughed quietly, wanting to claim the power of taking him in her mouth. Wanting to finally dare do something she’d never done with a lover.

  She was terrified of screwing up. There were so many logistical things that did not simply come on instinct. She kissed the soft line of hair beneath his navel and felt him tense as she worked his belt.

  She popped the buttons open on his uniform pants. One by one, she freed them, finding him without his normal boxer briefs and very, very aroused. “No panties?”

  “Men don’t wear panties,” he mumbled. “I forgot to pack them this morning. Can we please not talk about underwear?”

  He sounded pained. Jen licked her bottom lip, wrapping her hand around his erection. He was steel and satin beneath her touch. She almost giggled, remembering the first time she’d touched him when he’d been hard. She’d needed to remove the catheter he’d been complaining about from the moment of his arrival at the hospital, but when she’d gone into his room, he’d had an erection. For as long as she lived, she’d never forget his expression of horror mixed with downright humiliation.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” he growled. “Am I never going to live that down?”

  She gave up and surrendered to the laugh that bubbled in her throat.

  He sighed, then did the unexpected. He shifted and pulled her back into his lap. Twisting his hand into her hair, he kissed her breathless as his fingers found her heat and stroked until she rocked her hips against his touch. He brought her right to the brink of pleasure. He stopped, to pause and roll a condom in place before he slid home, deep. She frowned, realizing he’d distracted her from her goal of going down on him. “I didn’t get to—”

  “Some other time,” he said against her lips as he began to move beneath her. He gripped her hips, guiding her to the rhythm they both needed. She loved this position. She felt powerful and strong.

  Loved. She kissed him, losing herself in the pleasure of his touch, his taste, his feel. Her body shattered around him, and he followed a moment later, his breath hot against her neck as he came.

  Later, when she was curled beside him in their bed, her body wrapped in his warm embrace, she closed her eyes and felt cherished.

  * * *

  The coffee pot gurgled in the early morning quiet. It was the little things, the normalcy of being home, that struck him hard sometimes. Simple things like having Jen there, in the house. Jen to wake up to in the morning.

  He’d fallen asleep last night with her nestled in the curve of his body. He’d waited months to hold her properly. Now that he could, he did. Every night, unless she had to work. Then, it felt strange, falling asleep without her. There was a silence in the house that just felt wrong when she had to work the night shift.

  Then again, Shane was still working on getting used to silence, anyway. Life in the States didn’t have all the background noise of generators and soldiers constantly crunching through the gravel outside his trailer when he was trying to sleep. He’d never adjusted to the silence of the hospital, but the silence at Jen’s—at home—was different. Different and good.

  He opened the fridge and set the eggs on the counter. Jen had gone outside for something in her car. He cradled the nascent feeling of contentment that settled around his heart.

  And then, that moment ended.

  “What is this?”

  Shane froze where he’d been lining up bacon on the microwave tray. He took a deep breath. Did not turn around. Apparently, Jen had found the paperwork Shane wasn’t ready to talk about yet.

  “What is what?” he asked carefully.

  “Vasectomy, Shane?” Her voice broke over the fury in her words.

  He said nothing, struggling to find the words he needed to make her hear him out. He covered the bacon and set it in the microwave, then set the timer.

 
; It was another moment before he turned to face her. “So, yeah, about that.”

  He was not prepared to see tears shining in her eyes. His heart tightened in his chest. Fuck, he’d hurt her. All because he’d been a coward and hadn’t found the words to bring it up. “Jen—”

  “Were you even going to talk to me about this?” Her eyes glittered brightly, but there was no vitriol in her words. Just hurt. “What is this, Shane?”

  “It’s an appointment.”

  Her bottom lip quivered. She bit it. Hard. After a moment, she spoke. “So, were you just going to let me show up from work one night and see you sitting on the couch with a bag of peas?”

  He swallowed and took a step toward her. In the entire time he’d known her, he’d never seen her this upset. Not angry. Hurt. “Can we just talk about this?”

  “What are we going to talk about? About the fact that you don’t want to have children? Or is it about my cancer, Shane? Is that what this is about?”

  He wanted to hold her, to soothe the ragged pain in her face. He hated seeing her hurting. It was worse, knowing he was the cause of that hurt. He rounded the island in the small kitchen and tried to pull her to him, but she stepped away. Shane’s temper broke. “Of course this is about your cancer,” he snapped.

  Her face fell, and he instantly regretted his words. “Not like you’re thinking.” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “I don’t lay awake at night worrying about your scars or the fact that you were sick. I worry that you might get sick again.”

  “Shane, I’m not dead. I’m not dying. I had cancer once. I might never get it again.”

  “And you might get it again next week,” he shouted. “I can’t control if you get sick again. But I can control if we get you pregnant and that makes you sick again. I’m not willing to risk that just so we can have a kid.”

  Jen froze, shock and horror moving across her face. She took a step backward, then turned away, but not before he saw a single tear slide down her cheek.

  He took a step toward her, but she stiffened.

  “Jen—”

  “You should probably go,” she whispered, speaking words he’d feared: asking him to leave. The sound of her voice breaking ripped his soul to shreds.

  “Jen—”

  She said nothing. She simply walked out of the kitchen and climbed the stairs. He could have followed. He could have climbed those stairs and followed her down the hall, but the resounding slam of the bedroom door echoed like a vault.

  So he let her go. Watching her walking away from everything they’d built was the hardest thing he’d ever done.

  * * *

  “I am pretty sure the man is an idiot.”

  Jen barely heard her friend’s words, but she accepted the hug that came with them. Laura Davila wrapped her arms around Jen and pulled her close.

  There were two pints of ice cream on Laura’s living room table. Laura had taken one look at Jen when she’d pulled into the drive way and known immediately that conversation and ice cream—not necessarily in that order—were needed.

  Jen’s eyes felt like they were the size of golf balls, and she could barely breathe from crying so hard. All day, she hadn’t been able to stop. She’d tried. She’d tried to step away from the hurt of finding the paperwork and look at it from a rational point of view, but the tears kept coming.

  It hurt that her cancer still screwed with her life years after she’d beaten it. All she wanted was a normal life. A life where the man she loved didn’t look at her like she was going to drop dead next week.

  It was a long moment before Jen straightened, then reached for the spoon.

  Laura pushed the cardboard pint closer to Jen. “But if he’s an idiot, then so, m’dear, are you.”

  Jen paused mid-scoop. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

  “I am.” Laura dug a spoonful out of her own pint of coffee ice cream. “But I also know that man loves you more than life itself, so there has to be a rational explanation for why he didn’t talk to you about this.”

  “He says he didn’t do anything yet,” Jen said.

  “Yeah, well, Shane’s a pretty honorable guy, so if he says he didn’t do anything, then he probably didn’t. Plus, I don’t think you guys would be doing the nasty if he’d just gotten neutered.”

  Jen choked back a laugh. “That’s so not funny. This...this hurt.”

  “It only hurt because he didn’t talk to you about it.”

  “No. It’s more than that.” She let the ice cream melt on her tongue. “It’s like me getting sick again is always in the room.”

  Laura looked at her for a long moment. “Maybe it’s always going to be,” she said softly.

  Tears filled Jen’s eyes once more. “I don’t want to be a cancer patient anymore,” she whispered. “I just want to move on with my life.”

  “Oh, honey.” Laura wrapped her arm around Jen’s shoulders.

  Jen leaned against her again and tried to stop her eyes from leaking. “We’ve talked about kids before.”

  “We’ve talked or you’ve talked?”

  Jen straightened, narrowing her eyes at her friend. “We’ve talked. We talk about Ethan and Emma. About having some of our own. Someday. And now this?”

  “Honey, you had cancer. He’s probably still wrapping his mind around everything that entails. Your life isn’t something he’s going to risk on a whim.”

  “Pretty sure having a kid is not a whim,” Jen said.

  “Neither is a vasectomy. Trent used to tell me stories about the guys who had them. Some of them acted like they’d, well, had a ball removed, and others were like it was no big deal.” Laura’s voice took on a wistful tone. “That was before he decided he was never coming home again.”

  “He’s still volunteering for training while the investigation continues?”

  “He’s at NTC this month. You’d have thought a man under investigation would have to stick closer to Fort Hood than he is.” Laura sighed. “I’m starting to think it would be easier to catch bin Laden than it is to wrap up the investigation against my soon-to-be-ex-if-he-would-just-sign-the-damn-papers spouse.”

  Jen wiped her eyes again and sank back into the couch. “I’m sorry things are so crappy with Trent.”

  “Thanks, but don’t be. I’ll be okay.” Laura shifted on the couch, tucking one leg beneath her. “You know, now that I think about it, this whole vasectomy thing is kind of romantic.”

  Jen raised both eyebrows. “Oh, I can’t wait to hear this.”

  “The man loves you enough to let his balls be sliced open. How do you not see the romance in this?”

  Jen smothered a horrified laugh. “You’ve been hanging around Nicole too much.”

  “No, but I do know this.” Laura lowered her spoon. “I know he’s scared and men like Shane don’t do well with fear. Not this kind of fear.”

  “He’s been to war. Cancer is not scarier than war.”

  Laura lifted one shoulder. “Yeah, it kind of is. Shane knows what to do in war.”

  Jen sniffed and leaned forward to set her ice cream down. “You know what I don’t understand? Why does he get to do this so he doesn’t have to be afraid? I’d never ask him to give up the Army, even though the thought of him deploying again scares me so badly, I almost have an anxiety attack when I think about it. Why does he get to do something about his fear while I have to live with my fear of him dying in combat?”

  “He’s a soldier, honey. That’s who he is. You knew that when you got involved with him.”

  “And I won’t take that away from him. But he’s trying to take kids away from us.”

  Laura shook her head slowly. “No, he’s not. He’s just trying to take away biological kids. There’s a difference. Shane is one of the best men I know. Trent would follow him anywhere, any day of the week.”

  Jen sniffed and leaned her head on the cushion behind her. “I want kids, Laura. I thought he did, too.”

  Laura shot her a baleful look. “Then
adopt. Just because they don’t come from your body doesn’t make them any less your child.”

  “That’s easy enough for you to say,” Jen said quietly. “You have Ethan and Emma.”

  “Trent and I talked about it. A long time ago, before he took his dick and went AWOL from our lives.”

  Jen choked back a horrified laugh. “Really? He took his dick and went AWOL? Is that a euphemism for some kind of strange coping mechanism you have now?”

  “Yeah. We had a hell of a time getting pregnant and staying that way. I miscarried three times. We’d given up when I got pregnant with Ethan.” Laura leaned forward for the Kleenex and handed Jen the box. “All I’m saying is, you can still be a parent without causing Shane a mental breakdown from anxiety, and without risking your own health, either.”

  Jen looked at Laura sharply. “Not you, too?”

  Laura shrugged. “Maybe I worry a little bit. Maybe we all do, because we love you and we’d like to keep you around a little while longer.”

  Jen chewed on the inside of her lip and said nothing.

  “So yeah, maybe you should go talk to him? Just hear him out, okay?”

  Jen nodded, wrapping her arms around her knees and pulling them to her chest. Laura was right.

  Knowing she needed to hear him out wouldn’t make Shane’s words any less painful.

  * * *

  Shane ran. He didn’t care that he wasn’t cleared to run. He ran until the bones in his legs burned. He ran until his lungs screamed. He stared at the little red numbers on the treadmill that marked the distance and he ran, burning off the frustrated hurt and anger that tore at his chest.

  Watching Jen walk away from him a few hours earlier had been hell. The hardest thing he’d ever done in his life.

  Harder than walking into combat the first time.

  He’d hurt her. He’d known it the moment he’d turned around and seen the tears filling her eyes. He could still remember the first time they’d talked about a future, a real future together.

  “Jen Garrison.” She smiled up at him. “I think I can get used to the sound of that.”