Page 49 of Taking a King

I smile. "Then he put on this mix CD he'd made for me. He pushed play and I heard CCR for the first time. And it wasn't one of their usual popular songs. It wasn’tBad Moon RisingorUp Around the Bend. Nope. It wasLong as I Can See the Light." I shake my head, lost in memories.

"I rememberfeelingthat song as it played. It was the first time I really accepted that Ronan was actually leaving home. Leaving me behind. But I also realized that he'd come back. Wherever he went, he'd come back. We were home for him, but he needed to see more. Do more. I got it then. As much as a bitchy 13-year-old girl can."I sigh.

"I loved that song. From the first moment I heard John Fogarty's voice, I was done." I smile, trying to ignore the lump in my throat.“It’s been my favorite song ever since.” I clear my throat and turn look at Garrett.

"So, I hugged my idiot big brother, told him I loved him. Told him I'd put a candle in my window if it wasn't a fire hazard. But that I'd be here when he came home." I shake my head. A sad smile curves my lips. “I don’t think either of us expected him to come home the way he did,” I say softly. “But at least he made it home.”

I close my eyes against the tears that threaten. I clear my throat and risk a glance at Garrett. He’s watching me with some unnamed emotion in his eyes. I know he’s probably thinking back to that day. I hate that I’ve brought it up again when I know it’s not easy for him to remember.

"Sorry for the long story,” I manage.

Garrett shakes his head. "Don't be. I'm glad you told me."

There’s a strange quality to his voice that I don’t recognize. Before I can analyze it further or ask if he’s okay, he pulls me to him and kisses me. It doesn’t take long for us to get lost, and I forget all my questions.

Chapter Twenty-five

Garrett

What have I done?

It's the one thought that keeps whirling through my brain.What the hell have I done?Because I know now. It’s clear as day. I’m in love with Claire. I didn’t plan it and I’m scared shitless, but I can’t deny it. I love her.And I’m supposed to leave in 17 days. If I go back, that is. I still haven’t officially decided. My CO calls me daily now, and the calls are getting less friendly each time. He’s clearly tired of me dancing around the issue.

How am I supposed to go back, knowing I’ll be leaving Claire here? We’ve barely had a chance to be together. I’m not ready to leave. How can I go back, knowing I might end up in a warzone a half a world away from her? Knowing I might be killed? Knowing I might never come back to her? Or worse, that I might come back a broken version of the man she knows? I don’t know if she feels the same way, but I know I need to tell her how I feel. And I need to make a decision about my career. Soon.

I lie awake most of the night, listening to the even sound of Claire’s breathing, loving the feel of her warm body pressed against mine. My mind runs over all the reasons I have for reenlisting. Honor. Duty. Commitment. My unit. My country. I’m a Marine. I’ve been one for so long that I don’t know who I am without that title. I’ve spent most of my adult life as part of the military, surrounded by others just like me. I don’t know what to do outside of that. I don’t know if I want to leave it behind. I don’t know if I can. It scares me to think that there might not be more to me than this. And if that’s the case, how can I be the man Claire deserves?

Would she come with me if I asked her to? I’m not sure. Is it fair of me to ask that of her? Knowing what she went through with Ronan, it would be selfish of me to ask her to follow me around the world while I run into danger. I’d be taking her away from her family just so I could keep a career I’m not even sure I want anymore.

I consider Ronan’s offer of a job. I know he’d tossed it out without thought. He’d probably been joking. Does he really want me working beside him? Can I really give up the military to be a small-town cop? Claire burrows tighter against my side and my heart clenches. All at once, I know the answer.

For her?

Absolutely.

Chapter Twenty-six

Claire

My phone rings as I’m leaving the studio. I wave goodbye to the others as I fumble it out of my bag. When I see the screen, I freeze. It’s the school. The fact that they’re calling instead of sending an email is a good thing, right? If they were rejecting me, they’d just send an email. With shaking hands, I tap the screen to answer the call.

“Hello?”

“Claire King?”

“This is she,” I say.

“Hi, Claire. This is Bridget Morris from Oak Hill Elementary School. How are you?”

“I’m doing well,” I say, despite my racing heart. “How are you?” I hate myself for asking when all I want is to know why she’s calling, but I know my parents would roll over in their graves if I didn’t reciprocate the greeting.

“I’m well,” she says cheerily. “Do you have a few minutes to talk?”

I take a deep breath and let it out. This is it. One way or another, I’m about to find out if I have what it takes to teach music.

“I do,” I say.

“Good,” Bridget says in a bright voice. “I wanted to let you know that we’ve finished interviewing all the candidates for the position and we’ve reached a decision.”

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