Page 5 of Served

By 5:55, my palms are sweating as the committee members start filtering in. Deputy Barlow from the Sheriff’s Office. Duke and his wife, Ro. Ro’s brother Max with Ciara, his wife. A couple of librarians whose names I can’t remember. Griff from the general store. A fireman or two. Some people I recognize from the motorcycle shop. Honestly, it’s a great turnout for such a small town.

Then, at exactly six o’clock, Letty walks through the door.

She’s in dark jeans and a flowy cream top that makes her skin glow. Her dark hair falls thick and loose over her shoulders. I’ve never seen it down before, and the urge to run my fingers through it hits me so hard my knees almost give out as I stand.

She scans the room, waving to a couple of the others there, then her eyes find mine and she smiles, her whole face lighting up.

Wow.

She hurries over and I hand her an agenda as she drops into the chair beside me.

“Thanks,” she whispers.

“Anytime,” I reply, sitting down. Being this close to her makes it hard to think.

Troy claps his hands, starting the evening’s proceedings. I catch very little—whenever Letty’s thigh brushes mine, sparks shoot straight to my cock. I glance at her, but her posture remains the same, her chin lifted as she nods at Zoe’s proposal for a candlelight vigil. Then one of the librarians suggests a children’s choir singing “God Bless America,” and Letty’s nose wrinkles with a flicker of distaste.

I lean closer, inhaling that dizzying cinnamon scent. “Not a fan of patriotic songs?”

Her lips twitch. “My late husband didn’t like it. Always said it was too sappy.”

Husband. The word punches me in the gut. The Marine. The ghost.

She stiffens, like she regrets mentioning him. I want to ask how he died. When. Where. But Zoe’s handing out assignments, and Letty’s gazing straight ahead, her profile carefully composed.

“Felix,” Zoe says, catching my eye. “You and Letty okay handling the tribute display? We need photos of fallen soldiers, bios, maybe personal items from families?”

Letty’s gaze snaps to mine, surprise all over her face. “I’m not sure I?—”

“You’d be perfect,” I say quickly, perhaps too much so. “And I could use the help.”

After a moment’s hesitation, she nods. “All right. I’m in.”

“Great!” Zoe says, then adds gently, “and Letty, we’d be honored to include your husband in the display, if you’re comfortable with that.”

Letty nods tightly, and her hands twist in her lap. “Of course. Jason would...he would have liked that.”

A chill runs down my spine, then I shake myself. It’s a common enough name.

The meeting continues, but Letty steals all my attention. She takes copious notes, biting her lip as she concentrates. Just like in the truck, I could watch her for hours.

After the meeting wraps up, everyone heads to the refreshment table. Letty hangs back, examining the list of local veterans we’ll be honoring. I approach her, trying not to get too close.

“Thank you,” I say quietly. “For agreeing to help with the project.”

She turns, a sad smile tugging at her lips. “It’s important. Jason would want me to help.”

“Tell me about him.” It slips out before I can stop it.

She looks away, her fingers tracing the edge of the paper. “Marine. Force Recon. Stubborn as hell, brave to a fault.” Her voice catches. “Loved college football as much as he hated tomatoes. Died in Afghanistan four years ago.”

I swallow hard. Force Recon. Four years ago. Afghanistan. It can’t be…

“What was his last name?” I ask, my mouth suddenly dry.

“Gordon,” she says. “Jason Gordon.”

The floor practically drops out from under me. Gordy. My squadmate, and my friend. We all called him Gordy because we had two other Jasons in our unit.

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