Page 51 of Ebbing Tides
“Is that her?” he whispered too loudly, as if theherin question couldn’t hear.
I flicked my eyes away from the phone in time to watch Melanie glance over her shoulder. “It is,” I confessed without another moment’s hesitation, wanting her to know that I had been thinking about her, talking about her.
“Oh man.” He wiped a hand over his mouth, looking downright giddy as the corners of his eyes crinkled and the smile lines around his mouth deepened. “You gonna introduce me or what?”
I shook my head, looking back at Melanie. She had turned around, the shame in her face fading as she bit her lip.
“Absolutely not.”
“Oh, so you’re just gonna be rude. I gotcha. Smooth, Serg.”
“I—” I cut myself off with a groan, scrubbing my hand over my mouth as I rolled my eyes in her direction, looking for help, backup,something.
And silently, she answered as she came over to stand beside my chair, bending to fit her face in the camera frame beside mine.
She smiled at Sid, flooding the darkness in my soul with her bright and colorful light, and he grinned in response.
My eyes fixated on that little image in the corner of my screen, the one showing me and her side by side, and without a moment to stop myself, I thought,Wow, we look good together. Wefit.
“Hi,” she said, offering a little wave. “I’m Melanie.”
“Melanie,” he repeated, nodding, his smile never diminishing. He was always so much better at this shit than me. Being friendly. Warm and welcoming. “Corporal Sidney Sprague, ma’am. It’s lovely to finally make your acquaintance.”
I fought an eye roll at his formal introduction, but allowed myself a sigh and a shake of my head.
Melanie glanced at me sidelong as she asked, “Finally, huh?”
I hardened my glare at my friend, hoping he’d catch my silent drift, but of course, he was incapable of keeping his mouth shut. As usual.
“Oh, I’ve known of your existence for a long time now,” he said. “God, how long has it been, Serg? Fifteen … no, twenty years? Holy shit, has it been that long already? Fuck, we’re getting old …”
A noise similar to a growl rumbled from my chest as I turned from the phone to address Melanie. Her eyes met mine, only a centimeter or two between our noses and lips, and I sucked in a deep breath, my lungs filling with the earthy scents of snow and flowers and the wintry world she’d come in from. My brain hiccupped, tripping over itself in a frenzy to remember what I was supposed to be saying as I parted my lips, closed them again, and begged my dry tongue to rehydrate and stop fucking sticking to the roof of my mouth.
Sid snickered.
I cleared my throat, blinking away the urgent need to touch her face, her hair, her lips, and said, “Sid and I were in the Army together.”
“He hated me until I didn’t give him a choice but to fall in love with my charm and wit,” Sid said. “Then I married his sister, and now he’s stuck with me for life.”
“Ah,” Melanie said, tearing her eyes from mine—a small torture—to nod and address Sid. “One of the best friends.”
“Yes,” I clarified, dragging my eyes back to Sid’s grinning, knowing eyes. “One of the best friends.”
He chuckled softly, his gaze bouncing between Melanie and me. The way his teeth dragged over his bottom lip, I knew there was something nagging at the tip of his tongue. Something he was just dying to say, and I begged him with my eyes—pleaded—that he wouldn’t.
“Well, I guess I should try to get some sleep,” he said before feigning a yawn. “Seven a.m. comes fast.”
“Tell me about it,” Melanie replied.
“Honestly, most days, I’m not even allowed to sleep that long. One of my kids usually has me out of bed at the ass crack of dawn.” He blew out a breath that sent the hairs lying against his forehead flying. “You have kids?”
He knew she did; I had told him. But he was a good guy and was trying to make conversation. Trying to get to know her. As if it mattered. As if she wasn’t leaving. Playing along, just like I’d asked her to, pretending this wasn’t going to hurt. Pretending it wouldn’t break my heart all over again.
Shit. I sucked in a deep breath and turned away, looking toward the frosted windowpane.
“Three boys,” she answered. “Eight, five, and three. You?”
“Hey,” he said, his voice lilting on the happiness of someone who’d found common ground. “I have three too. My oldest son is ten, and my daughter is eight, and my baby boy just turned a year old a few weeks ago.”
