over being a dad, struggled for so long without being able to talk to his wife about it without her exploding, and then he’d joined his unit and never come home. Been promoted to a Special Operations task force and tried not to look back.
But right now he had a chance, and he wasn’t going to walk away again without trying. All his life he’d been told he wasn’t good enough, had grown up thinking he didn’t deserve a family, that there was a reason he’d been left, that the way he’d been treated in foster care was normal. But he had a chance now to right the wrongs he’d made, to give his son the kind of home he’d wanted so bad as a kid, and to make things right with his wife. To stop being afraid of what if and live in the now.
All he needed to do was figure out how.
Ollie kept her hands busy with dinner and her ears on Luke. It wasn’t an easy conversation to be having, she’d give him that, but he owed it to Charlie to be straight with him. And if Luke hadn’t told him, then it would have been left to her—again.
“I know I said I wouldn’t leave you, bud, but it’s, well, it’s tricky.”
Charlie was pouting. He didn’t throw tantrums often, but she was starting to think this could turn into one.
“But you said,” he whined.
Now Ollie was sure they were moving into meltdown territory.
“Okay, I’ll make you a promise,” she heard Luke say.
Charlie jumped to attention then, his frown disappearing, but Ollie had one hover across her lips instead. The last thing she needed was to deal with a broken promise. She bit down on her lip, determined not to interfere.
“I promise that I’ll tell you where I’m going and for how long, if I go away. And I’ll phone you while I’m gone,” Luke said.
Ollie pretended to toss the salad, and tried hard to keep her eyes down. Could he keep that promise?
“Really?” Charlie asked.
“Yep, really.” Luke smiled and extended his hand. “Shake and it becomes a real promise. A man’s promise.”
Olivia dropped the serving spoon by mistake. A man’s promise? She didn’t know whether she should be hoping he’d be able to keep it, or annoyed that he’d even made it.
She turned to see Charlie slowly put his hand into his father’s. Trusting. Trusting that he could believe in the big promise his father had just made him.
“See these soldiers?” asked Luke, holding them up for his son to see.
Charlie nodded.
“This one here is a sergeant.” He reached out and placed it in his hand. “This fellow here, well, he’s a private.”
“What are you, Daddy?” Charlie’s question made Ollie’s breath catch in her throat.
“Well, son, I’m a lieutenant colonel, and that means I have to lead my men, to make sure that people like you and Mommy back here are safe. We have to go on special operations.”
Charlie had started out listening to his dad, but now he was walking the soldier figurines around the carpet. But Olivia was listening. How could she not? Because no matter what had happened between them, she was incredibly proud of Luke’s career.
Luke knew Ollie was watching. He’d known all along that she was listening, but he didn’t mind. Part of this promise was about showing her that he was serious about being a dad, but it was a hell of a lot easier to talk to Charlie than to her. Most of all, he just wanted to be honest, and talking didn’t come easy to him.
His men had always trusted him with their lives, but he knew that earning Olivia’s trust would be hard. And he still hadn’t told her the truth about where he’d been and what he had been doing. That he was part of a Special Forces task force, that he’d been immersed in another culture most of the time he’d been away. That he’d never been so terrified in his life, and that when he’d almost died, had come so close to becoming a casualty, all he’d thought of was her.
Luke left Charlie to his playing and joined Ollie in the kitchen. If he was serious about them giving this a real go, then he needed to make an effort. A big effort.
“So, uh, how are you feeling about last night?” Luke cringed at his words. Idiot. Not quite how he’d planned on saying it. Ollie’s face now flushed a deep pink and he looked down at his feet. He never had been very good at this whole talking business.
He looked up and found her fussing with the food she was making, maybe finding this as awkward as he was.
“What’s for dinner?” he asked next.
That at least elicited a smile in his direction.
“Oh, just lasagna with a salad. Nothing much.”
“Just lasagna? Sounds like more than nothing to me.”
“I’ve made dessert, too. Charlie’s favorite.”
Luke hated that he didn’t know what his son liked to eat.
“Chocolate cake,” Ollie said, as if knowing that he was floundering. “Slathered with icing and with a little ice cream on the side.”
“Sounds like we have the same favorites.”
They looked at one another. Luke couldn’t drop his gaze. There was something there, he knew it, something that hadn’t disappeared despite the time that had passed, despite the way things had ended between them. Olivia looked away first, but Luke couldn’t. He kept watching her, wishing that he was one for talking, about his feelings, about what he wanted.
But last night he had, and now he had to prove himself to her, and as easy as it would be to run, to go back to the army, he was going to try his hardest. Not just for Charlie, but because of Olivia. His wife. No more excuses. This time he was going to prove himself and make her believe in him again, and he wasn’t going to let her down.
Because maybe he did deserve it. Maybe he wasn’t destined to fail at being a husband and a dad.
Maybe, just maybe, he could be successful at more than just being a soldier. And maybe he’d come home for Olivia as much as he’d come home for his son.
CHAPTER FIVE
THE COOL WIND made the tiny hairs on Olivia’s arm rise in protest, but she ignored it. All she could think about was Luke, and no matter how hard she tried not to, it was impossible. Every month he’d been away she’d thought about him, so why had she expected it would be different, having him home? Perhaps without Charlie as a constant reminder, it might have been.
Olivia looked up as she reached her employer’s apartment. It was weird arriving on her own, when for almost a year she’d made the walk with a little hand tucked into her own.
“Hello,” she called as she let herself in, just in case Ricardo was home.
She was greeted by silence. Olivia shrugged off her coat and walked into the kitchen, dropping her belongings
