Hallowed Ground - Page 4/116

Something shifted in my stomach, an unease that crept up my throat. “Everything okay?”

“It will be once you get here.” He tried to sound upbeat but didn’t quite make it.

“Okay. I love you.”

“I love you so much it hurts. See you in an hour.”

We hung up, and I cranked some music, but I couldn’t shake the crappy feeling that settled in my chest, or help but think about that Ephesus application in my bag.

I walked through our front door five minutes earlier than the GPS predicted. Our living room was partially put away, some of my books haphazardly stacked on the white bookshelves, and a few framed pictures were laid on the square coffee table.

My fingers grazed over Dad’s face and that familiar ache returned. Two years, and I still missed him every day.

“I thought you might want to decide where to hang them,” Josh said, coming from the small dining room where our four-person table from my old apartment was a cozy fit. He kissed the side of my head and pulled me into a hug, chasing away the sadness with his love.

“That sounds great,” I answered, wrapping my arms around his back. He’d already changed into a pair of jeans and a Henley. I had to admit, I liked my Josh better than Lieutenant Walker. “What is that heavenly smell?”

“Takeout from the Italian place down the street. I grabbed your favorites,” he said, leading me to the table after I took off my jacket and dropped my bag.

We sat and my mouth watered at the tortellini Alfredo in front of me. “This looks so good.” I shot him a sly grin. “Is this what I have to look forward to at the end of my school days?”

He laughed. “Day three and you’re ready to divvy up the household chores.”

My cheeks flamed because…

“Don’t worry, I know you already have a color-coded chart somewhere dictating what needs doing and when. Just stick it on the fridge, and we’ll get it done.” His smile melted me more than the wine he’d poured.

He knew me way too well. “The chart isn’t color-coded, but that’s not a half-bad idea.”

“There’s a fresh pack of highlighters waiting for you in the desk drawer. Now tell me everything about the first day of your last semester of college.”

I filled him in on everything about the classes but paused when I thought about the application. “There’s…there’s a dig.”

“Another one? That’s awesome. Where are you going?” he asked as if it was nothing, simply taking another bite of his food.

And I loved him all the more for it.

Josh would never hold me back, never discount my dreams to pay for his own. That’s why I couldn’t abuse that love. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not going. I don’t even know if I’d get in.”

“You’ll get in. Why don’t you want to go?”

“It’s not a two-week trip this time, it’s two months, in Ephesus, Turkey, and I don’t want to be away from you that long.”

“Turkey?” His fork paused on the way to his mouth.

“Yeah, and not the bird.” I shook my finger at whatever smart reply he was thinking. Jagger had rubbed off on his sense of humor.

He quirked an eyebrow. “You should go. That’s huge.”

“We just clawed our way through a very complicated two years, Josh. This is our time, our chance. You’re too important to me to press pause so I can play with some dirt.” Some really cool, very rare, historically badass dirt.

“You really should go.” His voice dropped an octave, and his gaze fell to the tablecloth.

“Oh no, you’re not going to be all selfless and Joshy about this. I want this time with you—barbecues with our friends and sneaking off to watch you fly. I can do research from here. I don’t need to go to Turkey. I need to be with you.”

His fork hit the plate, the clanging obscenely loud in our bare house. “We won’t have the summer together, December. You should go, because I won’t be here.”

I carefully set my fork down, a sickening foreboding settling over us. My food turned over in my stomach as my heart jumped.

“Why? Why won’t you be here?”

“God, baby. I’m so sorry.”

And just like that…I knew.

“Say it.” Don’t say it. Deny it. I glanced over to where the double-star service flag hung in our window. Paisley and I had thought they were so cute when we’d bought our matching set. But while Paisley’s were both blue, one of our stars was gold for Dad. I ripped my eyes away, refusing to think of stitching any other color onto it, and locked eyes with the man who owned my very soul. “Tell me, Josh.”

“We’re on deployment orders.”

My eyes slid shut, like I could block this out, hide from it. It could be Honduras, Guatemala, hell, even Korea. It didn’t have to be over there, to that country that had nearly killed him and had ultimately taken my father from me.

“Where?” Our eyes locked, every ounce of the love we’d worked so hard for pouring between us, trying to fill the cracks that would soon become a canyon of distance.

“Afghanistan.”

So much for being just happy.

Chapter Two

JOSH

The word flew from my mouth, and I would have paid anything to take it back, to wipe the look of total and abject fear off her face. She didn’t deserve this.

Any of this.

Life dealt Ember a shit hand, and rather than being the prince, I’d just turned myself into the joker—some sick act of irony. “Babe.”