“Micah!” a woman shouts from behind us. “You can’t take off like that.” With a toddler on her hip, she runs to her son and looks to Rowan apologetically. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s no problem, ma’am.”
“Mama, look. He’s in the army too. I think he might know daddy.”
She gives her son an appeasing look the way only moms can. “Maybe.”
The kid, unironically, soldiers on. “His name is Sergeant Aidan Sherwood and he’s in guitar.”
His mom chuckles. “Notguitar, baby. It’s Qatar.”
Micah scrunches his nose. “That’s what I said. Do you know him?”
Rowan runs a thoughtful hand over his chin. “Sergeant Aidan Sherwood, you say. You know what, I think I do.” The boy’s eyes go wide again. Rowan winks conspiratorially at Micah’s mom, then crouches down to his level. “Yeah, he and I met once. It was a long time ago so he probably won’t remember me, but Idefinitelyremember him. He was so brave. Like, the strongest, bravest soldier I’ve ever met. You’re really lucky he’s your dad.”
The woman preens down at her son, matching his bug eyes like she just can’t believe it either.
“He’s been gone a long time, but my mom says he gets to come home in two weeks.”
Rowan looks up to the woman who nods in confirmation, eyesglassy. His gaze drifts from her to the little girl in her arms then back to Micah. Nobody else may see it, but I notice as the memories of his own childhood flood his mind. Watching his dad leave time after time, returning many months later only to turn around and leave again. Until the final deployment when he never made it home.
He swallows hard. “Two weeks is gonna fly like that,” he says with a snap of his fingers. “Will you tell him Army Ranger Staff Sergeant Rowan Shaw says hello? He’ll know what it means.”
The mom grins knowingly, bouncing the baby higher on her hip. Micah nods in delight.
“What do you think, Micah?” Rowan asks, looking over at the stuffed animals. “Which one’s your favorite?”
After many,many, long seconds of deep consideration, Micah settles on the Bluey stuffy twice his size. The attendant swaps out my bear for the blue Australian Heeler.
Rowan hands it over to the boy. “Here ya go, kid.”
Micah and his family amble off a moment later. He avoids my gaze while he digs out his wallet.
“Don’t say a word.”
“A word about what? About how precious and adorable and sexy”—his eyes flit to mine, curious—“and incredibly kind that was?”
He shakes off the compliment and pulls out another ten dollar bill.
Laughing, I grab his forearm. “Seriously, I don’t need the bear.”
“I promised you the bear.” The attendant takes the cash. Rowan flips his hat around. “I’m getting you thedamnbear. You can just stare at my arms like you did before and thank me for the show later.”
Rowan plants his oversized man hand in the center of my face and shoves me behind him, efficiently cutting off my snarky retort.
Five seconds and seven bullseyes later, we’re headed back to the truck, my stuffed bear in one hand and the man I’m rapidly falling for in the other.
29
can i have this?
Hannah
Rowan clingsto my hand with a death grip as he weaves us through the parking lot.
Something in his demeanor shifted after his interaction with Micah and his mother. Like every wall he’d built suddenly collapsed into rubble.
“Rowan,” I pant, breathless from trying to match his long strides. “Slow down.”