An Officer And Her Gentleman. Amy Woods

an implausible outcome.

      “Holy goodness, Mace. You scared the living daylights out of me,” Avery said, shoving a hand against her heart. As she leaned back and let her spine rest against the closed door, fighting to catch her breath, she studied her sister-in-law. Macy was, as always, as pretty at the crack of dawn—with her golden hair all messy and the imprint of a pillow seam etched into her cheek—as she had been on her and Tommy’s wedding day. Avery indulged in the memory—a time when everything was simpler, purer—before she’d brought home a personal hell that had begun to seep into all their lives.

      “Speaking of daylights,” Macy said quietly, tugging her frayed, pink terry-cloth robe tighter around her waist, “the sun hasn’t even risen and here you are looking like you’ve had quite a night.”

      Avery’s lips formed a thin line, but she held Macy’s gaze, despite the temptation to look away from what she saw in the sweet, open face.

      “What do you want me to say?”

      Macy closed her eyes and then opened them again, sympathy etched into her features. “I just want you to be okay, honey, that’s all. We all do.” She looked as though she might want to touch or hold Avery, but knew better from experience.

      Even though the conversation wasn’t anything new, something tugged at Avery’s heartstrings and for a second she longed to just collapse and let it all out—to tell someone how desperately scared she was, how the nightmares kept getting worse, and how she couldn’t always tell the difference between those and the flashbacks. How sometimes she wasn’t sure whether she was awake or asleep.

      But something else, something strange and new, told her this wasn’t the time or place...but that maybe she was getting close to being able to do just that...and that maybe Isaac was that place. As Macy waited for an answer to the questions she hadn’t voiced out loud but were always there, Avery thought back to the man she’d met that morning.

      Even under the strange circumstances that brought them together last night, he had been so calm, so sturdy and safe, like a lighthouse in a raging storm. He’d taken care of her without hesitation, and for some reason she knew he would have done the same for any wayward creature.

      He was the embodiment of that most rare and beautiful thing, something Avery had seen precious little of over the past few years: basic human kindness.

      “Well, now, there’s something you don’t see every day,” Macy said, a giggle bubbling up around her words. “You want to tell me what has you smiling like that, or is it a secret?”

      Avery, disbelieving, reached up and touched a finger to her lips, realizing only upon feeling their upward curve to what her sister-in-law referred. Before she could form a response, Macy’s eyes lit up and her mouth opened wide.

      “Oh, my gosh, Avery,” she blurted. “Were you—” she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned forward “—were you...with a guy?”

      “No!” Avery spat, but she wasn’t fooling anyone. She winced. “Well, technically, yes, but it’s not what it seems.” She held her palms out, hoping for emphasis.

      Macy eyed her with blatant skepticism. “Yeah,” she said, grinning, “usually when people say that, it’s exactly what it seems.”

      A little unexpected laugh escaped from Avery’s throat. She peered at her sister, her friend, with narrow eyes. “You’ve been watching too many romantic comedies,” she said, hoping to divert attention away from herself, blushing a little at the mere thought that Macy’s suggestion put into her head.

      She had a feeling it wouldn’t go away as easily or as quickly as it had arrived. Isaac’s dark, unruly hair twisted around her fingers, those deep brown eyes gazing at her with...with what, exactly? Lust? Over her?

      Not likely, at least not in her current state of skin and bones. She’d need to put on a good ten pounds before anything like that happened, or someone might get hurt. Before she could stop them, more thoughts tumbled in, unbidden. Suddenly, she remembered being carried in those arms—strong arms, brandished a deep gold by the Texas sun—and, for once, the thought of being held didn’t seem quite so scary. It was nice to feel attraction to a man, a welcome distraction from her usual preoccupations.

      “Something tells me I’m not too far off,” Macy said, interrupting Avery’s ridiculous reverie.

      It would be great if her dreams were more like that than the terrifying things they actually were. She met her sister-in-law’s curious gaze. “No,” she answered truthfully. “I did run into your neighbor Isaac Meyer, but it’s not like what you’re thinking.”

      Macy’s shoulders sagged and Avery’s heart bruised. How desperately she longed to bring smiles to her loved ones’ faces—not pain or disappointment.

      Macy reached out a hand, tentatively, and after a second’s hesitation, Avery grabbed it, anxiety and a desire for comfort raging a familiar battle at the sensation of human contact. Macy’s expression registered the wound, but there wasn’t much to say on the subject that hadn’t already been rehashed a hundred times.

      Her family knew she’d suffered plenty of emotional trauma during her last tour; she spared them the details of what happened in that place. She knew that these people who loved her were not the enemy. She knew they meant her no harm, but her body, and parts of her mind, still struggled with the difference between a friendly touch and a hostile one.

      “I’d be lying if I said it wouldn’t be nice to see you spending some time with a sweet fella,” Macy answered. “Isaac Meyer definitely fits the bill, and that boy has been single for way too long.” She gently squeezed Avery’s hand before tugging her in the direction of the kitchen. “Come on. Let’s get some caffeine in you and you can tell me what exactly did happen.”

      She winked and Avery rolled her eyes, but allowed herself to be led toward the energizing scent of fresh coffee.

      Maybe it wouldn’t hurt for her to talk to Macy about the strange past few hours. Maybe it would be nice to share breakfast and silly, carefree chatter about a man, like the old days.

      Or at least she could pretend to, for her family’s sake.

      * * *

      “All set?” Macy asked later that morning as Avery stepped into the lobby following her weekly appointment with Dr. Santiago, her therapist.

      Avery nodded and Macy smiled warmly as she put down a magazine she’d been reading, grabbed her purse and stood to leave. They walked quietly to the elevator, Avery reviewing her session with Dr. Santiago. Though she saw the doctor regularly, most of her previous appointments ran together, characterized only by the strong feeling that nothing ever really changed; some days were better than others, but overall, she felt she’d made no true progress over the past several months, a thought that only served to decrease her confidence that she would someday get past it all.

      But today—something felt different. Something felt...better. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Was it that she had tried harder to talk about her struggles? Had she simply opened up more? Yes, and no. She shook her head as she reached out to punch the down button on the panel between two elevators. Perhaps she’d made a little more effort than usual to speak frankly with the doctor, but it wasn’t just that. She always did her best during her sessions, always pushed as far as she could go, working to excavate that deep abyss of painful war memories. No. This time, it was something else. Something to do with her night with Isaac.

      “So, I was thinking,” Macy said, her words tentative, almost as though she knew before she spoke them that whatever idea she had would be shot down. Avery winced, fully aware that she had a large part in making her sister-in-law feel that way around her.

      Avery looked over to see Macy fiddling with her purse strap, her forehead creased. “What is it?”

      “Well, you know that new nail salon they just opened up the street from here?”

      “Uh-huh,” Avery answered, her thoughts still partly