Page 69 of Beau

She followed, intent on wrapping her arms around him in an attempt to ease his sadness.

Aurelie was brought up short when his arm shot out, shoving a towel in front of her.

When she took the towel, he stepped out of reach, quickly dried himself and left the bathroom. He headed for his backpack, extracted shorts and a T-shirt, and disappeared down the hallway to the living room.

The heat of their passion was effectively extinguished by Beau’s icy withdrawal.

For a moment, Aurelie stared at the empty hallway. A less stubborn woman would have given the man his space.

They didn’t call Aurelie her father’s daughter for nothing. When an Anderson wanted answers, he or she went after them. Fiercely. Relentlessly.

She dried, grabbed an oversized T-shirt and pulled it over her head. The hem fell to the middle of her thighs, covering enough.

She ran to the living room.

Beau sat on the floor, staring straight ahead with Lady curled up in his lap.

Aurelie lowered herself to sit beside him. She reached for his hand and held it in hers.

For a long time, neither spoke.

Just when she thought Beau might have fallen asleep, he said, “Everyone died.”

She froze, not wanting to move even a fraction of an inch and stop the flow of Beau’s words.

“Everyone but me,” he said so softly she wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly.

She didn’t comment, and she certainly didn’t judge. She just held his hand while he unburdened his conscience.

“I was last in the chopper and was struggling to secure my harness when a mortar round blew through the fuselage into the cockpit. We weren’t more than twenty feet from the ground when it happened. The round exploded. My next memory was waking up in a field hospital, the lone survivor of the crash.”

Aurelie’s chest was so tight she could barely breathe.

“Everyone died in that helicopter,” he whispered.

“Except me,” she said, lost in the memory of waking up in the hospital, crying out for her mother, only to be told she was dead.

How long they sat on that floor, Aurelie had no idea. She leaned against his shoulder, taking comfort in his strength and knowing she wasn’t alone in her guilt. She truly believed she should have died when her mother had.

Beau stirred beside her. “We’re a pair. We make passionate love and then sit staring at nothing, feeling sorry for ourselves.” Setting the dog on the floor, he pushed to his feet and reached for her hand. “The least we can do is get some rest so we can do this again tomorrow.”

When he held out his hand, she gripped it and let him pull her to her feet. She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her cheek against his chest. “I’m glad you took the job,” she said.

His arms rose up around her. “Me, too. Come on, let’s get a real night’s sleep in a bed.”

They walked into the bedroom and climbed into the bed.

Beau pulled Aurelie into his arms.

She rested her cheek on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. “If you had died in that helicopter...I would have died in the bayou.” She tipped her head up to meet his gaze. “You had to live to save me.”

“And you had to live so I could save you, thus saving myself.” He laughed. “We must be tired. We’re not making sense.”

“We’re making the most sense right now,” she argued.

A high-pitched yelp sounded from the floor beside the bed.

Aurelie leaned over the side and reached for the little dog.