A Broken Christmas Read Free

gathered from his commander, about Kyle’s extensive surgeries and rehab in Germany. They’d saved his leg. His hand, too. But Aimee knew Kyle well enough to understand whatever had caused those injuries had done far more internal damage than Kyle let on.
    He’d cut Conner off. Refused to take even a phone call from his best friend. A standard job gone wrong wouldn’t have divided two men who’d spent almost ten years guarding each other’s backs. Guarding each other’s secrets. Something more had happened out there in that desert. And nobody was talking.
    Least of all to her.
    “Hey. Here he comes,” Walsh murmured.
    Aimee rose on her toes, trying to get a better look over the small gathering. Her vantage point at the back of the crowd, however, only gave a brief glimpse of khaki and beige caps exiting the plane. “Where?” she asked.
    Conner pulled her to the left and pointed through a gap in the excited crowd. “Right there.”
    Her searching gaze landed on Kyle, and her heart swelled to painful limits. His cane didn’t matter. The limp he bore with quiet dignity didn’t change a thing. Kyle was home. Home. Seeing him alive—every instinct in her body ordered her to run across the asphalt. To throw her arms around his neck and kiss him until they were both breathless and panting. Like she had the last time he’d returned. And every time before that, for the last six years.
    Reality, however, kept her feet from moving forward. There would be no happy reunion. The minute Kyle saw her, he’d be as pissed as a snake and every bit as ready to strike. He’d wanted his divorce so badly he had stayed in Germany just to effect North Carolina’s mandatory year-long separation. Claimed when he left for his tour last October that he had no intention of returning. He didn’t want her here.
    The papers said it all. But Kyle had yet to say a word of it to her.
    No, when he saw her waiting to take him home, when he realized she hadn’t moved out of their house, he’d be furious.
    Nerves kicked in, and she clutched at Conner’s arm again. “Oh, Conner. He’s never going to forgive me for this.”
    Conner tossed her a smirk. “Well, that’ll make two of us. We can commiserate over beer, and maybe you’ll decide I really am the better looking one.” He nudged her with his elbow. “You can always marry me, you know.”
    Aimee couldn’t help but laugh. Conner’s good humor always had a way of making grey skies into blue. Since the night she’d met him, on Kyle’s arm at a formal military ball, Conner Walsh had been trying to convince her she’d made a mistake. None of it serious. No, Conner’s loyalty to Kyle ran deeper than blood. But the jest had entertained all three of them many times.
    Conner pulled her in for a sideways hug and kissed the top of her head. “Okay, hate to do this, but I’m gonna get.”
    “What?” Wide-eyed she stared into his baby blues. “You’re not leaving me here, are you?”
    “You think I’m going to confront that?” He jerked a thumb in Kyle’s direction. “I’ve made more than enough effort, babe. You’re on your own.”
    Oh crap. Being stranded by Conner hadn’t been part of her plan. At least not until she and Kyle had returned to their house.
    Ruffling her hair, Conner turned her loose. His mischievous smile softened with sincerity. “Good luck, Aims. Maybe you can kick some sense into him.”
    The statement Conner had made mid-summer drifted back to her mind. Major says he’s pretty fucked up, Aims.
    Her gaze pulled back to Kyle. Why had he wanted out? Yes, things had been difficult since her miscarriage the previous March, but the only explanation she’d received was from his lawyer—Kyle didn’t want her hurting anymore. All attempts to discover more, to dig deeper, yielded utter, maddening silence.
    Well, time to get some answers. She had a week before New Years. Two before she started the ER nursing job in San Antonio. Either she’d change Kyle’s