Fire with Fire (Crash and Burn, Book 3) (A Military Romance) Read Free

eager to ask him questions, but I keep my mouth shut. It’s clear he needs some space. I learned early on that pushing people only alienates them.
    At halftime, Dad turns the commentary down and gets up to snag a beer from the fridge. I hear the pop of the cap, which he tosses into the garbage. He comes back, sips. Slides a glance over to me.
    He wants to say something. I just need to wait and let him get to the point at his own time. I keep my attention on the TV, pretending interest in whatever they’re blathering about. Blah blah turnovers and fouls. I like basketball in general but I can’t focus on the game. Not with so much shit on my mind.
    “I want you to take over the bar with your brother,” Dad says quietly.
    I swivel my head to stare at him. “Pardon?” I can’t have heard that right.
    “Well, or at least help him run it until he finds a partner,” he continues like I didn’t speak. “I don’t think it’ll be too hard. With the remodel, it’ll be a much better investment for someone.”
    “But…the bar was your dream,” I say, stunned. Hell, it’s even named after him. This isn’t what I expected. Not at all. “I don’t understand. You leave for several days and then you come back and…what? What are you going to do now? Start a new career at your age?”
    Dad levels an even look at me. “Why not? I’m not dead.”
    I flinch. “Sorry. That was uncalled for. I’m just…” I sigh and rake my fingers through my hair. Shift on the couch so I’m facing him. He looks so tired, so aged. This wasn’t exactly the homecoming I was hoping for; it’s been months since I saw him. “I’m worried about you, Dad. You’re not yourself.”
    “Haven’t been myself in a long time.” He’s still quiet. Dad’s not one to raise his voice normally. “It was wrong for me to just take off like that—leaving Xander in the lurch to run the business alone wasn’t right. I’ll talk to him about that, make it up to him. But all the driving around, just letting myself think, it helped me realize I’ve been surviving but not thriving.” Dad pauses, takes a draw from his beer.
    “There wasn’t a better way to rediscover yourself without scaring your sons shitless with worry?” I ask in a pointed tone.
    He shrugs. “That’s fair, and I’m sorry. Your mom would have had my hide over that. She was always protective of you boys.”
    To say the least. Mom was smothering on her best day. But her overprotective nature aside, she did care about our feelings, I admit. She really would have lashed out at Dad for scaring us this way.
    “I miss her too,” I tell him.
    He nods, then looks back at the TV.
    Now that Dad’s back, though, the house doesn’t feel so much like only hers. More like it used to be, with both their presences giving weight to the place. Looking around, I see pieces of Dad starting to creep in, take over, and it’s losing its museum-like feel. His packs of half-empty cigarettes stashed around the end tables. A pair of dirty socks tossed in the far corner. War-themed DVDs stacked by the TV.
    Would he ever sell this place? Does he want to leave the last of Mom behind and try to find happiness alone? I don’t know how to feel about it. This was my childhood home, and I never imagined it being sold. Of course, I always thought my mom would be around, too.
    I scrub my face, my head starting to pound at the temples. Now’s not the time to push him for answers. He’s not much of a talker, so even opening up this much is surprising. “I’ll help Xander with the bar, of course,” I tell him. “I wanna go to school, get a degree, but I plan to work in the meantime.”
    Dad grunts his approval and raises his beer bottle to me, a nonverbal cheer. “I’m sure you’ll be great at whatever you do.”
    The praise makes me flush, and some of my stress fades. I shake off the compliment and sip my drink. “So, you think they can come behind from this big of a deficit?” I ask, nodding at