Free ComfortZone by KJ Reed Page B

just give it
time. It’s not over. It’s just halftime.
    * * * * *
    Mary Ellen managed to avoid Brice for the rest of the week.
Wasn’t too hard. She stuck to her stables and her babies and let him do his
thing. The only real risk was during meals, but she knew exactly when Brice ate
every day, so it wasn’t that hard to sneak down, grab some food and run back to
her office.
    And how sad was that, sneaking around her own home? Camp
truly was home for her, despite her parents living not so far down the country
road. But she just wasn’t ready to deal with it. Or him. Not yet.
    “Knock knock.”
    Mary Ellen’s head shot up from paperwork. “Ariel! You’re
back.” Jumping up, she gave her friend a big hug. “And you’re tan. Hey lady,
you look good.”
    Ariel grinned and shooed her back into the office chair.
Hopping up on the dusty bench, she let her legs swing. “Honeymoons agree with
me, what can I say? So what have I missed?”
    Oh, nothing much. I just got in a fight with your brother
at the reception, then I had sex with him. And then we did that again, and it
was great. And I’m pretty positive my serious longing for him for the past
decade has morphed into actual, tangible love. And I don’t think he feels the
same way back. And I’m mad. And he’s mad. And I’m staying out of his way
because it’s easier than hearing that final “we’re through” speech.
    “Oh, nothing much.” She shuffled a few papers. “Actually…do
you wanna take a ride?”
    “Great!” Ariel hopped down and out the door and was halfway
to the stable before she yelled, “Gonna change into jeans and boots. I’ll be
right back. Saddle Rachel for me.”
    * * * * *
    Brice debated, for only the thousandth time that day, if he
should take the walk up to the stable. The elemental pull to be where she was,
to just be around her, watching her even from a distance, was uncomfortable.
The dull ache in his stomach as every day passed that they weren’t talking—even
in snips or swipes at each other like before—was worse.
    “You look like crap.”
    He didn’t even have to look up from his computer. “Hey,
Trav. Bring back my sister in one piece?”
    “More or less.” The other man flopped down on a chair and
hitched his boots up on the desk. “You know, it’s amazing how much I was
looking forward to getting out of here for a break. Thought I was getting antsy
after being so used to moving around with the Marines. Being settled in one
place, I didn’t think it’d agree with me. But while we were gone, I was ready
to just come home and start living.”
    Brice gave up the appearance of work and sat back, lacing
his fingers over his stomach. “You already had the townhouse set up to move
into, right?”
    “Whenever we’re not here. Which, during the summer, will
likely be often of course. I couldn’t drag her away from this place with a
crowbar. Not that I’d want to.”
    No, he wouldn’t. In the camp—and the Winstons—Trav found the
same thing Brice had…family. Besides his sister, Trav had only ever known the
Marines as his family. Some people might have been a little intimidated by the
tight group the Winston clan made, and how easygoing they were about
adopting—formally and informally—people into their fold. But Trav seemed to
soak it up like a sponge.
    He was good for his sister. And Brice was glad she found the
guy, however randomly it happened.
    “What’s been going on around here? Anything new, any fun
stories?”
    Oh, where to begin. Or did he even go there? Thanks to the
isolating nature of his job, friends outside of the camp were few and far
between. So the odds were, if he went to anyone, they were going to know Mary
Ellen too. There’d be a bias one way or another.
    “You’re struggling with it, that much is obvious.”
    Brice glanced up, saw the smirk on Trav’s face. “Struggling
with what?”
    “Whatever’s on your mind. I’m guessing it’s not camp stuff,
since you always have that