Читать книгу Two Dauntless Hearts онлайн | страница 27

Pride forced him to pull the board and iron out. In less than ten minutes, he had the wrinkles smoothed. While the garments were still warm, Pitbull slipped into them and pulled on socks and shoes. He found the necktie he’d picked up at the Post Exchange on Camp Lemonnier, looped it over his neck and knotted it expertly. He might not have grown up in the best neighborhood, but his mother had taught him how to knot a tie for church.

He smiled at her memory. The woman had worked hard all her life, only to die of breast cancer when Pitbull had been in BUD/S training. She’d insisted he not come home for her funeral, knowing how difficult the training was and how much harder it would be to have to start over.

He still regretted not being with his mother at her bedside until her last breath. His parents had always been there for him and believed in him. They always told him that he could accomplish anything he set his mind to.

Except save his mother.

As an only child, he’d felt the burden of guilt for not being there for her when she’d needed him most.

His father had been there, comforting her as she left life and, as he’d said, joined the angels.

Pitbull had never been sure of angels and religion, but he’d experienced days in battle when nothing but a miracle could have saved them, and then it had. He liked to think his mother had been watching over him.

His father was still alive, living in Virginia, still a little lost without his wife. He’d been heartbroken by the loss and hadn’t dated or dared to love another woman since. Pitbull visited him as much as possible when he was Stateside in Little Creek, Virginia.

Having witnessed his father’s heartache, Pitbull had been hesitant to get that involved with any woman for more than a date or two. He didn’t want love someone he might lose, and suffer the way his father had.

This thing he was feeling about Marly was nothing more than insta-lust. It would fade and she’d be out of his life when they left Africa.

He ran a comb through his hair, smoothing it into place. The longer he took to get ready, the more jittery he became. Dressed thirty minutes early, he had nothing else to do but wait. Hell, he might as well wait outside.