Rowan

Chapter 6 | James

His time in the service had been long and dark and cold; he'd felt it in the blank stares of his comrades and the sense of resignation that seemed to settle over the atmosphere. War was just a thing; just an idea, until you were actually in the middle of it.

And yet he'd somehow kept his sanity, and he could swear that it had been because of the blonde beauty who resided in the back of his mind, beckoning him home. He could have sworn she was real.

And in fact there was a blonde beauty who looked just like the one who would slip through his mind when he should have been concentrating. She looked just the way he remembered, and she sounded the same. But the things coming out of that mouth were just not right.

"John?" he'd sputtered, incredulous to the idea. John was one of his oldest friends. It couldn't be...at least not in the way she was suggesting.

But it was.

And so he'd shut down. Curled in on himself and built an impenetrable wall around his heart and swore to never look at a woman that way again. At least not with affection, that is.

Only now there was a girl before him who was so damn infuriatingly different and he knew then that she was like him in a sense-he could see it in her eyes. She too had curled in on herself.

Except she wasn't cold.

•>•>•>

It was a long night of thinking back and forth about things, and still nothing made sense. All he knew was that he wanted to get rid of the image of Ada from his mind. It left a bitter taste in his mouth.

He needed to forget. He needed an escape from the bonds of his past. What could possibly break him free?

Perhaps taking his mind off of the matters at hand. His thoughts strayed to the pretty girl from the cafe. Rowan. She seemed safe enough. She wouldn't hurt him.

"What'll it be?"

He glanced up at the older woman and was struck by how much she reminded him of his mother. Her blue eyes were rimmed with black and she had a streak of blue in her thinning hair, but somehow it worked. She was lively and warm.

She cleared her throat, giving him a playful smirk. "I'm a little old for you, dear."

Shit!

He flushed. "Sorry. You just reminded me of someone. I'll have a coffee."

Her smile was kind and her eyes amused. "A special someone, perhaps?"

"My mother." He laughed at her expression. "And that's not a bad thing. I'm divorced, and my mum is about the only woman I'm willing to put up with."

There was a sparkle in her expression now. "I see. I'll take that as a compliment, then, and not a comment on my age."

He internally cringed. Damn if he didn't have a way with women.