London Tides by Carla Laureano

Author:Carla Laureano
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FICTION / Christian / Romance / General, FICTION / Romance / Contemporary
Publisher: Tyndale House Publishers, Inc.
Published: 2019-06-05T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“SO, WHAT WAS ALL THAT about last night?” Chris sat down on the changing room bench after their outing, dressed in a navy-blue suit that seemed incongruously polished on his large body.

Ian shrugged and fastened his shirt cuffs with a pair of onyx links, a slight smile surfacing as he remembered Grace’s suggestion that they were his Kryptonite. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You kissed her in the middle of a crowd. I’ve never known you to even hold a woman’s hand in public.”

“Psychoanalyzing me now?”

Chris pushed himself up. “Come on, I’ll buy you breakfast. Surely you have time for breakfast.”

“For some posh investment analyst, you don’t seem to spend much time in the office.”

“I spend all my time in the office that I’m not here.”

“Which I’m sure Sarah is thrilled about.”

Chris winced. “Coming or not?”

Ian glanced at his watch. Nearly eight. Technically, the office didn’t open until nine, and with Ms. Grey in charge, it hardly mattered as long as he arrived by his ten o’clock conference call. “All right. If you’re buying. Where to?”

They ended up where they always ended up, the greasy spoon at Putney Bridge where Ian had brought Grace the morning of their first date. It was crowded today, packed with locals and holiday-goers filling up on EBCB—eggs, bacon, chips, and beans.

“Should have known this was where you’d go if you were paying,” Ian cracked when they took one of the few remaining tables.

“Where else?” Chris dumped half the sugar shaker into his tea and stirred it with a clank of cutlery against ceramic. He seemed to be choosing his words carefully. “You know I like Grace. I always have.”

“I sense a but coming.”

“But surely you can see the effect that job had on her. I know PTSD when I see it. She had a flashback because of the food last night, didn’t she?”

Ian stared at his friend. Chris was clearly speaking out of concern, but the things that Grace had told him were confidential. How much was too much to reveal? “I know what Grace is going through. She’s dealing with it.”

“I don’t think you do. And I don’t think she’s dealing with it at all. My brother served in the Balkans, and you know how long ago that was. Still has nightmares. Can’t walk down the street without checking his sight lines and escape routes. Sleeps with a knife under his pillow. Craig’s wife hung in there for a while, but after a few years, she couldn’t take it anymore. The drinking, the women—”

“That’s combat stress,” Ian said. “Grace hasn’t been in combat. She hasn’t killed anyone.”

“Do you think that’s any better? The things she’s seen—even soldiers don’t deal with that sometimes. You only have to look at her pictures, mate. She’s carrying around some heavy baggage.”

“So what are you saying?” Ian stuffed down the anger that threatened to spill into his voice. “Are you saying she’s damaged and I should write her off? You know me better than that.”

Chris leaned back against the booth and spread his hands wide.

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