His tent was small and sparsely furnished—a footlocker sat at the end of a narrow cot covered with the same olive sheets and thin scratchy blankets that were standard issue to the troops. A lantern hung from the pole in the middle of the tent and before he could ask, I lit it for him, the light throwing the shadows back along the walls. He closed the door and unrolled the flaps that covered the windows, giving us a little privacy. Then he came up behind me, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of my field jacket, and watched as I replaced the glass casing on the lantern. “Thank you for letting me borrow your coat.”
He stood so close I could feel his breath warm the back of my neck. The heat coursed through my body to curl in my groin and my hands trembled slightly on the lantern, causi
