The Captain's Second Chance

by Elana Johnson

  “Ready for what?”

  “For us,” he said, his voice breaking slightly as he emphasized the last word.

  “Are you breaking up with me?” she asked, her voice bordering on hysterical.

  “No,” he said, folding her into his arms. “No, of course not.”

  Brooklynn clung to him, so close to breaking wide open again. Her shoulders shook, and Dave whispered, “Don’t cry, sweetheart.”

  But Brooklynn couldn’t help it.

  She cried.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Dave opened Brooklynn’s door with one hand while he kept her close with the other. He got her inside and down the hall to her bedroom. She curled into herself and he curled himself around her, stroking her hair and letting her cry.

  When she finally quieted, Dave asked, “What can I do?”

  “Nothing,” she said.

  He felt…he didn’t know what. Stupid, for sure. How could he have thought she’d moved past her first husband? She kissed him like she was falling for him as fast as he had for her. They’d spent so much time together over the past couple of months, and she’d started out anxious and guarded, and now she was happy and carefree.

  Well, she usually was.

  She’d told him about multiple therapy sessions, and she always had a good story or two about the dogs she’d groomed that day. And yet, she harbored darkness inside her he didn’t comprehend. He had a feeling he never would.

  “Once,” he said. “I was stationed on the East Coast, up by the Statue of Liberty. We’d patrol the ocean out there, and there’s a lot of boat traffic in and out of the bay where the National Monument is.”

  She stilled in his arms, and he wasn’t sure if he should keep talking or not. But he decided to keep going. “An unfamiliar boat came on our radar, and we prepared to board it. That’s something we do all the time. It’s routine. We make sure there are enough lifejackets and that all the safety equipment is working properly. Well, anyway, this boat wouldn’t give us permission to board.”

  “Do you need permission?” she asked.

  “No,” he said. “We just give polite notification, ask anyway. So we boarded the boat, and it was clear there were multiple violations. They tried to say they were a deep sea fishing boat, but there were no instruments for that. No equipment. My gut told me there was something wrong, and I’ve learned to listen to that instinct.”

  And right now, it was telling him that Brooklynn needed more time. More therapy.

  Dave didn’t want to be a jerk, but he needed things too. He deserved to have all of her, not just the parts Ryker had broken and left behind. Not just the parts she was willing to fix. Frustration mingled inside him, and he didn’t continue his story.

  Brooklynn didn’t ask either, so they lay there in silence until he said, “I should go.” He slipped away from her, wanting her to get up and walk him to the door. Kiss him good-night. At least call him back.

  She didn’t do any of those things. Just said, “Okay. I’ll talk to you later.”

  Dave went down the hall to the kitchen and let her dogs out the back door so they could take care of their business. That done, and the pups back inside, her locked the door and went out the front, locking that one behind him too.

  As he walked away, his gut told him it was the last time, and all he could do was hope it was wrong.

  Someone rang Dave’s doorbell at six-thirty the following morning, making the law enforcement persona he could be emerge. He straightened from where he’d been clipping the leash to Tantor’s collar. “Who could that be?” he asked the dog.

  Tantor didn’t whine or even move toward the door. He’d done so well this weekend, and Dave didn’t want to take him back to the shelter. But every time he went, the dog he’d taken last time wasn’t there anymore. Starlee said they’d been getting adopted, so he knew Tantor would be okay.

  Knocking reverberated through the house, and Brooklynn called, “Dave? It’s Brooklynn.”

  That got him moving toward the door, and he practically yanked it off the hinges to get it open faster. She stood there in a jeans and a jacket, clutching a bakery bag in one hand and carrying two cups of coffee in the other.

  “Come in,” he said, opening the screen door and taking the coffee from her. “Sorry, I was a bit startled someone would ring my doorbell so early.”

  “I wasn’t sure what time you went to work,” she said, stepping past him and into the house. “And I didn’t want to miss you.” She bypassed the living room and went into the kitchen to set down the bakery bag.

  Tantor followed her, and Dave couldn’t help but do the same. She acted like nothing had happened last night, but something had. Something big.

  “I can’t stay long,” he said. “I have to be in Port Angeles in an hour, and I have to stop and drop off Tantor first.”

  She turned toward him, a shaky smile on her face. “I’m sorry.” Her voice sounded close to breaking, but it held. “Last night was a disaster, and it’s my fault.”

  “How is it your fault?” By his recollection, he’d brought up the fact that they’d talked about marriage.

  She reached into her pocket and held out her fist to him. Dave looked at it and then back into her eyes. “What’s going on?”

  “Take this, please,” she said, shaking her fist slightly.

  Dave extended his hand out too, and she dropped something into his palm. It was her former wedding ring, held by that silver chain he’d seen her wear often.

  Often.

  “Brooklynn,” he said quietly. “I can’t take this.”

  “I don’t want it,” she said, her voice strong. He watched her transform from the shaky woman to the powerful one who knew what she wanted. “I thought it helped me feel more normal, but it doesn’t. The only thing that does that—the person who does that—is you.” She stepped closer to him, and Dave’s heart grew wings and started to lift with hope again.

  “I thought I needed that ring so I could be more complete, but I realized last night as soon as you left, that you make me feel more like myself than I have in years. Not that ring.” She didn’t even glance at it.

  She fiddled with the buttons on his shirt, sending sparks through his whole body. She had no idea what she did to him, and Dave wasn’t going to tell her until they were married. Maybe not even then.

  “I sure do like you,” she whispered, an echo of words he’d said to her so many times over the past few months.

  His first instinct was to kiss her and tell her everything would be all right, but he hesitated. “What do you want me to do with this?” he asked, keeping his hands between them, the ring still glinting in the light coming through the windows.

  “I don’t care what you do with it,” she said.

  “Then you take it.”

  “I’ll throw it away.”

  “Then maybe that’s what needs to happen.” He watched as an inch of anxiety entered her expression. She didn’t want to depend on it anymore, he understood that. But he also suspected she wouldn’t really throw it away.

  “Okay,” he said. “I’ll keep it.” He shoved the necklace in his pocket, and she stepped into him so he’d had nowhere to put his hands but around her.

  “I’m sorry,” she said again, just before kissing him. She moved in a slow, careful way, almost like she was trying to explore his mouth and make sure she found every part of it.

  He certainly didn’t mind, and he kissed her back in the same slow, round way. She sighed and leaned her head against his chest. “So we’re okay?”

  “I didn’t know we couldn’t talk about our relationship at dinner,” he said. “And I certainly didn’t know you thought I just went out on a boat and sailed around the bay.”

  “I guess I don’t know what you do,” she said, stepping back. “And Dave, I need to know.”

  Of course she did. “All right,” he said. “Maybe we can talk about it tonight?” He glanced at the clock. As much as he’d like to stay here and tell her everyt
hing about the last twenty-two years of his life, he had to get to the port—and that was after he picked up Audrey.

  “Tonight’s fine,” she said. “My house? No, I’ll come here. Our romantic weekend sort of took a backseat when we got Pierce.”

  “I thought it was fun,” Dave said.

  “It was,” Brooklynn said, stepping over to the bakery bag. “But I wanted romantic. And then my family dinner killed everything.”

  Dave snaked his arms around her and pulled her into his chest. “Not everything.” He swept her hair to the side and kissed the back of her neck and along her shoulder to her ear.

  She giggled, and the things that had cracked last night seemed glued back together. Tighter than ever.

  “I brought apple turnovers,” she said. “The trees should be blooming soon.”

  He took the treat from her and picked up one of the to-go cups of coffee. “Thanks, sweetheart. Can you really take Tantor back to the shelter?”

  “I really can. My first client isn’t until ten today.”

  “Thank you.” He kissed her quickly, swiped his keys from the counter, and headed for the garage. “Then I’m going to go. I’ll see you tonight.”

  “Bye,” she called from behind him, and he left her in his house while he went to work.

  He paid attention to every detail of the day, and none of them were dangerous. They were on patrol that day, which meant they monitored the sea traffic the same way the police would monitor street traffic.

  They boarded six boats, from casual fishermen to a family going boating to a big ship coming into port to deliver supplies.

  Dave loved his job; he did. But the gun on his hip had never felt so heavy, and while his faith in his relationship with Brooklynn had been restored by her early-morning visit, he still wasn’t convinced she would ever be ready to stand next to him and say, “I do.”

  “So what’s the point?” he asked himself as Mitch hailed another boat to do another routine boarding.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Brooklynn canceled all her clients for the day and instead, curled into the pillows on Dave’s couch and sipped her coffee. It disappeared pretty quickly, and she left the house to take Tantor back to the shelter. On her way back to Dave’s, she went through the drive-through at Brewed for fresh coffee, and she nursed that now, hoping to make it last until noon.

  She wasn’t sure why she didn’t want to leave, only that she didn’t. She wasn’t melancholy, but her thoughts felt frenzied in her mind. Unable to focus on any one thing, she picked up her phone and called Darcy.

  “Hey,” the other woman said. “Can I call you back in two minutes? I’m almost under the dryer.”

  “Sure,” Brooklynn said. Darcy hadn’t answered her text from last night, and she felt distant and removed from everyone and everything.

  It was a lot longer than two minutes, but Darcy did call back. “What’s up?” she asked, a soft whirring in the background.

  Brooklynn sighed. “I was just wondering if you had time for lunch today.”

  “Probably a bit later,” Darcy said, her voice chipper. “Maybe like one or so. I’m getting my hair bleached and colored today, and it takes forever.”

  “One should work,” Brooklynn said. “I’m thinking of inviting Julie too. Is that okay with you?”

  “Of course,” Darcy said. “I’d love to meet her.”

  Brooklynn talked about Julie all the time to Darcy, but she hadn’t mentioned Darcy to Julie. Yet. She hadn’t wanted her best friend to feel like Brooklynn didn’t need her anymore.

  “She might not be able to,” Brooklynn said. “She works in a law office, and they have some busy days.”

  “Whatever,” Darcy said, and Brooklynn wished she could be as carefree about things. She reminded herself that Darcy had lost a brother, not a spouse. And no one came along and tried to be a replacement for her brother.

  A replacement.

  Horror struck her heart, making it sing like a gong. No wonder she hadn’t been able to move past Ryker and make something serious with Dave work. She’d been thinking of him as a replacement all this time.

  She said she’d text Darcy about the final details of lunch later, and she put in a call to her group therapist.

  “Brooklynn,” Dr. Jackson said. “How are you?”

  “I’m wondering if you have any time for a private session today?” she asked in a rush, hoping to get the words out before she lost her bravery.

  “I’m with a client right now,” the doctor said. “But I could squeeze you in for a few minutes in about a half an hour.”

  “I’ll be there.” Brooklynn hung up and got off the couch. Dave’s house was as comfortable as hers now, and that fact didn’t elude her as she drove into downtown and parked at Dr. Jackson’s building. She was early, but she didn’t care. She checked in, and she sat in the waiting room, trying to sort through her thoughts and feelings.

  Why was that so dang hard?

  “Brooklynn,” the receptionist said. “He’s ready for you.”

  She jumped to her feet and followed the woman down the hall, nervous energy zipping through her like an electric current.

  “Right in here,” she said, gesturing toward an open office.

  Brooklynn went in, her heart beat flapping a bit in her chest. “I’ve never done a private therapy session,” she said to Dr. Jackson, who stood from an armchair to greet her.

  “It’s just like group,” he said, shaking her hand. “Except there’s no group.” He smiled at her, and she sat in the other armchair as if they’d have tea together and talk about the upcoming Spring Fling.

  “So tell me,” he said kindly, his wrinkles appearing around his wise eyes as he smiled. “What brings you to your first private session?”

  “My boyfriend,” she said, quickly realizing that no, Dave wasn’t the reason she was there. “I mean, me. How I feel about my boyfriend.”

  “And how do you feel about your boyfriend?” Dr. Jackson had no notebook to write in, nothing to look at. Only her.

  “He’s the first man I’ve dated since Ryker’s death,” she said, twisting her fingers around themselves nervously. “And I like him so much. But he doesn’t think I’m ready.”

  “Why would he think that?”

  She told him about the dinner, the necklace, their conversation that morning. Dr. Jackson listened and only asked two clarifying questions before letting her continue.

  “And I don’t know,” Brooklynn said, unable to get herself to call Dave a replacement. “I just feel like if I can’t figure this out, I’m going to lose him.”

  “And you don’t want to lose him?” Dr. Jackson asked.

  Brooklynn shook her head, tears gathering in her eyes.

  “Grief and loss take time to overcome,” Dr. Jackson said. “Your fear is your biggest obstacle. Do you fear being unfaithful to Ryker?”

  “Sometimes,” she said. “In the beginning. But now…no, I don’t feel like I’m being unfaithful to him by dating Dave.”

  “Can you name your fears surrounding Dave?”

  “That I’m not good enough for him.” She held up one finger. “That he’ll die on the ocean, the same way Ryker did.” Another finger. “And that I’m trying to replace Ryker with Dave, and he deserves more than that.”

  Three fingers.

  Three fears.

  Dr. Jackson watched her for a few seconds. “You have incredible self-esteem,” he finally said. “So I’m not sure why you’re worried you aren’t good enough for him.”

  “He’s a Captain in the United States Coast Guard, and I groom dogs for a living.”

  “This isn’t about your occupations,” Dr. Jackson said. “Dig deeper.”

  Brooklynn didn’t want to dig. Digging hurt. “His house is nicer than mine. He makes a lot more money than I do.”

  “Mm hm,” Dr. Jackson said. “Keep going.”

  “He’s happy, and I feel like I have happy moments, but really, I’m just getting by.”

&
nbsp; “And there’s the real reason. You think that your supposed unhappiness will bring him down.”

  Brooklynn looked away. She’d never focused down on why she felt inadequate to be with Dave. In fact, she wasn’t sure she’d even been able to pinpoint that she felt like she wasn’t good enough for him until she’d said it.

  “What makes you happy?” Dr. Jackson asked.

  “Dave,” she said immediately. “Dogs. The apple orchards. My family, though sometimes I want to strangle them.”

  They both laughed, and Brooklynn felt her heart take courage.

  “I’m afraid our time is up,” Dr. Jackson said. “This was a quick session, because you didn’t have an appointment.” He stood and started for the door. “But I’d love to see you again, privately. In group too, if you’d like. But I think you’ll make better progress if we can talk about your specific needs each week for a little while.”

  “I’ll make an appointment,” she said.

  “As many as you want,” he said with a smile, and Brooklynn left his office, at least some of her feelings sorted out. Unknotted. Free for her to examine and then do something about.

  “So we have twenty men for the bachelor auction,” she said later that day, her Cobb salad in front of her almost gone. Darcy looked at Julie, who had been able to sneak away for forty-five minutes.

  “You should do it,” Darcy said.

  “I’ve done the bachelor auction before,” Julie said, glancing at Brooklynn. “Remember Finn?”

  “Oh, you can’t count Finn,” Brooklynn said with a laugh. Lunch with her friends was what Dr. Jackson should’ve ordered, because Brooklynn felt a million times better already.

  “Oh, I’m counting Finn,” Julie said, spearing another piece of asparagus from her salad. “And it was a disaster.” She leaned toward Darcy. “He was a lawyer in a rival firm. Thank the stars he moved, or I never would’ve been able to show my face at work again.”

  “Well,” Brooklynn said, a new sparkle in her whole soul. “You don’t have to kiss men on the first date.”