Brothers in Blue: Matt

by Jeanne St. James

  “Shit!” Greg crowed from the other side of the table, bouncing in his seat. His arms waved wildly, causing Max to deflect a hand from cracking him upside the head.

  “Oh boy, here we go,” Amanda mumbled.

  “Oh please, you say much worse,” Marc reminded her.

  “Greg, we don’t say ‘shit’ at the dinner table,” Ron scolded the younger man sternly.

  “Shit,” Greg whispered, then shot everyone a great big smile.

  His mother released a loud sigh. “I can’t wait for Hannah to become a parrot also. I can just hear it now. Curse words in stereo at holiday meals,” Mary Ann said, shaking her head. “And this is why we can’t go out to eat in public.”

  “Your food is much better than any restaurant anyway, Ma,” Matt told her.

  “Why didn’t you invite Carly?” She pinned him with a stare.

  Heat rose up his neck when all eyes fell on him. “Why would I invite her?”

  His father, who sat to his right at the opposite end of the table from his mother, snickered and concentrated on sawing at his slab of roast beef. He popped a piece into his mouth and gave him a smirk, before saying, “Why wouldn’t you?”

  “Pop…”

  “Son, it’s only polite. Even if she is only your roommate.”

  The way his father said “roommate” made all eyes land on him once again. In response, Matt concentrated his attention on the matching salt and pepper shakers sitting in the center of the table.

  Shit. Fuck. Balls.

  “Is there something going on that I need to know about?” his mother asked from the other end of the table.

  “No, Ma. Nothing.”

  “Ron?” she asked her husband, her eyes narrowed.

  “Nope.” And then his Pop gave his mother a wink.

  Son-of-a-bitch.

  A feeling of dread came over Matt as his mother’s eyes widened. He could practically see her mind spinning with making nuptial plans already.

  “Don’t even let him screw with you, Ma. There’s nothing going on,” he assured her.

  “Okay, whatever you say,” she answered, smiling down at her plate.

  “Screw!” Greg repeated loudly.

  “Fuck!” Matt cursed. This dinner was turning into a disaster.

  “Fuck!” Greg echoed.

  “Thank you,” Amanda said to Matt with a sarcastic tone.

  “Just ignore it,” Max said to his wife.

  “How does he know which words are the bad ones?” Matt mouthed to Max.

  Max just shrugged and went back to eating.

  “How are you sleeping?” Leah leaned close to him and asked.

  This was also not a topic he wanted to discuss at the dinner table in front of his family. Though, honestly, it had surprised him when he woke up this morning after five hours of solid sleep. But he also woke with Carly spooned against him. And a painful erection. Even so, this was the second time in forever he’d actually slept decently. The first time was when they slept together on the couch in the sunroom.

  When he was by himself in his quarters his sleep pattern was always restless. Constantly full of flashbacks and nightmares. Some nights, he’d get up and simply pace. Others, he’d jump in his 4Runner and end up driving for hours until he became exhausted.

  Even with complete exhaustion he sometimes couldn’t sleep peacefully.

  He thought about asking the therapist for sleeping pills. But, again, he didn’t want to take meds. He hated even taking aspirin.

  But when he slept with Carly, it was completely different. Not to say that spending the night with her was the reason for sound rest, it could just be coincidence.

  Right.

  “Leah asked you a question, asshole,” Marc said, leaning forward around his fiancé to shoot him a look.

  As if on cue, Greg tilted his face to the ceiling and yelled, “Asshole!”

  Amanda groaned, Max laughed, and Matt shot his middle brother a scowl. “I’m fine.”

  “Anytime you need to talk…” Leah said in a low voice close to his ear.

  Matt nodded. She was the one person he could talk to and she would actually listen. Actually hear what he said and not judge him.

  At that moment, Hannah announced her arrival back into wakefulness by wailing.

  Matt shoved his chair back as his spine stiffened from the sound. He shot to his feet and faced his mother. “Sorry, Ma, I have to go. Thanks for the meal.”

  She frowned at his half-eaten plate. “You’re not staying for dessert?”

  Baby Hannah’s wail turned into an angry cry and he winced, his shoulders growing tight.

  “No, I have to go.”

  Max shot him a look of concern. “She’ll quiet down once Amanda nurses her.”

  “It’s not that.”

  Of course it was that. And the look on Max’s face proved he knew it too.

  He grabbed his plate and headed toward the kitchen, trying not to wince every time the baby inhaled a deep breath to scream her lungs out. How can something so little be so deafening?

  “Why don’t you invite Carly over here to dinner this weekend?” his mother called out as he disappeared around the corner.

  He pretended not to hear her and, after scraping his plate and then dumping it into the sink, he practically ran out of the house.

  As he rushed down the porch steps, he almost slammed right into Teddy.

  Teddy put up his palms to keep from being bowled over. “Whoa, whoa, handsome. Why in a rush?”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Well, if you must know, Ma invited me for dinner. Unfortunately, I had a last-minute blue hair come in for a rinse, so I figured I’d at least stop in for dessert.” Teddy tilted his head, listening. “Are those Hannah’s healthy lungs I hear?”

  “Yep.”

  Teddy frowned. “Now I see why you’re in a rush to skedaddle. But your Ma made her coconut cake. Damn it.” He plugged a hand onto his hip in contemplation. “Hmm. Yeah. Her coconut cake may be worth the wailing. I might have to borrow some ear plugs or I might be crying along with her.”

  “You do that,” Matt said as he brushed past him.

  Teddy reached out and snagged his arm, halting his escape. “Hold on, Matty. You okay?”

  Matt knew the man wasn’t asking about that exact moment. He meant after the episode at the hospital. “Yep.”

  “You know I care about you, right? You know I joke about wanting to marry one of you Bryson boys, but you guys are like my brothers. Your family is my family. I’m grateful you all have accepted me for who I am.”

  Matt glanced longingly over at his truck. Escape seemed so close, yet so far. He closed his eyes for a second and sighed while Teddy continued.

  “I accept you for who you are too. I just wanted you to know that. So does Amanda and Leah, and everyone else who is blood.”

  Matt stared at Teddy’s hand on his arm until the man finally released him, lifting his palms in surrender. “Fine. You have to go? Go. If you ever need someone to talk to, you know where to find me. Hairdressers are the best listeners.”

  Matt frowned. Why was everyone suddenly volunteering to be his sounding board? “I thought that was bartenders.”

  Teddy waved a hand in the air. “No, we’re the best. Bartenders come a close second.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  The other man shrugged and started up the steps.

  Matt took a few strides toward his Toyota, then stopped and called out to Teddy, “Hey! I just want you to know I appreciate the offer.”

  He shot him a big smile. “Anytime. Anyway, you might not want to marry me, but we’ll always be brothers for life.” And then he laughed and blew Matt a kiss.

  Matt groaned at the gesture and hurried to his truck, shaking his head.

  Matt parked the 4Runner alongside the garage and stared at the house. The lights were on downstairs and he had to assume Carly was home. When he slipped out of her bed early this morning, she had still been
sleeping. He had carefully unwrapped her limbs from his so he didn’t wake her up.

  Then again, she slept like the dead.

  It could be tempting to stay in her bed every night if he always got a restful night’s sleep like that.

  He should have woken her up and slid inside her again this morning until she climaxed. But she had to head to work and he didn’t want to disturb her.

  However, what they missed doing this morning, he couldn’t get out of his head right now.

  Would she be willing?

  His cock was certainly wide awake and very eager.

  After adjusting himself, he got out of his SUV. He unlocked the front door and listened carefully, wondering where she was.

  The sound of a fork scrapping against a plate came from the kitchen and he headed that direction. When he got to the doorway he stopped. She sat with her back to him, eating some leftovers. She ate by herself with no one to talk to while he had eaten his Ma’s home-cooked meal.

  He was such an asshole.

  What would it have hurt to include her? Nothing but the torture of seeing his mother’s hopeful expression.

  “Are you just going to stand behind me like that or are you going to come in?” she asked without turning around.

  He entered and moved across the room to lean against the counter to face her. He regarded her as he crossed his arms over his chest and his legs at his ankles. Strands of blonde hair escaped her disheveled bun and she wore her turquoise-colored glasses, which magnified the dark circles under her brilliant green eyes.

  But she looked sexy as all get-out, anyway. His chest tightened.

  “You ate?” she asked.

  He nodded, but she was concentrating on her plate. “Yes. At my parents.”

  Without looking up, she picked at what now he recognized as a frozen meal, not leftovers.

  “Sorry.”

  This time her head popped up, a surprised look on her face. “For what?”

  “Not inviting you.”

  She blinked, then frowned. “Why would you feel obligated to invite me?” She waved her fork between the two of them. “This is just sex, right?”

  Right.

  When he didn’t answer, she asked again, pinning him with a stare. “Right, Matt?”

  “Right. Just sex,” he finally answered, not meeting her gaze.

  “You disappeared early this morning. How are you feeling?” She placed her fork on her plate, took a sip of what looked like iced tea, and settled her gaze on him.

  “Fine.” He studied the linoleum. Funny how he’d never paid attention to the pattern before.

  “You think the panic attack was just a fluke?”

  He shrugged. “Don’t know.”

  “Well, aren’t you Chatty Cathy.” She scowled and pushed away from the table, standing up.

  “Sorry,” he mumbled.

  “Will you stop apologizing? Nothing to be sorry about.” She lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. “You don’t feel like talking, then don’t talk.”

  She took her plate to the sink which brought her inches from him. She was close enough that he could feel her body heat and catch her feminine scent. He fought from taking a big whiff. That might come off as being a bit weird.

  Not that he was normal as it was.

  She rinsed off her plate and loaded it into the dishwasher. Once she straightened, she turned to face him.

  “Did you see the baby?” Her face softened instantly at the mention of Hannah.

  “Yes.”

  “How is she?”

  “Noisy.”

  Carly snorted. “Kids usually are.”

  She was right. Children could be very noisy.

  As he pictured Hannah crying in her carrier, he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to fight back the memory as it morphed into running, screaming children. Lots of them. Too many of them. Panicked. Scared. Desperate. None of them asked to be put in that situation, that horror, that suffering.

  There was one he would never forget. Never. That image would always be burned in his brain.

  No babies. No more babies.

  “No babies,” he said as he started to shake.

  “What?”

  “No babies.”

  Her hand suddenly gripped his arm. He tried to open his eyes, to come back to the present. But that baby…

  The infant. One not much older than Hannah face down in the mud. Too still. No life. Alone.

  So very alone.

  And people running. Scattering. Ignoring the lost life. Stepping over a forgotten child in a rush to save themselves.

  It was if no one cared for the innocent.

  “It’s not fair to bring helpless beings into this world. We could do nothing to protect them. Nothing.”

  “I’m sure you did everything you could.”

  “It wasn’t enough. Never enough.”

  Matt released a ragged breath. His hands gripped the counter behind him. When had he uncrossed his arms?

  He opened his eyes, and spots floated across his vision. He couldn’t see Carly. He couldn’t. He tried harder. He knew she was there within reach because he could feel her hand on his arm.

  But he couldn’t see her.

  He could only see the puddle of mud. The dirt, the filth, the dead.

  “I want to go back.”

  Did he say that out loud? His words sounded as if in a tunnel. A long, hollow tunnel.

  Chapter 13

  What? You can’t!” Suddenly Carly was now the one in panic mode. Her heart thumped in her chest as she watched Matt’s face harden, his skin pale, his eyes turn distant and cold.

  His Adam’s apple bounced as he swallowed hard. “I need to go back.”

  “No.” She shook her head adamantly. “No, you don’t.”

  “There’s so much to do over there yet. We’re not done. Everything is a complete mess. So much destruction. Death. We must help them.”

  She laid her palm on his chest. She needed to get his attention, get him to heed her words. “Matt, listen to me. It’s not your responsibility. You can’t shoulder the guilt of what happened, or still happens, over there.”

  “So many children died. So many lives lost.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “We’re not fighting for our freedom. It’s greed. Plain and simple.”

  “And that’s never going to change.” Sad, but true.

  However, Matt wasn’t listening. He remained clearly stuck in his head. “I left people behind. I left my unit.”

  “You had no choice.”

  “I could go back,” he whispered.

  “They won’t let you reenlist.” Especially when it had been a permanent disability discharge. From what she understood it was necessary due to his mental health issues. Though now was not to time to remind him of that.

  “I could go back on my own.”

  Carly’s breath caught. Her heart squeezed and a sudden helplessness flooded over her. Once again she asked herself how could she fix someone so broken?

  And reminded herself once again that she couldn’t.

  Being a doctor, it was the hardest thing to understand. She couldn’t get into his head. She alone didn’t have the power to make him better.

  She could only love him, support him, and care for him, hoping one day he would—could—respond. To realize the people and family surrounding him loved him. Honored him. Cared for his well-being. They didn’t judge him for the things he had to do out of desperation to survive.

  He needed to understand he could still make a difference. Only here at home instead.

  Then it hit her. She just admitted to herself that she loved him. Could that even be possible? She’d only known him for a couple weeks, and the man was a complete, utter mess.

  She studied him. He was a beautiful mess, but a mess, nonetheless.

  This was not what she needed on her plate.

  Her goal was to save money, buy a place, adopt a baby, and have a successful practice.

  Not
deal with…him.

  As well as his problems.

  So when had the “just sex” become more?

  He kept talking and she had no idea what he muttered as she watched his lips move. Most likely still rattling on about heading back overseas to that hell hole.

  And here she was, freaking out over some feelings she might have for him. If they were even real.

  The last thing she needed was to tell him. He would totally come apart. Not to mention, probably disappear again. She had to keep her so-called feeling to herself. Keep it casual. Then, when she landed on her feet financially, simply withdraw herself from his life.

  Quickly, quietly, painlessly.

  A harsh laugh burst from her lips. Who was she kidding?

  Matt’s moving lips stilled to a crooked slash and he stared at her without blinking. Shit. He probably thought she callously laughed at something he said.

  Carly watched a muscle tic in his jaw. Suddenly the tic disappeared, he blinked, and his expression relaxed.

  She still had her palm on his chest, and his heart beat steadily under her hand. Thump, thump, thump.

  He wanted to go back.

  She realized it wasn’t for selfish reasons, but selfless intentions. He actually cared more about others than he did himself. He would sacrifice the last thread of his sanity to try to help the defenseless, the innocent, the vulnerable. Despite his PTSD, he was a better human being than anyone she’d ever met. Even herself. She wondered if he even realized it.

  Yes, he had tendencies of violence. Yes, he could be moody and an asshole. However, he’d lay down his life for someone, if need be. Deep inside that black piece of coal a diamond shined.

  He frowned at her. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “Like what?” she asked, her lips curving into a smile.

  “I don’t know, but it’s weird.”

  “Are you saying I’m weird? Because you may have to look in the mirror.”

  His lips twitched and the corners of his light blue eyes wrinkled. “I’d rather look at you.”

  She shook her head at his attempt to change the subject and stepped back from him, putting the table between them. Time to get real. And he probably won’t like it. Or even take it well.