Shadow Heart (Broken Bottle Series Book 1)

by Taeuffer, Pam

  “Well, among other things,” I couldn’t help but giggle at his rhyme. “Fine ear, so near, ha.” His smile let me know he understood how good he'd made me feel. “I want you to go to Yountville with me again. If you want to get to know me, we have to do things together. We'll go to neutral places first to see how it goes. Will you?”

  “I’ll go with you wherever and whenever you want,” he sat back against the booth. “But since I came here with you like you asked and we’ve already done the neutral stuff, will you do something for me?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Will you go out with me and let an evening unfold in whatever way it’s meant?” He looked straight into my eyes and didn't look away. “Each time we go somewhere you want, and vice versa, then we owe the other a date." He waited for my response. "And I’ll owe you a lot of dates." His sensual laugh made my thighs tighten together. "Is that fair?”

  Are you kidding me? There’s nothing fair about you.

  “I don’t know,” I hesitated.

  “You don’t know if you’ll go out with me, or if it’s fair?” He raised both arms above his head and then spread them out behind him on the top of the booth. The smile that fanned his face danced with the flame of temptation.

  “I don’t know if I can go out with you a lot. You’re too . . ."

  “Too?” he prodded.

  “I don’t want to lose control.” I couldn't hide it. He had to know my feelings. “You nailed it back there on the beach.”

  “I can’t wait for you to lose control.” His blue eyes seemed to flash a bright light at me. “I think about it all the time.”

  “I’m already in too much trouble with you.” I shook my head. "How can I possibly handle you?"

  “You can handle me . . . and pretty easily.”

  “Oh sure, Ryan. I’m not used to dating and certainly not someone like you. Look at what you’ve already done. Why in the world would you want to date me? I still don’t get it.”

  “Stop discounting yourself,” he shook his head.

  I’m always discounting my feelings. Why shouldn't I? My parents never validated my fears.

  “You may be naive in sex and love, but you’re not naive when it comes to people. I see how you observe. You don’t miss a beat. You're a smart woman and you know what you’re doin’. Even asking me here . . . mm-hmm, you knew.”

  “Well I, I just wanted to talk, and—”

  "I know you want to talk. I also know you wanted to check me out a little more,” Ryan interrupted.

  "Yes," I exhaled in a rush.

  “I know you're afraid. I relate to your fears about why you haven’t gotten involved with anyone."

  "How can you? You're surrounded by people whether you're on or off the field."

  “I know because I’ve battled those same control issues. After my father died, I vowed that no one would ever leave me first. I made damn sure to cut people from my life so they didn’t have a chance to hurt me."

  His big finger traced a circle on the table.

  Look at the size of his hands.

  “Every day I push myself to the very edge of pain with my workouts and training," he continued. "I make sure to have relationships in a way that wouldn’t mean opening my heart.”

  “Relationships as in sex, or girlfriends?"

  “I don’t have girlfriends,” he said. "I never have."

  “That’s why you have a reputation with women?” I shifted in my seat. "Love them and leave them?"

  “No, Nicky. I've never been in love. I’ve never wanted a relationship and I've always been honest with women about that." He hesitated. "If I'm being honest, I was afraid I’d be abandoned all over again. Sound familiar?”

  Are we so similar?

  “I'm ready with you. I'm not afraid any longer. Woman, you’ve made me want to open myself in every way. Maybe I’m wrong about you and me, but I see something great between us.”

  His words are like heated arrows. They enter my body, slip down to my belly and slowly drip below to . . .

  “I admit that I have been thinking about you." I grabbed the glass salt and peppershakers.

  "For how long?" He leaned on his elbow.

  Oh, he looks so sexy like that. God, I want to kiss his lips so badly.

  "Since last year.” I poured a little salt on the table, drew a heart in it and then filled it in with pepper. “That’s why I was frustrated when you stopped talking to me after Yountville. I don’t close myself off with sex like you have, but I stay busy like you do. Opening up to someone new is like stepping off a cliff. You're way ahead of me there. I’m so afraid of that.”

  “I know I’ve asked before," Ryan traced the heart I made with his finger. "Tell me honestly, are you afraid of me? I can imagine me being eight years older than you is intimidating.”

  “No, it’s that. Actually I don't think anything about our age difference other than the things you've gotten to do. I'm afraid the man I take a chance on will be my father all over again. It's not that he’s bad in every way. He’s, um . . .” My voice cracked along with my memories. “He’s good underneath everything, it’s just his bad side is . . . bad."

  "I'm sorry." He covered my hand with his.

  “It would break me if I ended up with someone like him. I’m not sure how I could ever recover if the person I took a chance with drank hard like Dad. I know we’re not talking about marriage or anything, but even taking one step for one date is a big deal for me. My dad left my mom to handle some really tough things all by herself. I don't want more on my shoulders. I have enough.”

  His debris is everywhere.

  “If you don't mind me asking, what kinds of things did your father leave your mother to deal with?"

  “My sister's rape, for one.” I put my head down. "She had to handle that night by herself because Dad was passed out."

  "Oh." Ryan's thumb slid back and forth across my hand.

  “Like you, I’m afraid of being abandoned. I've said those words to myself so many times. I'm afraid, I'm afraid . . . I think they're burned into my body as a tattoo somewhere. The thing is, I’m leaving next year, and won't one of us get hurt? What if we like each other a lot? Won't the pain of separation be too much?"

  "You think so?"

  "I know so." I crossed my feet under the table. "You're a good man and . . . I already love you as a friend. It won't take much more to push me into a deeper relationship with you."

  His eyes were beacons of blue light. I knew I'd just given him the words to move forward.

  "You’ve been so nice to me," I continued. "I don’t know what to do with your attention. I’ve hardly ever been with a boy, and here you are. You’re just so . . . nice. I mean personally, not your looks.” He knows that. Get on with it, Nick. “Well, I like your looks, too. How could I not, you know. I'm not superficial or anything, but . . . damn.”

  "It's okay, Nicky. Just say it. I won't make you regret that you revealed yourself. Keep talking. I love to hear you talk."

  "Well, I know this sounds silly, but I believe you have a sweet innocence about you. Sometimes, I sense you’re a little boy. Your heart is like . . . it's made from little stars and they blink at me.”

  “Oh . . ." He wove his fingers through mine. “I do feel innocent around you.”

  Ermina brought two waters along with two mugs of coffee and set them on the table.

  “Can you make my coffee Irish?” I joked. “I think I need a shot of something stronger.”

  “You’ve got a real nice guy here, honey.” She winked. “Be good to him. Do I need to fill the salt shaker?” She nodded to our drawing on the table and laughed as she walked away.

  “She’s your fan.” I poured some cream in my coffee.

  “I’m more her fan.”

  “Her fan? What do you mean?” As I blended the cream in my coffee, Ryan took a sip of water and began his story.

  Chapter 28

  Sam and Ermina’s Story

  “It’s not only my
father having been in the Marines that gives me a reason to go to Yountville. Sam and Ermina’s son, Samuel Junior, was injured in Iraq,” Ryan said. “He was like Johnny, but with a better prognosis.”

  “You don’t think Johnny will make it on his own?” I never considered that possibility.

  “I'm not sure about Johnny. He's been in and out of the hospital a long time, Nicky. I think . . ." he shook his head. I was sure he changed his stream of conversation. Was it to protect me from the shock of what Johnny had to face? "When Sam Jr. came home . . .” Ryan put his head down. “The paperwork stalled and rehabilitation was delayed. While Sam and Ermina waited for an assigned doctor who would follow him and understand his individual challenges, he struggled with seizures. It's a delicate balance trying to manage an injured brain."

  "I've been reading up on it," I said. "It's like throwing a coin in the air and calling heads or tails sometimes. There 's a certain pattern of treatment when they're critical, but during recovery . . . seems like there are some very general guidelines."

  "What people don't realize is for the survivors," the look of deep hurt shone in his eyes, "insurance often runs out when they leave the hospital, or shortly thereafter. Even worse, the rehabilitation and therapy they need is denied or limited to a few months. Mental health claims are tough."

  "How much rehab do they need?" A ping plucked my heart. I'd been interested in the vets and Johnny's case since last year. Hearing about Samuel Junior made me rethink my business plan and how I might incorporate brain challenges into it.

  "It varies. You've seen some of the differences at the Veterans' Hospital. Some people are highly functional in six months. For others it takes six years and longer. They all need more than just two or three months. For God’s sake, their brains are changed!" Ryan's face turned red. I could see his anger. "Stabilizing the individual is only the beginning. Unless there's money, the survivor ends up on the short end of recovery."

  "I hope that's not Johnny."

  "I hope it isn't, either." His eyebrows were knotted. "Still, the survivors are changed forever just like the injured person. Friends and family often can't handle it. Sometimes the only focus is teaching the person with the brain injury how to be socially appropriate."

  "I don't understand," I took a sip of my coffee.

  “One of the staff told me the sole focus with some patients is to keep them out of prison. The changes in their brain can turn them violent; they hit or verbally rage when they don't like what's going on because they don't have control over the part of their brain that rules emotion. Some never smile, cry or show joy.”

  "That's what happened to Sam Jr.? How’s he doing now?”

  “Sam Junior kept having small seizures. Except for that, he was doing pretty well. When his doctors finally found the right dose of medication, everything seemed to be on track. His occupational therapy was finally approved. It was to take place here at the restaurant under medical supervision. Then, he had a grand mal seizure and fell."

  "He got worse?"

  "He hit his head on the sidewalk on the way here.” Ryan's voice cracked. "He died."

  “He's dead?” I wasn’t prepared to hear the story end that way.

  Ryan’s tears fell.

  I got up from my side of the booth and sat next to him.

  “Oh, God. I’m so sorry.” I wrapped my arms around him and put my head on his shoulder.

  “I met Ermina and Sam at the Veterans’ Hospital in Yountville when he still had a chance,” Ryan said. “He was like Johnny, you know . . . bright smile and innocent.”

  His arm slid around my body.

  I felt as if he was holding on to me to fill up again.

  “Sam and Ermina had such great expectations for their son.” His voice vibrated against my heart. “Everything was set up so he could work here. They were with him every day, loving him, teaching him new ways to be . . . they didn’t deserve what happened.”

  “No, they didn’t," I said softly.

  “I can’t let her see me crying.” Ryan grabbed his napkin and wiped his eyes.

  I squeezed his arm and kissed his cheek. We sat close together for several minutes in that way when you hold someone who is hurting. It's as if I felt his heart calming.

  “I’m okay now.” His kiss came so lovingly that it was as if I’d been sitting with an angel. “It still gets to me.”

  “Of course it does. Why wouldn’t it?” I started to get up when his hands held the small of my back and he pressed his face into my stomach.

  He lifted his head.

  His eyes caught and held mine.

  “I love you, Nicky.”

  Oh God! I don’t know what to say. I’m frozen.

  “I love you too, my friend,” I said guardedly.

  “You don’t realize what a soft light you have. I’ve loved you since last year.” He kissed my stomach, squeezed my hand, and let me go.

  I go up and sat on my side of the table.

  My mind was a wreck.

  I knew my spine would no longer support me and so I braced myself against the wooden back of the booth.

  The way his eyes searched my face seemed to reach into my heart; I felt naked and completely exposed.

  While looking at each other, we grasped for new words.

  Thankfully, Ermina brought Ryan’s oysters just in time. Attractively served and still in their shells, the oysters were decorated with finely chopped purple onions. A bottle of hot sauce and sliced lemons were served on the side.

  Ryan squeezed the lemons and drizzled hot sauce on the oysters, slurping down the entire dozen. Wow, his mouth, those oysters just slide down like nothing. “Mmm, they’re good. This is the best place for fresh oysters and fish. Do you like seafood?”

  “Of course. Born in the City by the Bay and all. I love our Dungeness crab, bay shrimp, Pacific salmon, halibut; just about every kind of seafood. I’ve never tasted much of the east coast stuff. According to the press guide, you grew up there?”

  “Yes. My mother, brother and his wife still live there. It's a little town about an hour out of Boston.”

  As I sat across from him I couldn’t help but smile at the promise in front of me, especially when Ermina made her comment about him being a good man. In no small part because of it, I wanted to be with him a while longer.

  I pulled out my cell phone.

  “Jerry, it’s Nicky.”

  “You’re not canceling, are you?” Jerry asked.

  “No. I just called to tell you I’m running late.”

  “Okay, get here as soon as you can. Do you want dinner? Mom is cooking."

  “Sure. See you in a little while.” Of course Jerry understood. He rolled over like a puppy, only wanting his belly tickled. If I’d done that to Ryan, I envisioned he would probably take control in every way possible, wanting me to rub not only his belly, but also his entire body.

  “That’s a surprise,” Ryan said when I ended my call.

  “It is for me, too.” I was bewildered and amused by what I did.

  After I put my phone away, Ryan got up and sat next to me.

  I just opened a door.

  It was as if I was knocked off balance. The seed he’d planted from last year, suggesting possibilities for us, had sprouted.

  I glanced at the table and when his hand flattened on my cheek, I turned my head to receive his lips. He left my mouth burning like the hot sauce he’d put on his oysters.

  “We can continue this if you’ll come home with me.” His arms bulged as he leaned over. His mouth took my bottom lip with his tongue and licked it with soft desire.

  Something deep inside me clenched and tightened.

  “You know I, I can’t. I can’t do that,” I said after my lip slipped from his mouth. I took a breath between all of my words.

  “Why not?” He asked the question as if I should have no hesitation and then kissed me again. This time his tongue danced lightly on my tongue.

  “Because I’ll never come back.” I
gasped.

  Chapter 29

  Jerry Who?

  I held my hand out to stop Ryan from coming closer. Feeling his manly chest under my hand made my temples throb and the blood whoosh in my ears. I tried to get control of my breath, but it was jagged and uneven.

  Saying no to his invitation after he had admitted deep feelings for me was one of the most difficult things I’d ever done.

  “I’ll bring you home, don’t worry.” Once again he took my hand in his.

  “No, Ryan, what I mean is . . . I need time to absorb all the things you said so I don't get lost in an idea or a promise I don't even understand.”

  “I can hardly wait to be with you.” He took a few sips of coffee. "I guess I have no choice. I’ll have to let you go this time. Did you want to talk about anything else, sweet Nicky?”

  “No,” I giggled.

  "Why the laugh?" He tilted his head.

  “You guys crack me up with your Sweet Nicky comment. Sometimes Alex and Tara say that, too . . . so funny.”

  “They know sweetness when they see it."

  “Yeah, I guess,” I brushed off his sexy comment. “Oh yeah. There is something else. It's um . . . well, I know this is ballsy of me, but, I heard a rumor."

  "Yes?" He raised an eyebrow.

  "I understand it's none of my business and you can say exactly that to me if you want to, well, I know this is forward . . . do you have a child with your college girlfriend or another woman?”

  “Where did you hear that?” His frown told me he was bothered by the rumor.

  “I can’t say.”

  “Let me guess—Tara or Alex?”

  I felt my face flush.

  “I’ve always been careful to make sure I didn't bring an unwanted child into the world."

  “So that means . . .” I let him finish.

  “I don’t have any children."

  “Oh, I'm so glad to hear that.” I immediately reversed to explain my reaction. “I don’t mean there’s anything wrong with having a child. I just need to know who and what I’m dealing with. It seemed contrary to what I know about you, but . . . well, here's another one. Ready?"