Giving It All

by Arianna Hart

  “She was going to find Bill, remember? I don’t think I want to have the image of them going at it against a tree in my head for the rest of my life.”

  “You’ve got a point.”

  “Don’t worry, I know exactly where she put the wine.” Nadya smiled slyly. “And that she brought three bottles, not just one.”

  After dropping his parents off and changing out of his uniform, Grant hitched a ride with a passing patrol car. The walk to the area they had roped off as a dance floor took forever as people stopped him every few feet to chat.

  Finally, Grant reached Ellie, who was talking to Peter at the edge of the dance floor. There was a band set up in the gazebo playing country tunes and a group of people were line dancing on a plywood dance floor laid out on the green. The sun was only a few inches above the horizon and twilight was fast approaching. The soft, golden light painted a glow over Ellie and he felt his heart skip in his chest. She laughed out loud at something Peter said and he felt an answering smile on his face. He’d forgotten what it was like to laugh this much, to feel this lightness, this happiness at just the sight of a person.

  He slid around behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her neck right below her ear, a spot he knew drove her nuts. “What’s so funny, beautiful?”

  “Peter was regaling me with a tale about the first time he tried line dancing. I don’t believe half of it, but it was funny.”

  “I still have the scars on my ankles from the cowboy boots. There’s a reason they call it boot scootin’, if you don’t scoot out of the way, those boots will kill you.”

  “I had a buddy who could do the entire ‘Cotton Eyed Joe’ from start to finish without missing a beat. He tried to get us to do it when we went to a bar in San Antonio. It didn’t end well,” Grant said.

  “Now there’s a mental picture. A team of Navy SEALs waving pretend lassos and shuffling across the dance floor.” Peter pretended to imagine it. “Nope, I just can’t see it.”

  “It wasn’t pretty.”

  The music changed tempo to something slow and romantic.

  “I promised your folks I’d dance one for them, would you help me keep my word?” she asked.

  Grant hesitated, feeling a touch of nerves at the thought of everyone looking at him, waiting for him to take a misstep with his fake foot. Ellie looked nervous herself, her eyes wide and vulnerable in her beautiful face.

  “I probably won’t be able to do any fancy spins or turns, but I can definitely do that.” He pointed to a couple of teenagers who weren’t so much dancing as hanging on each other and swaying.

  “I don’t know how to do anything fancy anyway, so that’s just my speed.”

  “You two lovebirds go off and I’ll just see if I can score some of that whiskey Junior Miller was handing out behind the sandbox,” Peter said, winking at Ellie.

  “Be careful, I’m not sure if it’s whiskey or moonshine,” Ellie said. “Remember what happened the last time you had ’shine, Peter.”

  Grant found a spot on the rapidly filling dance floor and pulled her close. Her floral scent wrapped around him and made him think of cool sheets and warm bodies. “What happened last time?” he asked to distract himself from the hard-on he was getting holding Ellie against him.

  “When Peter first moved to Dale to take over his uncle’s paper, some of the men welcomed him to town. Peter didn’t realize the kick of moonshine until too late. He ended up taking off his shirt and singing show tunes in the back of Tommy Peterson’s pickup. J.T. had to put him in a cell until he passed out just to get him to shut up.”

  “I can’t believe anyone still makes moonshine. I remember drinking that once in high school. I thought it would burn a hole through my esophagus and it tasted twice as bad coming up as it did going down.”

  “It’s trendy now. There are moonshine tastings and contests too. It’s becoming big business.”

  “Sometimes I feel like I’ve landed in an alternate reality. It looks like Dale, but it’s not the Dale I remember.”

  “Things change. Thank the good Lord. If this was the Dale you remember, I’d be sitting in the shadows being a wallflower and you’d be dancing with Chastity.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “I do. I didn’t slow dance with anyone until Josh and I went to his brother’s wedding when I was twenty-three.”

  “Why?”

  “No one ever asked me to. No one ever saw me.”

  “I’m seeing you now,” Grant said, getting lost in her beautiful hazel eyes. He lowered his head and kissed her. Just like today during the parade, the rest of the world disappeared and it was just the two of them. She tasted of tart wine, chocolate and Ellie. It was a heady combination that fogged his brain and drugged his senses.

  The sound of applause and cat calls penetrated his lust-dulled brain and he lifted his head only to realize the music had stopped and he and Ellie were alone in the middle of the dance floor.

  “Get a room,” someone called with a laugh.

  Ellie’s face was bright red and she hid it against his shoulder.

  Go big or go home.

  “Sounds like a great idea,” he called back, scooping Ellie in his arms and taking her out of the crowd surrounding them.

  “We can’t just leave, everyone will know what we’re doing,” Ellie squawked as he grabbed her purse from a laughing Nadya and headed for her car.

  “So? It’s not like they wouldn’t guess if we waited for half an hour. Why waste the time when I could be peeling you out of that dress instead?”

  “I’m sure there’s some reason a woman with more morals than I have would think of, but when you say things like that, I just don’t care.”

  He let her legs slide down his body when they got to her car and pressed her against the car door, letting her feel what she did to him. She moaned and rubbed against the bulge in his pants, clutching his shirt in her fists.

  “Here, you drive. My legs aren’t working right. And hurry.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He waited until she’d buckled herself in and then drove off like the hounds of hell were on his tail.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Ellie could barely breathe. Grant had his hand on her thigh and was teasing her sex through her underwear with his pinky. She reached over to tease him as well, but he grabbed her wrist and stopped her.

  “Don’t distract the driver.” His smile gleamed in the darkness.

  “If you don’t stop teasing me, I’m going to come right here, and that will be an even bigger distraction.”

  It was her turn to smile as she heard his sudden intake of breath. Enjoying his reaction, she reached under her dress and pulled off the white, lace panties she wore, dropping them in his lap. They were damp with her desire for him and the musky smell filled the tiny car.

  “Fuck!” he swore as he almost ran over their mailbox. He’d barely had the car parked behind the garage before he unhooked her seatbelt and hauled her across his lap. He clamped his mouth down on hers as he drove his fingers into her waiting channel.

  Two strokes, it only took two strokes before she shot over the edge with an orgasm that shook her to her toes. Grant captured her gasps with his mouth as he continued to stroke her. His jaw was clenched tight, and his eyes gleamed hotly in the dimness of the car. She wanted to trace every line on his face and see it relax as he felt the same pleasure he gave her.

  “Take me to bed, sailor.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She climbed off him and out of the car with shaking knees. His touch just destroyed her, and she couldn’t wait until he did it again. They ran up the stairs like a couple of kids shushing each other and laughing. They were hardly through the door when Grant pinned her against the counter and untied her dress. Her nipples immediately pebbled into hard points at the touch of the cool air. Grant groaned and captur
ed one in his hot mouth, sucking it hard, causing an answering pull low in her womb.

  Ellie arched her back, offering him her body to do with what he pleased.

  “Condom, in my back pocket.”

  “Pretty sure of yourself, weren’t you?” she asked, reaching around to grab the foil pack and then staying to slip her fingers under the waistband of his jeans.

  “Just wanted to be prepared.”

  “I love a man with a plan,” she whispered and bit his ear.

  He growled and switched to her other breast while pushing the skirt of her dress high up on her thighs. Ellie unbuckled his pants and shoved them over his hips along with his boxer briefs. His cock sprung up to his belly, the head dark red and glistening.

  She wanted to taste the drop that pearled at the tip, but Grant stole the condom from her and rolled it on. In seconds, he was inside her, filling her and sending her senses flying. She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist and held on while he slowly drove her crazy. He was so darn strong, he could hold her up and still while he slid in and out of her tight body. The feel of his muscles surrounding her with their steely strength made her feel weak and feminine. They were so in tune, their bodies synced at an intimate level. As the pressure built inside her, he began to pump harder, faster. Sweat trickled down his face and she licked it off, liking the saltiness of his skin.

  “Fly for me,” he growled, biting her on the soft skin where her neck and shoulder joined.

  Her hips bucked as the wave of desire crashed over her. Grant let out an explosive breath as he too rode that wave of ecstasy.

  Their bodies were stuck together as they breathed each other in. In the background, Ellie could hear the muted bangs of the fireworks going off. Feeling loose and relaxed, she unwound her legs from Grant’s waist and snickered as her knees almost refused to hold her up.

  “Let’s get a drink and sit on the balcony so we can watch the fireworks. I bought a six-pack the other day if you want a beer.”

  Grant didn’t answer her. He stood still as a statue, his jaw locked tight and his eyes empty of all emotion.

  “Grant? Honey? Are you okay?” He looked like he was frozen, except his breath was coming so hard and she could see his pulse fluttering in his neck like a wounded bird. “Grant? What is it?” She reached for his arm but, before she touched him, he grabbed her wrist and had her flat on the floor, his body covering hers.

  “Be quiet, they’ll hear you,” he whispered, his voice harsh.

  “Who? Who’ll hear us?” she asked, feeling frightened.

  “Tangos. They weren’t supposed to be in these hills. Stay low.”

  Oh, God, he was having a flashback. She’d read about these but couldn’t remember what to do. Was it like when someone was sleepwalking? Was she supposed to wake him up or not? His eyes glittered as he crouched over her. He seemed to be searching her apartment for something, but she knew he wasn’t seeing her plants and couch. He was miles and miles away.

  “Grant. It’s me. Ellie.”

  “Ellie?” His face lost some of its roughness.

  “Yes, that’s right, Ellie. You’re safe. You’re home, in Dale. In my apartment. You’re safe. No one can hurt you here. I’ve got you. I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again.” Tears slipped from her eyes as she watched him struggle with demons only he could see.

  She tried to reach up to stroke his face, but he grabbed her hand and yanked it down.

  “Stay down! Don’t make yourself a target.” He squeezed her wrist tightly and she knew she’d have bruises tomorrow, but that didn’t matter.

  “Grant, listen to me. Hear my voice. Hear me. It’s Ellie. You’re in my apartment. We just made love. Those are only fireworks. No one can hurt you. No one will hurt me either.”

  She continued talking to him, saying his name and her name over and over. His heart beat so fast, she was afraid it would burst right out of his chest. The floor was hard and he was heavy, but she didn’t dare move. The fireworks continued to explode in the distance, and with each muffled boom, Grant tucked her closer to him until she was afraid he’d crush her.

  Her heart ached for him, for what he’d seen and experienced. She nuzzled her nose into his chest and kept whispering reassurance to him. After what seemed like hours, she felt his body start to relax, only slightly, but he wasn’t rock hard above her.

  “Grant, it’s Ellie. You’re safe, you’re okay.”

  “Ellie? What?” He shook his head as if trying to clear it. “What’s happening?” His voice was thick, dull.

  “I think you had a flashback.”

  Awareness slowly came back into his gaze, but his pulse was still too rapid for her liking. Sweat dripped off him, smelling sour instead of clean.

  “Oh my God. Why are you on the floor? Did I hurt you?”

  “You were trying to protect me. I think the fireworks sounded like rockets or something. You didn’t want to let me up. You didn’t want me to get hurt.” She could see the fear in his eyes as he ran his hands over her body.

  “I’m fine. You didn’t hurt me. I swear.”

  He rolled off her and ran a hand through his hair. “Jesus Christ, I still have the fucking condom on.” He slid it off and got to his feet.

  Ellie scrambled upright and fixed her dress. God, she was so out of her depth, she didn’t know what to do, what to say. How could she bring him back to her?

  When he came out of the bathroom, she knew he’d retreated so far, he might as well be in Alabama.

  “Don’t do this.”

  “What?” Grant asked, his face guarded.

  “Don’t pull away from me. Talk to me, tell me what you saw. Tell me what I can do. Don’t close me out,” she begged.

  “I can’t. I just can’t. I have to go. Are you sure you’re all right?”

  Tears flowed down her face, and she let them, refusing to make this easy for him. “I told you, you tried to protect me, not hurt me. You did nothing wrong.”

  “This time. But what if I thought you were an enemy? What then? What would you do if I freaked out again and held a knife to your throat? Would you still try to protect me from my actions then?”

  “You wouldn’t do that. I know you.”

  “You can’t be sure of that. There are plenty of guys out there who’ve hurt wives, kids, their parents. I won’t be one of them. I love you too much to risk hurting you.”

  He walked out before she could unscramble her brain from hearing him say he loved her. She ran to the door, intending to chase after him, to demand he explain that comment, to fight for him, for them. She was too late. By the time she got to the top of the stairs, he’d taken his mother’s car and pulled out of the driveway.

  Ellie slumped to the porch floor. Her legs refused to hold her. Sobs wracked her body as fireworks exploded above her.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “Mrs. Anderson? I’m returning your cookie tray,” Ellie called through the screen door. She was hoping no one was home so she could just drop the tray and run without getting into a prolonged visit. It had been two weeks since Grant had walked out on her and she hadn’t seen more than a glimpse of him getting into the car in all that time.

  Thank God, she’d had work to keep her busy. It was as good an excuse as any for why she looked like forty miles of bad road. She’d lost weight she couldn’t afford to lose and had dark shadows under her eyes. Every time she tried to choke down a meal, her throat would close up and she’d end up throwing whatever it was out.

  She’d known it would hurt when Grant left, but dear Lord, she’d underestimated how much. This wasn’t a simple ache of loss, this was a tearing, ripping pain as if some monster had yanked her heart out of her chest and stomped on it. She was sad and angry too, because it just wasn’t necessary.

  After Founders’ Day, she’d researched everything she could f
ind on PTSD and she knew flashbacks and nightmares were normal symptoms. Hearing the fireworks was a trigger. Now that he knew about the trigger, he could prepare for it. There was therapy and medication that could help too. It wasn’t a death sentence, why couldn’t he see that?

  “Ellie? Hang on, I’m coming,” Mrs. Anderson called from the den.

  Crap.

  “I really can’t stay long.” Ellie tried to edge her way to the door. It was rude, but she just wasn’t up for a rehash of what was wrong with her.

  “Oh, yes, you can, young lady. I know you always take the day after the tax deadline off to recover. Whatever it is you had planned can wait while you sit down and talk to me.”

  “I-I, okay.” She couldn’t lie to Mrs. Anderson. Giving in to the inevitable, she sat at the kitchen table and ran her finger along the hem of the placemat.

  “Now what in the Sam Hill is going on between you and Grant?”

  “What has he told you?”

  “Not a blessed thing. Absolutely nothing. On Founders’ Day, you two were attached at the hip and my phone rang off the hook with people telling me about Grant carrying you off the dance floor like Rhett and Scarlet. Except I’m not seeing a fairytale ending, I’m seeing Tara burning. What’s happened to make you look like a ghost and Grant so mad he could chew coal and spit fire?”

  “We came back to my place after the dance. Grant heard the thuds of the fireworks and had a flashback.”

  “Oh, dear. He hasn’t had one of those in a long time. We’d all thought he was done. How long did this one last?”

  “I don’t know. It felt like forever, but was probably only a few minutes. Maybe five? The fireworks were still going on when he left, so it couldn’t have been that long.”

  “That’s good. When he first got injured, he had them all the time and some of them lasted much longer. He talked with a psychologist at the veterans’ hospital and that seemed to help a lot.” Mrs. Anderson got up and took a bag of flour out of the cabinet. “You don’t mind if I make some cookies, do you? I think better with my hands busy.”