by Jillian Neal
Someone sat her up and shook her. “Natalie, baby, it’s okay. Wake up for me.”
She clung to something. His arms. A lifeline.
“Natalie!”
His voice shattered the icy hands that held her captive. Her eyes flew open. Air rushed into her lungs in a frantic gasp. Aaron’s gentle hands cupped her face. “Look at me, Nat. Right here. You’re right here with me. You’re safe. I’ve got you. It’s over, sweetheart. Never again. Okay, I will never let someone hurt you again.”
She collapsed into him and washed his chest with another round of tears her uncle didn’t deserve and she hated herself for crying in the first place.
“Deep breaths for me, okay. I’ve got you,” he kept speaking the words that steadied her breaths and her heartbeat. “I’m right here. I will always keep you safe.”
She tucked herself closer to him. He wrapped his arms and legs around her, a shield against her past. His right hand cradled her head, keeping her from having to see anything at all.
His left hand pulled the sheets up over them. He covered her completely. “I’ve got you, baby.” His kisses wiped away every escaping tear. His hands kept her in the here and now. She just needed him to stay forever. If he was there, nothing could get to her. She was safe. “I’m right here.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
The sun was far too high in the sky the next time Natalie woke up. She groaned. The cattle had to be fed. Sundance was probably anxious to get going. Her family surely had already eaten breakfast without her.
But Aaron’s arms were still around her and the perfection of it all was simply too good to end just yet. Her family would get over it. Her horse would understand. And the cows, well, God knew her brothers owed her years’ worth of chores for all the times she’d done theirs for them.
Sighing, she buried her face back in Aaron’s chest determined to go back to sleep. His breathy chuckle kept her from her mission. “I’m perfectly happy to hold you all day long, baby. I do need to go feed Buster and Lulu eventually but they can wait.”
“Can I go with you?” She sounded like a dying frog. How hard had she been sleeping? The nightmare. It rushed back into her consciousness. Bile lodged in her throat.
She chanced a peek at Aaron. Understanding settled in his eyes. “Still right here,” he reassured. “And of course you can go with me.”
“No, it’s okay. I promised I wouldn’t be clingy and I have to go feed Sundance.”
“Hey, you’re not being clingy. I love when you want to be with me. Kind of goes with the loving you thing.”
A few of the better memories of the night before swept the nightmare away. She focused on those. “You still love me?”
“Did you think I was going to change my mind, sweetheart?” Concern erased the understanding from his gaze.
“Just making sure.”
“You still think you love me?” He didn’t seem to even try to hide his incredulity.
“Did you think I was gonna change my mind, G.I. Joe?”
He laughed. “More like I think you should.”
“Well, I’m not.”
“Stubborn cowgirl.”
“And proud of it.”
“Thanks for not asking me about last night. Thanks for knowing I don’t want to talk about it.” There, that’s what she’d been trying to say for the last five minutes.
“Not a stranger to nightmares, sweetheart. I know how awful they are. Just know if you ever do want to talk I want to listen.”
Forcing her body to rise, she pulled her knees to her chest. Okay, that was a little tender. She tried unsuccessfully to hide her wince.
“You’re sore aren’t you?”
“Just a little.”
“Not sure there’s any way around that but I hate I made you hurt.”
“I’ll be fine. It’ll go away.”
“How about that bath?”
“I have to go do chores.” Rubbing the fog from her eyes, she finally noticed the red rims of his. “You didn’t sleep. Oh my gosh, you stayed up with me and never went back to sleep.”
“I told you I will always take care of you, Nat. I’m fine. You can take a nap with me at my place when we go feed the dogs.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shook his head, sat up, and planted a kiss on her forehead. “You have absolutely nothing to apologize for.”
“Are you working the late shift tonight?”
“Yeah, and it’s Saturday so we’ll be slammed. I still want you there though.”
Natalie refused to admit to him how much she disliked the bar. Drunk men were frightening. She hated the terror that always resided just under her skin while she was there. Why couldn’t they just stay on the ranch? Not that nothing bad had ever happened there. She reasoned her way through their evening plans. If Aaron was there, she’d go. “Okay.”
“Bar’s closed tomorrow. You want to go up to the lake or something? Or you could finally show me your favorite place in the Glen.”
The entire day and night with him the next day definitely made up for having to hang out at Saddleback’s. “Yeah, that would be fun.”
Tempted to rip the top sheet from her bed to wrap herself in it, she debated the best way to get to the bathroom without him seeing how much her ass jiggled when she walked.
Her bladder told her to get over herself. She slipped out of the bed and attempted to walk backward toward the toilet.
“What are you doing, Nat?” He laughed at her outright as he climbed out of bed in all of his Greek statue perfection.
“Going to the bathroom.”
“Mm-hmm, I figured that but why the hell are you going backwards?”
“No real reason.”
He studied her with that look that said he was combing through her mind and was highly likely to land on the very thing she was trying to hide. His long legs ate up the distance between them. “Few things I might’ve failed to mention last night. One, I am an unapologetic ass man. Two, your ass is so fucking beautiful I can barely keep my hands off of it. Three, attempting to hide it or any other part of your drop-dead gorgeous body from me will result in my hands paddling your fine ass until I turn it as pink as your cheeks get when you get embarrassed. That all good or shall I review it again?”
She narrowed her eyes in an effort to look annoyed. Truthfully, the fact that she’d had one of those stupid nightmares with him here and he was still willing to go on with everything he’d promised, everything she so wanted to explore, delighted her.
“Yeah, you can get pissy about it if it makes you feel better, but I know you like what I just said. Turn around and shake it for me, honey.”
She edged closer to the bathroom, keeping up her glare for appearances sake alone. At that last moment, she spun and shook her ass back and forth. His growl echoed around the room. She loved it. She loved flirting with him. She loved the intensity of his hungry gaze. She loved him.
He reached for her. She slipped into the bathroom, slammed the door in his face, turned the lock, and laughed triumphantly.
Rushing to the toilet she sat down. Okay, that definitely burned. She didn’t have time for a bath but maybe a quick shower would help.
Aaron glared at the door between them but knew she needed some time. Before he could settle back in the bed, the door opened. He stepped toward her, but she shoved the ball of his clothes out with just her hand. “My daddy’s not gonna like it if we leave here while you’re buck nekkid.”
He grabbed the clothes and far more importantly the letter concealed in the pile. Holy fuck, that was close. Far too close. He’d forgotten the letter. He had to focus. Letting her nightmare drive him, he concocted a plan.
The shower water turned on. He counted to sixty and listened. He could just make out the shuffle of her feet on the tile. The tub creaked when she stepped in and he flew into action.
Pulling on his clothes like a man on his way to put out a fire, he stalked quickly to her kitchen memorizing the pops in the parquet ha
llway so he’d know the sounds of her approach. Moving to the back corner of her kitchen where there was a built-in desk, he leaned up against the wall granting himself an ideal vantage point of the rest of her home.
Vile repulsion shot vomit to his throat as he opened the damned thing. He didn’t want his hands to have contact with the man who made her have dreams like that. He considered locating a pair of oven mitts to read the damn thing with but he was burning precious time.
The letter was worn. He checked the postmark date. Two months ago. Fuck, how many times had Hope read this letter? Summoning control of his own fury, he made certain the shower water was still on and unfolded the foul thing.
His eyes scanned the jagged handwriting. His biceps flexed of their own accord. I’m gonna end the motherfucker. He promised himself he wouldn’t let her have any reason to have nightmares like that again.
His lip curled when he read Brock’s father’s plea that he get to see his grandkids. Brock and Hope had two sons. He wondered what Hope had made of him wanting to visit. Most mothers were protective as hell over their kids. Not his mother so much but she wasn’t the industry standard by a long shot.
He read on.
His eyes fell to the line, I plan to make a trip to Pleasant Glen. I deserve to see my son and I deserve the right to make an apology.
“Like hell you do, you pathetic piece of garbage,” Aaron spat. “You’re not coming anywhere near her.”
Gall roiled in his gut. He had to know if Hope had responded to this. He had to know if Brock knew his father was planning a trip. All of his training said Brock had no knowledge of the letter. Hope had kept it at the library and out of their home. Once people brought things into their intimate spaces there was some degree of acceptance and communal sharing. She hadn’t wanted the letter near Brock. Had she pretended it away without a response? Or had she accepted his request and chosen to let it be a surprise to her husband?
He had to figure all of this out before Natalie was forced to see the rat bastard again. He also needed to get the letter back in the library before Hope discovered it was missing. Nothing like being backed into an impossible situation. How did you interrogate someone about something you weren’t supposed to know existed? Maybe an impossible task for most men, but Aaron had thrived on this very thing. He had the skills. He’d handle it.
He restored the letter to its envelope. The need for actionable intel locked in his musculature. The shower was still on. He settled at her laptop. One quick search. He’d figure out her uncle’s address, erase the history, and have something to go on.
Running his finger over the touchpad his leg shook while he waited on the laptop to come back to life. As soon as the screen lit, shame lodged in his gut. Natalie had eleven tabs open in her internet browser. Every single one of them was either about PTSD or the precious little information the army released about Green Berets. His flashback the night before, the shame he’d felt, the life he’d lived, the diagnosis he hated, it all stared back at him, a one-dimensional definition of the weakness he would never accept.
“You could’ve asked,” he breathed. She tried. His brain came to Natalie’s defense. So he wasn’t the only one doing some research. They were both fucked up. For what had to be the thousandth time since he’d been diagnosed he tried to be okay with it. Only problem was, her issues she’d had no control over. She was brave and had worked through most of it. Everything that had happened was his fault. There was no working through it. He couldn’t even make it through a fireworks show without flipping the fuck out. She deserved better. She deserved a whole man.
The absence of the shower water finally registered. He rushed the letter out to his truck. Throwing it in the glovebox, he slipped back in the house and returned to his corner willing the computer to go back to sleep.
When it didn’t, he flew to the bedroom needing to keep her there for a few minutes more.
She was fully clothed, much to his chagrin. He willed his pulse back to a normal tenor.
“Where’d you go?” she demanded.
“Uh, was gonna try to make you coffee. Couldn’t figure out your maker.” He loathed the lies. He just had no other available options.
Her sweet grin only rubbed vinegar in his wounds. “Yeah, Mama and Daddy gave it to me for Christmas. I don’t have any idea how to use the grinder thing or the hot tea deal. I just know how to make regular coffee. It has too many buttons.”
“Guess I’m better at beer taps.”
“Hey, Aaron.” She cleared her throat.
“Yeah, baby?”
“Can I say something weird?”
The way she reached through all of the shit his life held astonished him. “I always like your kind of weird.”
“This wouldn’t make any sense to anyone that hadn’t been through the things we’ve been through.”
Interesting. “What have we been through, Nat?”
“You know all the things we don’t talk about.” She gestured to his gut. The scars. There was so much more to it than the scars. He only offered her a nod.
“You trying to say that I get you?” He drew her closer telling himself he was offering her a place to hide. In reality he used her to cover the scars. She wrapped her arms around his waist and another remnant of his shattered heart seemed to find its way back to life.
“Yeah, I’m saying that. And I wanted to say thank you for teasing me about my butt and about spanking me, even after that nightmare. Most people would’ve freaked out and…”
“And?”
“And not remembered that I can be strong and brave, too. That I’m not always weak. And how nightmares and flashbacks aren’t your real life. They’re from a time that doesn’t have to exist anymore. You can move on from them.”
Can you? He wasn’t certain he could. “Baby, you are never weak. And this is the part where I thank you for not freaking out about the fireworks thing. I hate myself for doing that. I probably scared the fuck out of you.”
She stepped back. Her hands landed on his face. She gave him no option but to stare into her eyes. “Never ever hate yourself for that. Never. Do you hear me? If you hate yourself for that, I’ll hate myself for my nightmares and I’ll think I’m weak again. I know you don’t want me to believe those lies. And I will not let you tell yourself you’re weak either. You, well, you’re the strongest person I know and you did not scare me. You never scare me! Stop saying that. A lot of people have assumed a lot of things about me but I will never allow anyone to underestimate me.”
Well, damn.
“You promise me right now you won’t feel any kind of shame or hate or anything like that for a flashback. I won’t let you. I know what they’re like. I know what it’s like not to be able to breathe for hours after they’re over. I know what it’s like when you throw up everything for days afterwards. I know what it’s like to feel so weak and have no other options except to be strong. I will never let you hate yourself for anything. You got that?”
“Yeah.” He managed a slight nod. “Okay.”
“Good.”
“I never underestimated you, Nat. Never. Okay?”
“Yeah, I know. You underestimate yourself and think that doesn’t affect me. You want to blame yourself for everything without thinking about how that makes me feel. I told you I love you. I meant that. At least I’m aware that the things I don’t want to tell you affect both of us.”
Willing away the irritation ticking in his blood, he shook his head. “Doesn’t seem to matter. You still won’t tell me.”
She edged closer, determination set in those fierce eyes of hers. “Tell me how you got all of those scars. Tell me why you aren’t in the army anymore.”
“No.” God, he couldn’t. He wished he could tell her everything. But the inevitable shame she would feel and the pity…he couldn’t take the pity. “I wish I could, but I can’t. I can’t go back there. Not today.”
“Yeah, see, I get that. I don’t want to go back either. So, can we please just g
o forward?”
“Baby, I’ll go anywhere in this world or any other with you.” Please, just don’t walk away. He reached for her hands. She accepted.
“Good. I’m going to the kitchen to make coffee and eggs and then I’m going to the barn. After that I’m going to go get Lulu and Buster and bring them over here where they can run and play to their hearts’ content. I feel bad they haven’t seen you much since you started staying here and I don’t like Old Man Rasmussen. I don’t like Lulu and Buster being there without you.”
She still wanted to spend the day together. Relief swept over him, making him dizzy for a moment. He sank down on the bed. “You really think we can do this, Nat? You really want to have this with me, still?”
To his shock, she crawled into his lap and curled herself up into a ball. “More than I have ever wanted anything else.” He wrapped her up in his arms certain his next breath depended on having her beside him.
“I’ll try to get my shit together.”
“I don’t need you to get anything together. I just need you to stop blaming yourself for everything. Come on.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Caught somewhere between hating herself for letting her temper get the better of her yet again and being proud of herself because she fully believed that Aaron needed a little tough love, Natalie scooted the spatula around the skillet keeping the eggs moving.
“I can do that, baby. I should at least be making you breakfast.” He kept pacing behind her. She knew he needed something to do. His restlessness was getting to her and he seemed to grow more frantic with each passing moment.
“Why don’t you make us toast?” She pointed to the toaster.
“I’m pouring you coffee first.”
“Because I’m being bitchy?” She sighed. So she had come off too harshly. She just couldn’t stand it when he insisted that he was weak or that he scared her.
“No.” He swept her hair away and a kiss landed on the back of her neck. A shiver she couldn’t stop coursed through her. “I’m making you coffee because you love coffee. You are never bitchy.” Before she could argue, his hand landed on her ass with a pop.
