Hero of My Heart (The McRae Series, Book 5 - Will)

by Teresa Hill

  She thought for a moment she was suffocating.

  Amanda felt like her connection to him was hardwired, maybe from birth. It just hadn't been activated until he'd saved her life in Buhkai, and it wasn't something that could be severed.

  She'd never felt that way about a man before, wasn't even sure she'd believed it was possible. Friends of hers fell in love, some once a month, it seemed. They'd tried to tell her how this felt, the blinding shot of light that filled their minds, their hearts, as they latched onto some man. She'd thought they were nuts. Either that, or something was wrong with her, because she'd never felt that way.

  She'd met guys she adored, guys she thought were attractive and fun and interesting. Some of them, she'd admired from afar. Some of them, she'd dated. A few of them, she'd ended up in bed with.

  But she'd never met a man who'd irrevocably changed her, changed her life, one she'd always want to be a part of her life.

  That part of her looked at Will in shock and awe. It said, He's here! Finally! He's here!

  But he hadn't stayed.

  The reasonable, logical part of her knew everything he'd said was true. They had shared an extraordinary experience, all that fear and adrenaline flowing. In those kinds of experiences, people's emotions were heightened. But those feelings didn't survive back in the real world. Multiple counselors had warned her of that, including Emma.

  Amanda looked forward to feeling normal again—or at least hoped that one day she would, that life would fall back into place. She wouldn't be afraid all the time or on drugs to help her cope. She'd rebuild some kind of life, stop living with her father and hiding in corners, stop being afraid of the dark.

  But now, all she could see was Will.

  She blinked once, then again, as if that could give her a clear vision of the world, clear her thoughts, make them make sense.

  They still didn't.

  Will made sense.

  In her mind, she could see him so clearly, looking strong and solid and so appealing. She...

  She was in love with him.

  She knew it. No questions, no doubts.

  She loved him.

  And he'd just left her.

  Chapter 18

  At her next appointment with Emma, Amanda confessed to everything about that airport goodbye except realizing she loved Will. It was still too new, too overwhelming.

  "It was awful. I'm still so embarrassed, I can hardly stand to think about it."

  Emma laughed. "It couldn't possibly have been that bad."

  "If anything, it was even worse. I'm surprised he hasn't called to warn you I'm falling apart and tell you to lock me up to save me from myself."

  "Well, he hasn't. And I know if he was honestly worried about you, he'd be on the phone to me."

  "Emma, I'm completely irrational where he's concerned."

  "No, you're not," Emma said. "You've been through a trauma, you're scared, you're mad, you're still trying to process everything, and you may be a tad obsessed with Will, but you're not irrational."

  "I think I am. I told myself not to go there. I knew it was a bad idea. I knew I'd likely embarrass myself and him, but I went anyway. Tell me that's not irrational."

  Emma laughed again. "There isn't a fraction of the spaces needed in mental hospitals for all the women who've been irrational at some point in their lives over a man. In this, you're completely normal."

  Amanda made a face. "That's it? That's all you've got?"

  "Sorry. Men are difficult. Even with a good therapist."

  "He couldn't get away from me fast enough."

  "That is not true. He was here for five weeks. I don't think he's been here that long since he joined the Navy. Five weeks for him is huge."

  "Well, I wouldn't be surprised if it was five years before he was back here again."

  Emma laughed.

  "I might not have told you the most embarrassing part."

  "Okay. Tell me the most embarrassing part."

  "I might have grabbed him and kissed him like crazy."

  "Oh. First time?"

  "That I've kissed him like crazy?" Like Amanda could have done that before and not talked about it?

  "That you've kissed anyone since the attack."

  "Oh. Yes, it was."

  "And how was it?"

  "Great, while it lasted. But it would be. It was Will."

  "He's still a man, one you find attractive."

  "But I'm not scared of him. I don't think I could ever be scared of him. Or scared with him. Not that any of it matters. I may never see him again."

  "That's a little dramatic—"

  "But true. I keep thinking, I don't know what he's doing, whether he's safe. Anything could have happened to him, and I wouldn't know."

  "Amanda, he had a detached retina and has been on medical leave. He has to be cleared for duty before he can do anything. He's probably in Virginia Beach and perfectly safe."

  "You're right. He probably hasn't had time to get back on active duty yet. See, completely irrational. And I didn't even know he was stationed at Virginia Beach. I don't know anything about the man."

  Except that she was obsessed with him and irrational and kept embarrassing herself in front of him. And he hadn't been able to get away from her fast enough.

  Her face burned just thinking about it.

  Emma sighed. "As far as I know, he's still stationed in Virginia."

  "That's not far. I was thinking about him being on the other side of the world."

  "No, not far. Please tell me you're not going there."

  "You know I can hardly get out my front door, so I don't think that will be a problem. The farthest I've been in ages is the airport, with him, although technically I left the state because the Cincinnati airport is actually in Northern Kentucky. And I doubt I could've gone that far with anyone but him."

  "Okay, that's probably something we should talk about."

  "I know. I come here. I go to the shelter. I go out to eat with my father when he insists, because I'm afraid if I don't, he'll worry even more. But it's hard, and it's getting harder all the time."

  "We should probably figure out how you're going to handle that."

  "I know. Em, do you think I'll ever feel normal again, sexually?" Asking even that seemed easier than talking about how difficult it was becoming to walk out of her own house.

  "Yes, but it might take time and some work."

  "Everything takes time," she said, so frustrated she wanted to scream or cry, maybe both. "And work? How does one work at that? I want to know that one day I can feel normal about sex. I don't want that man to take that away from me."

  "No, you don't. And by work, I mean you take it in steps. You've felt attracted to Will. That's a step, a beginning. You found a man attractive. So, now, take another step."

  "The man I want to take steps with just left."

  "So take some steps yourself. Try to get comfortable with your body again. Get comfortable being touched. It doesn't have to be sexual. Hug people. Sit close. If you have someone to snuggle with—"

  "No snuggle buddies, sorry to say."

  "Okay, but you don't have to have a man for this. Touch isn't just sexual. It's reassurance and comfort. Humans are hardwired to crave touch. Hold someone's hand. Get a manicure. Get a pedicure. Get a massage. Something like that would be great, a combination of stress reduction combined with touch. Start with a female therapist. Tell her what you've been through, and that you're trying to be comfortable again with being touched. With seeing it as a soothing, normal thing."

  "I do love to have someone do my hair. And when I had it cut, it felt good when the stylist washed it and massaged my scalp."

  "Okay, good. That's a big step."

  "But at some point, there's going to be a man, I hope. How do I do that?"

  "However you want. And I mean that. Think about what you want, and what you don't want. Be clear about your boundaries. It's perfectly fine to have a set of rules, what you're okay with, wh
at's not okay. You want a man who's willing to follow your rules, one who's willing to be patient, one you really trust."

  "Gee, who would that be?"

  Emma laughed.

  "He looked so uncomfortable when all I did was kiss him. I can just imagine what he'd say if I asked him to help me get over my fears about sex."

  "Speaking as your friend and his, not your therapist, I'd pay money to see his face when you ask him that."

  "What am I saying? If I'm not going to see him again, I won't ever get to ask him to have sex with me."

  "Even if Will is gone for now, he can still be useful to you. You know what he looks like. You know the sound of his voice. You know what it feels like to kiss him. And you have two hands of your own. See what you can do with that."

  "Oh," Amanda said. "Okay."

  The man could still be useful to her.

  * * *

  Will was not happy. He was stuck on desk duty at team headquarters for another couple of weeks at least. He wasn't even supposed to do PT, dammit, for fear of messing up his eye.

  How damned fragile was he? And what the hell was he supposed to do with himself if he had to sit all day and not even work out?

  How was he supposed to forget her if he wasn't allowed to do anything? He had counted on work—hard, physical work—to keep his mind occupied and to make him tired enough to sleep at night. So he wouldn't spend all his time thinking about her.

  Stuck sitting here, it was too easy to keep staring at the phone, thinking how easy it would be to pick it up, call Sam or Emma and say as casually as he could manage, "Just checking in. What's going on?"

  As if he'd ever in his life done that.

  They'd see through him in an instant.

  But they'd probably tell him what he wanted to know without him having to ask.

  Like, how was she?

  Did she miss him?

  Did she need him?

  It had seemed, during that awful scene at the airport, when she cried all over him and he'd given himself just a moment to hold her close, that she really needed him.

  He'd felt like an ass walking away, even though he'd just gone back to work. Not that he was happy here, either.

  All he wanted was to get back on a plane and go back to her. To make sure she was okay, maybe make sure she hadn't kissed anyone the way she'd kissed him. Unless she was sure she knew what she was getting herself into. Unless it was a man she knew really well and trusted as much as she said she trusted Will.

  Was there another man like that in her life who Will didn't know about? He couldn't stop thinking about that, either.

  Her kissing another man like that.

  His friend Mace walked into the office, whistling happily. He'd been pulling desk duty, healing from an injury himself, until Will had come back but failed to be cleared for duty yet. So now Mace was free to be slotted into a team in its pre-deployment work-up, preparing to go wherever he was most needed.

  "Can't thank you enough, man. Perfect timing," Mace said.

  "Kiss my ass."

  Mace laughed. "Trouble at home, honey?"

  "Nothing is wrong at home."

  "Yeah, right. Why don't you just tell me about her?"

  "Who?"

  "Whoever's got you all tied up in knots."

  "No one's got me tied up in knots."

  "Well, then you somehow managed to go on leave for five weeks and not get yourself laid. Surely you're not stupid enough to do that."

  Well, shit. He had done that. Or not done that.

  "So, tell me about the ambassador's daughter," Mace said.

  "Nothing to tell. She's back in the States with her father."

  "Yeah, oddest thing. You know what her father is doing these days? He's teaching. At a little college in Ohio. Funniest thing. It's in the same area code as that emergency call you got from home."

  Will glared at Mace.

  "What a coincidence, huh?"

  Will didn't say a word.

  "Pretty girl."

  Yes, she was.

  "Young," Mace said.

  Way too young for Will. He felt about a million years old next to her. Or, sometimes, insanely young, hopeful even. What the hell was that about?

  "Whoa." Mace laughed. "Where'd you go?"

  "Nowhere. I'm not going anywhere."

  He wasn't going back to see her. He wasn't calling her. He wasn't calling anyone to ask about her. He was going to sit at this damned desk, until he didn't have to anymore, and then he was going to get back to his life.

  "Hey, seriously, we all have people we run into in this job who are hard to forget. Given what you went through, what she went through, I can understand you getting attached to her."

  "I'm not attached to her," Will insisted. "She just thinks... I don't know what she thinks. She's scared. She's been through hell, thinks I'm some kind of damned hero. She'll get over it."

  "You sure you want her to?"

  "What else could I want? What the hell does it even matter, what I want? We have nothing in common, except some of the worst hours of her life. She's an ambassador's daughter and went to boarding school in Switzerland. She has a damned trust fund."

  "And you're the man who saved her life."

  Will shook his head. "She's better off without me."

  "How do you figure that?"

  "How do you not? How many days have you been home in the last year? In the last five years? In the last ten?"

  "Okay, yeah. But I don't have anybody at home I like better than my job. Neither did you. Not until now."

  "I don't have her," he insisted.

  "Sounds like you could."

  Yeah, it sounded like he could have her. At least for a while. It wouldn't last. Nothing with him and a woman ever did. And that was not what she needed right now. She needed a good man, a patient one, a man who was going to be around for a while, a man who would stay forever.

  That wasn't him.

  So he was going to stay away, let her get on with her life without him.

  And the man she found? He'd better be a great guy. He'd better be solid, strong, faithful, patient, understanding and crazy about her. He'd better know how damn lucky he was to have her, and he'd better make sure she knew it every single day.

  Otherwise, Will would tear the guy apart, piece-by-piece.

  * * *

  Six weeks after Will left, he got the chance he'd been waiting for, and he didn't even have to ask for it.

  Sam called. He'd found a new site for the shelter, and security was a top concern. Sam wondered if Will could look the place over, get a security plan in place, before Sam began planning or actually renovating the property.

  It made perfect sense, would likely save time and money for the shelter, Will knew. It was also the perfect excuse.

  He could go home.

  See her.

  After what had felt like an eternity.

  He couldn't begin to understand the flood of feelings that rushed through him at the thought. If he didn't know better, he'd say it was something like absolute joy.

  Something like that because Will didn't think he'd ever felt absolute joy in his life.

  His early days of SEAL training had certainly been special. He'd felt a deep sense of satisfaction when he got his orders to report to Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL training; when the instructors said those blessed words "Hell Week is secured!" which meant it was over; and when he finally got a SEAL trident pounded into his chest by his new teammates, a SEAL tradition. He was happy in the teams, relieved and proud about any number of missions he'd accomplished.

  But joy?

  Had he ever felt absolute joy?

  Now that he was feeling something close to it, he didn't quite know how to handle it. He felt odd, a little uneasy. He tried not to ever feel too much of anything. He'd learned early on that if you didn't feel too much, you didn't hurt that much. You never got that scared. You didn't get that angry. It was better all around not to feel too much of any emotion.
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  "So, you'll call when you know what time your plane gets in?" Sam asked.

  "Yeah," Will said, even as he wondered if this was a good idea.

  Sam waited a long time. Will already knew what was coming when Sam finally said, "You're really not going to ask?"

  "You'd have told me if she wasn't okay," Will said carefully.

  "Yeah, I would have."

  "So... she's okay?"

  "Is that a question, Will?"

  Shit!

  This was the moment Sam picked to turn close-mouthed?

  Sam had the nerve to laugh. "It's not that big of a deal, right? You'll see for yourself soon enough."

  * * *

  Amanda felt like a kid on her birthday, or Christmas morning, or the last day of school. It was everything rolled into one glorious, giddy, happy feeling, all wrapped up in him.

  Will was coming home!

  She could have danced, right there in the kitchen at the shelter. She didn't care who saw her or what they thought.

  She'd thought about picking him up from the airport, but that had gone so badly when she'd dropped him off, she resisted the urge. Although she could hardly wait to see him again.

  She got to the shelter early that day, and answered the door every time the doorbell rang. Every time someone arrived who wasn't him, she was afraid she made the visitor feel unwelcome, just by the look on her face, even though she tried to hide her disappointment.

  Venturing out of the house last weekend, she'd gone to three stores to find an outfit, trying desperately to look great, but not like she was trying too hard to impress him, which of course she was.

  She'd settled on a nice pair of jeans and a simple white, scooped-neck top, because he went for that casual, California-girl look—he'd told her so—and because she thought the top showed off her collarbone and her neck, especially with how short she was wearing her hair now. She'd had it trimmed two days ago. She'd even sunned herself in the back yard the last few days, thinking she'd looked grey and pale and blah for too long.

  With nothing but moisturizer on her face and a bit of face powder, her freckles showed through. Will had said he liked her freckles. Mascara and a rosy-pink lip gloss, thin gold-hoop earrings, and she was done.