Isabelle tucked under his arm, loathe to give up even a moment away from the warmth of his skin. “I don’t know what your intentions are but mine may not be exceptionally honorable,” she teased.
“I think I can handle your intentions,” Nick said, brushing a kiss across her curls.
She reached out, felt a scar in his shoulder and rose to get a better look. Blue eyes met green. “Tell me,” she said as night fell, surrounding them with velvety softness.
He exhaled. A long slow release of breath as though letting go of something bigger than his own soul. “I don’t even remember flying through the air,” Nick whispered in the dark room, his arm holding Isabelle tight against him. “One minute I was on patrol, the sixth person back. We had to go in single file because of the IEDs,” he explained.
Isabelle merely nodded, confident her voice would betray her tears. Silently, she let them fall and prayed Nick would continue.
“It was the worst pain I ever experienced. Indescribable, really. I was convinced I had lost at least one of my legs. But I looked down and counted.” He huffed a laugh in the darkened room. “I actually counted my own legs, Belle. One. Two. And when I realized I was injured but intact, all I did was feel this massive overwhelming relief.”
Isabelle’s fingers explored the raised shrapnel scars on Nick’s large hands to let him know she was listening.
“But they were bad,” he continued. “Real bad. I pulled some dressing out and wrapped them up. There were some rocks embedded, but I didn’t want to remove them. We’re taught to field dress a wound, you know? Those tiny little rocks just might be plugging up an artery. If I pulled them out, I could have bled out. So, I had to wrap the dressing around them. I just had to shut down and do it. I had no other options.” Nick’s voice grew hoarse and Isabelle suspected he was close to tears, too. “You have to learn to compartmentalize,” he said. “Ignore reality. Focus on getting through that minute. That hour. That day. In that moment, I wanted to survive and I did what I had to do.”
He played with her curls, stroking them like a talisman. “And all this time, we’re being fired on. Would I survive the explosion to be killed by gunfire? I just . . . I didn’t know. Wilson, our medic, helped me up and I had to get out of there. I’m a big guy, you know? He couldn’t just carry me. I found out later I’d shattered my knee. But there I was running, with help, but running to the helicopter. Firing behind me, hoping to cover our position and keep us safe. Keep my men safe. I was leaving my guys without me and it felt wrong. But I had to get out of there fast so Wilson could get back. I didn’t want to be the reason anyone else went home on a stretcher or a body bag.”
He flinched against the sounds and scents of a battle he couldn’t quite leave behind.
Isabelle’s shoulders shook as she cried silently for him. His men. His pain. This was Nick’s story to tell and he had to get it out.
“Do you want me to stop?” Nick asked, his fingers tracing the gentle curve of her spine.
“I’m listening,” Isabelle made out. “I want this, Nick. I want to know what happened.”
“As I said, I was sixth in the row. Guys one and two didn’t make it. Three and four lost both legs. Five lost a limb. And then there was me. You’ve seen the scars, baby. They tell the story. The gash in my cheek from a piece of flying shrapnel. A broken nose. The slice of metal that almost cut my face in two. I was lucky I didn’t lose my eyes. They were going to amputate my leg but my surgeon had this idea to split the calf muscle on my good leg, cover it with skin grafts, and then keep it all in with a shit-ton of screws.”
“Sloane said you were in a wheelchair when you first came home.”
Nick nodded, brushing gentle kisses along Isabelle’s silky soft nape. “It took about a year of surgeries and therapy before I got any decent mobility. And then another year of working out and trying to build my strength. Been working hard ever since.”
Isabelle turned in his arms, her limbs linking with his. “Why did you shut us all out?”
Nick shrugged but the night and Isabelle continued to work their magic. “My goal wasn’t to shut people out,” he said. “I needed to heal. It was round after round of surgery. Physical therapy three times a week. I was in pain, Belle. I wasn’t trying to hurt people. I was trying to heal myself.” His lips were soft and the tickle of his whiskers made her giggle. It was watery and weak but it was still a giggle. “I would have come back to the world of the living, eventually.”
Isabelle’s fingers were gentle as she played with his chest hair. “I can be patient.”
The rumble started low and Nick released her, sitting up to finally laugh out loud.
“What?” Isabelle said, wrapping the sheet to conceal her nudity. “I can be patient.”
Between Nick’s large, loud, gasping for breath guffaws, he managed a quick, “When?” before resuming the large belly laughs.
Isabelle’s lips quivered before she conceded the point. “Okay. So maybe I don’t have a lot of patience. But I did wait almost three years before seeking you out. That has to count for something,” she said, softly.
Nick’s laughter died down and he pulled her close to him, his hands seeking her warm curves. “It counts for everything,” he whispered before pulling her under him to begin the loving anew.
Epilogue
“You sure you want this spot?” Nick asked, following his wife as she checked out yet another store front. “The paint is chipped and it needs new glass.”
She scoffed at his words. “Can’t you see past that? Look at all the charm? Look at all the built-ins? Where else am I going to put fifteen copies of Love to Friendship and Back Again?”
“Well, maybe if you hadn’t waited so long to come home,” Nick teased.
She brushed a kiss on his neck, just under the line of his beard. “I wasn’t the only one who needed to get their butt in gear.”
“True enough, but I’m not the one who gets gifts of book everywhere I go.” He kissed her. “The universe has been sending you a sign, love.”
She waved off his comment and continued to circle the small room. The possibilities charmed her. Enchanted her. “Can’t you picture it?” she asked, her blue eyes bright with excitement. “I can set up lots of reading nooks and bright lights…”
She continued gushing about her dreams for the shop she was envisioned. Lighting. Colors. Stock. Nick smiled as he picked up the book that had appeared. Marriage and the Small Business Owner
“Do you want me to call the owner and we can make an offer?”
Isabelle walked over to him, hugging him awkwardly around her growing baby bump. “I love the way that sounds, don’t you?”
“Owners and offers,” Nick teased. “Are you sure you don’t want to work for Fox Holding?”
“No, silly,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “We. We’re a family. We’re in this together. Forever.”
Nick nodded and felt hot tears appear at the corners of his eyes. He’d lost the family he’d been born into but through life, love and a healthy dose of luck had created a new family. One he wouldn’t lose because of mistakes or miscommunication or misunderstandings.
“I am thankful for so many things,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “My parents. My uncle. Sloane and Diana. Your brothers.” He enfolded her in his arms, surrounded her with his love. “But it was you, Belle. I was loved by you,” he said. “And that changed my world.”
Summer Donnelly author page and website and books
Amazon author page: http://amzn.to/2jOz7AC
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Other books by Summer Donnelly
Harper’s Mill books
Hummingbird Dreams, Harper’s Mill 1 by Summer Donnelly
http://amzn.to/2gOfl4c
Fae and Frost, a Christmas Romance by Summer Donnelly
Harper’s Mill 2
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00GW60QUA
Dandelion Dreams, Harper’s Mill 3 by Summer Donnelly
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Coming soon!
Honeysuckle and Roses, Harper's Mill 4 by Summer Donnelly
Stand-alone titles: Midnight Honey by Summer Donnelly
http://amzn.to/2gAEEJv
Loved by Beauty (Harper's Mill Book 4) Page 4
