Jack: A Second Chance Marine Romance

by Carlisle, Lisa

  A few rain drops landed on his windshield. Gray clouds now loomed overhead, piercing through the blue sky. Brilliant, now it was about to rain.

  He had to pull up to her and offer her a ride. He couldn’t let her walk in it. Ah, but then she’d know he followed her, and that would piss her off even more.

  He could hear her in his head reaming him out, telling him she was not a delicate freakin’ flower and a few damn raindrops wouldn’t stop her.

  What if he drove up and said something corny about the rain to lighten the mood?

  Ha, with the way she hurried ahead, arms swinging at her sides and limping more than he’d ever seen, she didn’t appear to be in a receptive mood for his bad jokes. Now was clearly not the time. She was hurting and needed space.

  Still, he followed her home, resisting the agony of not being able to do something. No point trying to save someone who didn’t want to be rescued.

  After he made sure she’d made it safely to the front door of her apartment and headed inside, he lingered on her street for a few more minutes. Once he drove away, it might be the last time he’d see her. They’d be over. The idea suffocated him with dread.

  A part of him hoped she’d text him, saying she’d overreacted. They’d laugh about it, have a drink, and tumble into her bed. He’d spent time making her feel good to make up for his bad judgment earlier.

  The minutes ticked by. While he waited, he listened to his iPhone. Black Sabbath came on, perfect for his dismal state.

  After the full seven minutes went by, he gritted his teeth and put his truck into drive. She wanted nothing to do with him.

  Still, he couldn’t give up yet. Not after how right the world seemed now with her in it. Did he not make it better for her? He pictured the stark terror on her face inside the gym. Clearly not.

  Maybe tomorrow, she’d wake up and feel different. If not, he’d have to find another way to reach her and make up for being such an unintentional asshole. But how?

  He shook his head and said, “No fucking clue.”

  Chapter 11

  Vivi

  An autumn breeze swept through campus the next morning, swirling the red and brown fallen leaves. Vivi zipped her gray fleece up to her neck. The leaves crunched beneath her black boots as she walked the path to her classroom. The sunlight shone bright overhead as if mocking her bleak mood.

  Why had she agreed to go with Jack to the rock climbing gym yesterday? That had been a bad idea. Caught up in the haze of lust after those nights with Jack, she’d been on a high, foolishly thinking she could take on more than she could handle.

  But she couldn’t. She’d had to fight off a damn panic attack fueled by that realization.

  Jack would see what a mess she was, tormented by her past. Why would anyone want to deal with someone with her issues? The insomnia, the nightmares, the flashbacks.

  Funny how they’d subsided since Jack came back into her life, something she hadn’t thought about until now. He had been a beautiful distraction, spoiling her with his captivating smile, odd sense of humor, and mind-blowing orgasms.

  She groaned. Nothing was funny about this situation.

  Vivi entered the classroom and took a seat at the back of the class. As the professor started a dry lecture, she couldn’t help but compare it to the class she’d taken with Jack. His enthusiasm had rubbed off on her.

  She sighed. Their relationship had crashed almost as soon as it had started.

  They’d rushed in too fast. The attraction had been hard and heavy, and with the chains of their past removed, she’d gone for him like a cat in heat.

  She stifled a groan. Her cat references were as bad as his jokes. She rubbed her temples. Why?

  Maybe if they’d moved slower and taken their time, things might have evolved differently, and she wouldn’t have freaked out like that.

  Or maybe it was the surprise of the job offer—and her defense mechanisms kicking in. Was she pushing him away because it would be easier when he left?

  She doodled in her notebook. Swirls and then stars. And hearts. Broken hearts.

  What was she, a teenager? She had to get over this. They were better off apart.

  He could follow any opportunity he wanted, without having someone like and her baggage weighing him down. She nodded to herself, justifying her actions. He loved rock climbing. That was what had brought them together, and that was something she could no longer do. He needed to find someone he could enjoy the things he loved with. She’d go back to her new normal—school, work, and the shelter.

  Cats were easier to deal with than people. Sure they acted in peculiar ways, but at least they were straightforward about it in their own strange way. If they didn’t want something, they let you know. They didn’t push you to do something. She gave a bitter laugh—because they didn’t give a shit. It didn’t matter why, cats were cats, and she was happy staying in their world.

  Back in her apartment that evening, Vivi curled up on her bed with a comforting cup of hot cocoa spiked with peppermint schnapps. She picked up a Robert B. Parker mystery, as she loved reading them and recognizing the references to Boston in her new city. Whenever she’d moved around in the Marines, she’d read books set in her new locations. It gave her a connection to a foreign place. Although she tried to follow the storyline, she had trouble focusing as her thoughts wandered to Jack.

  As if reading her mind, he called fifteen minutes later. She stared at his name, and her pulse quickened. She forced herself to let it go to voice mail.

  Self-preservation was key. She couldn’t expose herself to any more pain. Why make it more difficult?

  He didn’t leave a message.

  He’d mentioned his cousin, the SEAL, who was now able to run football stadiums. Could she develop the physical abilities to try the things she once enjoyed again, like rock climbing?

  Maybe not with her leg. Every injury was different, affecting people in distinct ways. Her limp was likely a lifelong companion. And more so were the mental blocks.

  Jack called again the following day. She fought the urge to answer it. How she wanted to hear his voice. The ache inside her spread, leaving a hollow feeling.

  Again, he didn’t leave a message.

  On the third day, he called again. She gave up the battle and took the call.

  “Vivi, I’m sorry. I was out of line.”

  She softened on hearing his voice. He’d only been trying to do something good for her, but she wasn’t the right one for him.

  Be strong. Don’t think of now, think of the future. He’ll end up disappointed one day when he understands that you’re not like how you once were.

  “Face it, Jack. It won’t work. Please don’t make it any harder than it is.”

  That part was true. Her apartment now reminded her of the time they’d spent together. It was ridiculous since it was so short, but it been magical. They’d been happy. Now she missed having him around—especially when alone in her bed. Memories of the time they’d shared were torture, reminders of what they’d never have again.

  “Are you sure that’s what you want?” His voice was gentle.

  She sensed a hint of hope in his tone. A part of her wanted to scream of course it’s not. But it was for the best.

  “I’m a mess. You have all your shit together. You always have. We just don’t work.”

  “That’s not true.” His voice sounded surprised by her words.”

  “You should find someone who can keep up with you and do the things you like to do, whether it’s here or in DC.” She struggled to keep her voice steady. Her breath came quick and hard. “Not someone who’s going to hold you back.”

  “Vivi, it’s not like that—”

  “I need to go.”

  When she ended the call, her hands were shaking. She exhaled at having gotten those difficult words out.

  She slumped onto her sofa and stared at the ceiling. As she replayed the conversation in her head, uncertainty followed.

  Had she made
a colossal mistake?

  Jack

  Vivi thought she was a mess? Then what was Jack? He’d been wandering around the city like a damn ghost that didn’t know how to move on to the next plane of existence.

  Despite his efforts to try to move on, Jack couldn’t get her out of his mind. When he sought distraction by watching the History Channel or Discovery Channel, he thought of her. Whether he went on his five-mile runs or bike rides along the Charles River, he glanced at the sun twinkling on the water’s surface and wondered how she was. When he wandered through Boston Common and the surrounding streets, he pictured her face and wondered where she was. What was she doing?

  Did she think of him?

  Before he left his house one morning, he stared at a family photo hanging in the living room while one of his mother’s cats watched from her perch in front of a window. It was one of the last ones they had with his father, one of the final photos of the four of them as a family before it was torn apart by a bullet.

  He’d stared at that photo every day since he’d been home as if he’d find some symbolism to enlighten him about his murky future. He’d been twelve in the photo, in that awkward state of being a preteen, both looking up to his father and starting to rebel against him, resenting when he’d deployed.

  His father had the same high-and-tight Marine haircut Jack had grown accustomed to while he was in the military. He ran his hair over the rough growth now on his chin. His father and sister had dark-blue eyes while Jack shared his mother’s blue-green ones. He glanced into his father’s eyes, seeking insight.

  Once again, none came.

  Jack left the house and rode his bike along the river, consumed with thoughts about his life. He navigated through the city and into Copley Square where he locked his bike outside the impressive arched exterior of the Boston Public Library, one of his favorite spots in the city.

  He entered the lobby and stared up at the mosaic tile in the arched ceilings. As he ascended the grand staircase, he paused to admire the marble lion statues. He continued his exploration, gazing at the wondrous art and architecture throughout the library. After strolling through the stacks, he perused some books at a desk with a green banker’s lamp in the Bates Room.

  An hour later, he entered the courtyard. He found a nook near the fountain and gazed out at the marble arches surrounding him. Vivi’s words pierced him. She thought he’d be better off with someone who could keep up with him. But he cared about her, not a gym partner.

  She thought she was damaged, but he was, too. There was nothing wrong with that. Who didn’t face hardship in their lives, which affected their outlook? Didn’t she know he was hurting inside as well?

  He groaned. How would she? He’d never told her. That’s why she thought he had his shit together—he wore a cloak of smoke and mirrors, hiding what he didn’t want the world to see.

  Maybe he was the coward.

  That was an issue. He wanted her to trust him, yet kept things from her—the deep, dark secrets that exposed him as far from the confident Marine officer he presented to the world.

  On his bike ride home, he continued to reassess his life. Vivi had challenged him to take a risk. Maybe she was right. It was time to go his own way, follow his own passions. The one he was considering was full of uncertainty. Definitely not the safe route with the good job in DC.

  He returned home and stared once more at his father’s image on the wall. A strangled sound escaped Jack, surprising him. Ghosts that had haunted him for so long—some since his father’s death, others more recent, shoved their way into his brain, forcing themselves to be seen. Connections were forged. The guilt, the shame, the regret rising, refusing to be shoved back down into the compartment he reinforced with bad jokes and an odd sense of humor until Jack finally dealt with them.

  He lay on the sofa and stared up at the ceiling, losing track of time as a few tears rolled down his face. He didn’t bother to wipe them away.

  When he felt lighter, he rose. The only way for Jack to step forward was to break free from the yoke of his past. He couldn’t change the past or bring back the dead, but he could try to make a positive impact for the future—just like Vivi believed he could. To do so, he had to forge his own way and follow his heart.

  The first step was to call Stevens and inform him of his decision. It was a killer opportunity, but the price was too high. What he wanted in his future was here. He’d been gone from his family for a good chunk of a decade. Why run off again so soon after he’d returned home?

  Besides, Vivi was now in Boston. Even if she didn’t want to be in a relationship with him, it comforted him to know she was nearby. He’d spent all those final months in the Marines wondering where she’d ended up in the world.

  After some small talk, Jack said, “Thanks for the opportunity, but I can’t take the job. I’m going to stick around here and spend time with my family.”

  “No problem,” Stevens replied. “You were my first choice, but I get it. Family comes first.”

  After they ended the call, Jack felt like he’d lost weight, like he’d removed a fifty pound rucksack after a forced march. He wanted to call Vivi and tell her. Maybe over dinner or a walk? Would she even want to hear from him?

  No. She’d made that clear.

  He exhaled with a low whoosh and glanced around the kitchen. If he couldn’t do something nice for her, he could for the other women in his life.

  When his mother and Carrie returned home twenty minutes later, he announced, “I’m cooking dinner tonight.”

  “Did someone rewire your circuits?” Carrie replied with a smirk.

  “I can make a few meals,” he confirmed with arched brows. “I’m not completely hopeless in the kitchen. There are a few dishes I can handle without causing a major inferno.”

  Dinner turned out to be edible, which was a success. While they chatted over the shrimp scampi and the tossed kale salad he’d made, he mentioned how he was ramping up his search for a job locally.

  “I’ve sent out my resume for some teaching positions around here.” He shrugged. “Hoping it will lead to a couple of bites.”

  He never told them about the DC job offer. He’d put off their questions for the past several weeks with vague replies about exploring his options. Both of them leaned forward with eager expressions.

  “Give me your resume,” his mom said. “I know a few people.”

  “Mom, I know you’re trying to help,” he replied, “but you work in the home health care industry. I’m trying to land a teaching position. Not much crossover.”

  “Besides, everything’s online these days,” Carrie added. She faced him. “Let’s set you up with a LinkedIn profile, if you don’t have one already?”

  He shook his head. “Not yet.”

  “Trust me,” his mother added. “Putting some feelers out there is key. Not everything is done with computers. Sometimes, you need to talk to people face to face. Let them know you’re looking. See what they know.” She took another bite of the scampi. “This is good. When you finally settle down with someone, she’ll be one lucky lady.”

  Without a relationship with Vivi on the horizon, it was something he didn’t want to think about.

  Three more days went by. While he helped his mother with house and yard projects, thoughts of Vivi lingered with no sign that they’d ever let up.

  Maybe he’d given up too easily. He was an officer who’d faced countless challenges in the field and with bureaucracy, so why not fight harder for her? Time to take one last stand, and if he ended up knocked down, riddled with bullets, at least, he’d given it his all.

  First, he needed to figure out where he’d gone wrong, so he could learn from his mistake—and he thought of one person in particular who might have more insight. He drove down to Newport, Rhode Island, to visit his cousin Matty. They arranged to meet for lunch at one of the pubs on the wharf.

  When Jack arrived, Matty was pacing before the restaurant, characteristic for him as he could rarely s
it still. His dark hair and beard were neatly trimmed.

  When he spotted Jack, he grinned and greeted him with a bro hug.

  After they pulled away, Matty gave Jack one more pat on the back. “Hey cuz, how does it feel to be a civilian?”

  Jack grunted. “I’m getting used to it.”

  “Ah,” Matty acknowledged. “Transition’s a bitch, isn’t it?”

  “Sure is.” Jack exhaled with a groan.

  “Let’s talk about it over some food.”

  They entered the restaurant, and the hostess seated them at a table with a view of Newport harbor.

  “How’s married life?” Jack asked.

  “Splendid.” Matty nodded and gave Jack a conspiratorial smile. “You should give it a try.”

  “I don’t even have a job or a place of my own yet. Hardly a catch.” He pictured Matty at Vince’s wedding and chuckled. “I can’t believe you’re the same guy who strolled around at his brother’s wedding declaring that he was a tiger not ready to be tamed.”

  Matty raised his hands palms up. “You’re never going to let me live that down, eh?”

  “Course not. That performance was legendary.” Jack placed his hand on his chest. “And what kind of Marine would I be if I passed on the chance to give a Navy SEAL some shit?”

  “True.” Matty laughed. “What can I say?” He shrugged. “This tiger found his tigress. A perfect match.”

  “Does that mean some cubs are on the way?” Jack teased, remembering how his aunt had been pushing not only for his cousins to settle down, but give her grandkids.

  Matty groaned. “Oh no, are you teaming up with Ma? I already live with numerous roommates, most of them four-legged and furry.”

  Their server welcomed them and took Jack’s order of a chicken sandwich and a beer. While Matty ordered, Jack gazed out to the boats bobbing side-by-side in the harbor.

  After their server walked away, Jack returned his gaze to Matty. “I want to ask you something.”