Redeeming Her SEAL (ASSIGNMENT Caribbean Nights #9) - Kat Cantrell Page 0,74
tell me about your girl troubles so we can fix it.”
With a side-eye of his own, he sank into the mission-style chair. “What makes you think I have girl trouble?”
“Two sons who plowed through the female half of Albuquerque before they moved up to the big leagues, remember?” She waggled her brows. “Plus I didn’t find them under a cabbage plant one day. I’ve had sex a time or two in my life, and I’m a girl. So don’t try to snow me. Spill.”
“Jeez, Mom.” Blake slapped flat hands over his ears and screwed his eyes shut. “Are you trying to give me nightmares? I’ll make myself scarce if that’s how you’re gonna be.”
He took a handful of cookies and dashed from the kitchen. Mama C watched him go and then reached out to smooth a hand over Charlie’s forearm. “Thank you for the pictures you send me from the Caribbean. They’re full of amazing things. Beautiful beaches, gorgeous water. My kid with a huge grin and a beer in each hand, which I’m pretty sure he would rather you had not sent, by the way, as I blistered his ear with a talking-to about the evils of overindulgence.”
Ouch. Yeah, that one had been an accident. Jace usually let his mother’s lectures roll off, but it was good to keep that in mind for the next time he needed leverage against his roommate; he’d snap a picture of Jace in some compromising position and then threaten to send it to his mom. Presto. No more obnoxious roommate.
Mama C tapped his arm. “You never send me pictures of girls though. Which is pretty telling for a strapping guy with such great cheekbones and beautiful eyes. Are you still carrying a torch for that redhead?”
That was the problem with moms, even when they weren’t blood. They recalled every last word you said for the rest of your life.
“I can’t believe you remember me mentioning Audra,” he mumbled. “That was over a year ago.”
But as if saying her name opened the floodgates, the whole story spilled out before he could catch it. Mama C listened without interrupting, and at the end, it was every bit the catharsis Charlie had hoped. For the first time in so very long, he wasn’t giving orders or taking command of a situation, and it was a relief to not have that weight for once.
She nodded as he wound it up. “You have to fix things with Audra. You screwed this up.”
The bands around his chest loosened, and that was the only reason he was able to nod. “I know. That’s why I’m here. But I don’t know what to do.”
“You do know,” she corrected gently. “You have to let her love you. And you have to be where she is instead of here. You seem to have missed that point in all of this.”
Pain lanced through his gut as he shook his head. “You weren’t listening. I’m not in a place where I can be with her. I have way too much left over crap in my head from being in the Navy.”
“You’re not listening. To yourself or to me, sweetie.” Gently, she covered his large hand with her smaller one. “You’re using that as an excuse because you think you don’t deserve something wonderful. That’s simply not true. Bad stuff happened because you were on the front lines. But not just to you. To Evan and a lot of other people, all who made their choices to be in a war zone. They knew the risks. Don’t take that guilt on.”
“But it’s my fault.” That could never be erased, no matter what. “What happened in Iraq. That I left Audra to deal with her brother’s death. That I can’t stop looking for the exit before I hurt her again. Worse, I keep looking for reasons to blame her for the fallout of the choices I made.”
That was the hardest thing of all to take. That he couldn’t even talk to her about their problems because he constantly had to second-guess whether he had a genuine grievance to air or he was letting his own guilt color the situation to the point where he couldn’t be rational. And he wanted to do the right thing.
He hadn’t left because he didn’t want to be with her. He’d left because he did.
Mama C gave him the longest look and then smoothed back his hair. “My sweet boy. You’ve been carrying so many burdens for so long. You’ve got to