What Part of Marine Don't You Understand - By Heather Long Page 0,21

lost look in his eyes sucker punched her in the gut. Brent had looked the same way when he’d come home—only his outbursts had been far more violent—and usually ended with him throwing she or their mother out. They took his temper, they took his apologies, and they didn’t let him cut them off, no matter how hard he tried.

Matt didn’t know enough about her history to understand she wouldn’t let him push her out the door nor would she let him cut himself off unless that’s what he wanted. She set up their food—sweet and sour chicken for him, moo goo gai pan for her—and carried the plates out to the coffee table.

He rose and took them from her. The gentleman in him wouldn’t stay seated when she walked in the room.

Another reason she adored him.

She grabbed water bottles and while she wouldn’t mind a glass of wine, Matt was on edge. He opened both and they ate quietly. She didn’t push, preferring to let him work it out in his own head. Quelling the urge to tell him it didn’t matter turned out to be harder than she would have liked. Of course it mattered. But Naomi didn’t live in a glass bubble, war was hell, and coming home harder still. She devoted many volunteer hours at veteran’s centers, actively raised money and awareness, and recording her album would help with both.

“I served in Iraq.” The sentence sent a shiver of apprehension through her. “Just a grunt, doing my job and securing the areas we were ordered to secure.” Sweat beaded along his brow. Jethro shifted below them and laid his head across Matt’s foot, the weight offering some comfort because he blew out a long breath.

“I always wanted to be a Marine. I grew up in a small town, my mother works two jobs and she’s—she’s raised all five of us the best she can. But I am the oldest.”

Naomi’s heart squeezed. Brent was also the oldest—which meant he put tremendous pressure on himself to excel and be there for his siblings. He believed in demonstrating how it should be done.

“So enlisting was a no brainer.” Matt pushed the rice around on his plate. “I loved it—still do. There’s—there’s no real description for being a part of a unit that gets you, appreciates your strengths, challenges you to do better and guards your back every step of the way.”

Spearing a mushroom on a fork, she gave him her full attention and swallowed any probing questions. He needed to tell his story his way.

Clearing his throat, he continued, “Anyway, I was good at my job and I liked it. One night—one night we had insurgents break through the gates. They set off some blasts and we had to kill the driver in another of their vehicles, but it still detonated. The—um—the explosion damaged my hearing.” He tapped his right ear with two fingers. “I’m not deaf, but impaired on this side. It also affects my balance, but I’m working on that.”

Putting the plate on the table, he reached down to pet Jethro. She’d noticed he did that whenever his discomfort level rose. The dog basked under the affection, returning solace to the wounded Marine. She didn’t mistake the idea that the hearing loss was his only injury. Soul-bleeding wounds weren’t always obvious.

“So I took the medical discharge they offered, but it’s not just about the physical issues. I still have my arms and legs, I can still run and work and function—except—” He grimaced. “Except sometimes I can’t.” Swallowing hard, he clenched his jaw. “I’m here at Mike’s Place for treatment.” The words were barely a whisper and she had to strain to hear them.

“Doc diagnosed it as PTSD. I can’t remember what happened without reliving it. I can’t go places where there are a lot of noises—bangs or even heavy crowds, because they take me back there. I can’t hold a job because most of my training is in areas that all set off my triggers. In a nutshell, I’m a pretty poor prospect for anyone.” He sighed, shoulders slumping briefly as though exhausted from giving voice to the darker thoughts inside of him.

Judging that point to be the right time to speak, she set her plate next to his and turned sideways, her knee brushing his thigh. “Okay.”

Puzzlement filled his eyes. “What?”

“Okay.”

“I just told you why I’m not a good prospect for you.”

“I know. You think I need big dates in noisy crowds and someone who