What Part of Marine Don't You Understand - By Heather Long Page 0,25
seen it in his eyes and heard it in his voice. Did he suffer from night terrors? Did he lash out in his sleep? Not having the answers to those questions, but suspecting both to be true, didn’t do much to assuage the emotional wound of sex followed by a swift exit.
Wow…it took me less than thirty minutes to go from afterglow to emotional Fruit Loop. He’s still the same guy. He’s got issues and he’s working on them. I can handle this.
God, what if she couldn’t? The sobering thought cut through her. What if she couldn’t handle a relationship on his recovery’s terms? One fear after another tumbled in her head, like a cat chasing its tail. Inconceivable and painful, because she wasn’t even sure she wanted to catch the tail.
Rolling to her side, she stared at the clock. It ticked a little after midnight. Hours and hours until they would see each other in the park.
I like him…he’s wonderful, but he hasn’t lied to me once about what’s going on with him. Telling me about his PTSD took courage.
Her phone rang and she eyed it.
The landline.
She answered on the third ring. “Hello?”
“So….” Matt’s voice washed over her and the knot in her gut loosened. “I walked Jethro home and realized I don’t even have your phone number.”
“Hey.” She sank into the pillows, warmth rushing out to heat the chilled places formed in the few short minutes since they’d said goodbye. Never a high maintenance, needy girl—she certainly didn’t want to become one.
“Are you okay?” Worry colored his words.
“Much better. I was having a silly woman moment.” Biting her lip, she swallowed a rueful laugh.
“Hmm, be nice to my girl. I like her.”
He said my and shivers raced over her skin. “She likes you, too.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t stay—I….”
“You don’t have to explain.” He really didn’t. “I get it and I-I respect that you recognize your own limitations.” She grimaced at the word. “That didn’t come out right.”
Soft laughter met her embarrassment. “No, it came out exactly right. It’s what I’ve been working on…recognizing what I can do and when I push myself too hard. Sometimes…sometimes I push and I want more than I am capable of—it would be really, really easy to push with you, Naomi. I want to be there, but I can’t, and I won’t, risk you.”
His raw vulnerability and utter openness did her in. “I won’t risk you either, Matt. It’s okay.” She snuggled down in bed, hugging the phone to her ear and his pillow to her chest. “But can you do me a favor?”
“What?” He sounded as relieved as she felt.
“Can I have one of your shirts?”
“Sure…can I ask why?”
“’Cause I like the way you smell.” Heat rushed to her cheeks and she barely managed to whisper the words.
His soft groan sent tingles of excitement racing through her. “You can have any shirt of mine you want.”
“Hmm, thank you.” If she couldn’t have him in her bed all night, she could wear his shirt and have his scent. The disquiet in her soul settled.
“You’re welcome. Now, go to sleep.”
As if conjured by his words, the yawn cracked her jaw. “Okay….”
“Don’t hang up.” The firm order wrapped around her like an embrace. “I’ll stay on the line until you’re asleep.”
“Okay,” she repeated, and he chuckled.
“Do you know what I hear when you say okay?”
She yawned again and her eyelids drifted closed, almost too heavy to stay open. “That I love you?” The sleepy question escaped before she could stop it. Her heart squeezed. Too soon?
“Yeah.” He whispered. “Okay?”
Biting her lip, she smiled so hard her face hurt. “More than okay.”
“Good night, Naomi.”
“Good night, Matt.”
***
Dawn found him waiting early for his appointment with James. He wanted to get in and get out. After sleeping well, he’d woken, wishing Naomi had been within arm’s reach. Leaving her the night before turned out to be harder than he expected—but he wouldn’t subject her to his nightmares or risk injuring her if he lashed out.
No. Unacceptable.
“Hey, Matt.” James opened the door. “You’re early.”
“I can wait.” He didn’t look at the clock. An hour early was more than just being prompt.
“You can come on in, you’re my first appointment of the day.”
Jethro trotted ahead of him, seeming even more relaxed than Matt. Despite the niggling doubts and worry nibbling on his insides, he felt good.
Real good.
Doc offered him some coffee, and Matt carried a mug over to the sofa and sat. “So, ask me how I’m feeling.” He couldn’t