CHAPTER 15

The blast rocked his truck, ringing his bell. It took a minute for his vision to clear. It was quiet. Why couldn’t he hear anything? He looked at his driver. Dead silence, despite his lips moving.

Stay calm. Assess the situation.

They were in the middle of open terrain and the blast had taken out the gun truck. The only way out of the situation was forward or backward, and forward was blocked by a blown-up vehicle. We’re screwed.

Warren turned their truck around, but before Cole could blink, another bomb ripped through its right side. A blinding pain tore through his leg, but he ignored it.

“Lay down suppressive fire! We need to secure the site!” Cole’s ears started to clear. Quickly, he called in the situation report.

Delta Three Seven was out of commission and he didn’t know what kind of shape his boys were in. They needed to secure the kill zone and get everyone the hell out of there.

But as Cole opened the door to step out, another explosion ripped through the countryside. And everything went dark.

Cole sat bolt upright in bed and grabbed his gun, clutching it to his chest. He was bathed in sweat, his hair curled and damp on his neck, his heart beating a war cry in his chest. Residual flashes of fighting and explosions slowly faded from his brain, and his leg hurt like a mother. Breathe. Just another dream. Easy, now.

It took him a moment before he realized where he was. Aware of movement next to him, he turned. Julie lay there, shock etched on her face.

“You yelled. Are you all right?” she asked quietly, staring at his gun.

Wow, that nightmare had come out of nowhere. Slowly, he slid his weapon back onto the nightstand and leaned against the headboard, willing his heartbeat back to normal. “Yeah,” he said, before realizing that the look on his face said it all. “No.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” She seemed calmer now without the gun right in front of her.

Cole stared into the darkness of the room, listening to his breathing and rubbing his thigh. A diagnosis in his medical file was one thing, but witnessing the aftermath of an episode firsthand was something different. Now, she knew how damaged he was, and she could either take him or leave him. He prayed she’d take him.

After a few moments of silence, he spoke. “When the first IED exploded, I knew we’d just ridden into an ambush. Men I had pledged my life to protect—men I was responsible for—died in front of my eyes. Rick Davey, my best friend and a damned good soldier, took a bullet to his face.” His voice was hoarse. “I promised to bring him home safe to his wife and I failed.”

“I’m sorry, Cole.”

“I’m sorry, too.” Sorry I didn’t serve my men better. He should have known that his unit would be a target given their specific mission, and he still had the clawing suspicion that somehow, the deaths could have been prevented. The army had found nothing at fault with Cole’s behavior. In fact, he’d even received a Bronze Star with V Device. The “V” stood for valor.

He didn’t deserve it.

“What are you sorry for?” she said. “You’re the one who had the nightmare.”

His sweat cooled on his body in the chill of the room and he shivered. “Sorry for scaring you.”

Julie sat up and put her arm around his neck. With her other hand, she swept his damp hair back from his face and smoothed it down. “You didn’t. I was just surprised.” She wasn’t looking at him with revulsion or fear, just concern. He didn’t see pity, thank God. He couldn’t have stood that. Not tonight.

“I’ll be all right. I just need to lie here with you.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

They settled down into the bed and Cole pulled the covers over them both. Julie curled up next to him, one hand on his chest, her head resting on his shoulder. Cole kept his hand on her back, focusing on the simple movement of her diaphragm rising and falling with her breathing.

It was a long time before either of them got back to sleep.

Julie woke up to the sound of early-morning birds chirping outside her window and the waves hitting the breakers near the bluff. Birch branches scraped the side of her house, blown by the brisk spring wind coming from the south. She yawned and blinked her eyes. Some things never changed.

And some things did.

Cole’s hard chest was pressed against her back, his arm thrown casually around her waist. Encircled in his arms, she felt safe. Secure. He’d trusted her last night, and he’d gotten her to trust him. For the first time, Julie realized they were forging new ground, moving together in a different direction. Experiencing something she’d never had before. Something she suspected he’d never had, either.

Burrowing deeper under the covers, she put a hand over his arm. Her small movements must have woken him, since he tensed and then yawned. He slid his hand under her rib cage and pulled her even closer to his body.

“Good morning,” he said, his voice low. “You’re still here.”

“I’m still here. And so are you.”

He stiffened a little bit. “You want to talk about what happened last night.” It wasn’t a question.

She shook her head. “No.” It seemed too raw to rehash. “But I will ask you two questions.”

“Two questions.”

“And you have to promise to answer them honestly.”

“Okay.” He sounded a bit wary, but she knew he’d tell the truth.

“One, have you ever, um, shot anyone or anything when you’ve whipped out your gun in the middle of the night?”

He paused for a few seconds before answering. “No.”

Thank God. “And two, are you seeing anyone?”

He didn’t even hesitate. “You.”

“Cole—” she said, her voice a warning. “You know what I meant.”

“I know what you meant,” he said flatly. “A shrink. I have before, but not right now.”

She turned her head so she could see his eyes. They were still the same color—that piercing blue—but there was a darkness to his gaze. “Do me a favor. Go back.”

He gave a snort and looked away. “You sound like Val.”

“Your brother really cares about you.” Like I do.

“Yeah. Well, I’ve been doing okay. And I’ve been busy.”

“Cole, you know better than I do that this kind of thing doesn’t go away by itself. Combat veterans typically have a whole host of issues to deal with when they come back from war. Your PTSD, plus a healthy dose of survivor’s guilt—both of which I’m sure you’ve been told are perfectly normal, given what you’ve been through—means you have to maintain the work that you’ve been doing to keep yourself together.”

He cleared his throat. “Look, you asked your two questions. I answered them. Now it’s time for other things.”

There were hundreds of questions left unasked and unanswered, but his tone left no doubt that he wanted to move on. For now, that was all right. They’d surely get a chance to talk about it later. “What other things?” she asked.

“This,” he replied, before covering her mouth with his own.

They made love again, slowly and carefully. Cole was unhurried, stroking her body gently, clearly mindful of their passion the night before. They didn’t speak. They didn’t have to. Heat lapped at her body as he brought her to a slow simmer, coaxing her to the edge. And then, together, they did a free-fall into the abyss. Even their moment of climax was almost reverent as she sighed into his mouth. Afterward, they lay in the rumpled bed, simply breathing. For now, it was enough just to be near him.

After a few moments, Cole lifted himself up on his elbow. He stroked her hair, smoothing it. Silently, she observed him, her gaze sweeping over his hair, then his chiseled cheekbones, before slipping down his chest to where his torso disappeared under the covers. When she saw a slight movement, her eyes widened and she looked up at him.

“I think I’m good for now,” she said.

“We won’t,” he said, continuing to stroke her hair. “Lord knows I want to, but I don’t want either of us to get sore. Besides,” he continued, “I have to get to work.” He leaned over to kiss her softly on the mouth. “Mind if I take a shower?”

“Please,” she said, gesturing toward the bathroom.

He disappeared while she put on an oversized shirt and pulled out some clothes to wear that day. He emerged a few minutes later, freshly washed and smelling like her freesia soap. As soon as he saw her, he stopped. “Damn.”

“What?”

“You look amazing.”

“I’m a wreck.”

He shook his head. “No. You look sexy. Your hair is all messy and that shirt—”

She looked down. “It was my dad’s.”

Cole groaned. “Then I should not be thinking what I’m thinking right now.” He donned the clothes he’d brought in last night and ran his fingers through his still-damp hair. Even with limited resources, he looked utterly put-together.

“You going to take a shower now?” he asked, stroking down her arm with his hand.

“Yes.”

“Okay. I have to go, but I’d like to take you to dinner tonight, if you’re free.” She nodded. “Great. I’ll be home at seven.”

Then he kissed her on the mouth, a searing, devastatingly hot kiss that she wished could have lasted all morning. He kissed her forehead and left, the stairs creaking as he made his way to the front door. When she heard the door shut, she went to the bathroom and flicked on the water. It only took a few seconds before it was nice and hot. Stepping in, she let the water sluice over her in sheets. Let it work its magic on her sore, achy muscles. In fact, there were some aches in places she didn’t even know she possessed muscles—and for a runner, that was saying a lot.

Last night she’d come to grips with the fact that she was falling in love with Cole Grayson, the very last man she’d ever expected could make a bid for her heart. She’d tried to push him away, but he’d held on tight. And the more she thought about it, the more she realized he was just what she needed—someone strong, loyal, and real.

Cole’s PTSD had proved to be the one thing she hadn’t seen coming. All this time, she’d been worrying about her own issues, but there was something much more important at play. His file said he’d been treated for the disorder, but why wasn’t he still seeking help if the symptoms were still there? There were no answers. Only more questions that he would clearly be reluctant to address.

Sure, he came with a whole lot of baggage they’d have to deal with, but unlike dealing with a patient’s problems, this was different. This was love.

It was new and strange, but she was slowly growing used to feeling off-kilter. This was the new normal. Julie Kensington in love. Deep breath. She could do this. Finishing her shower, she stepped out to peer at herself in the mirror. She did look different. There was an aura about her. She looked satiated. Like a well-fed cat.

Julie blinked at herself, no longer surprised at what she saw.

As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t sit around her house all day thinking about Cole.

It wasn’t a terribly productive use of her time when she had a million-and-one things to do at her own office. Plus, thanks to all the exercise she’d gotten between the sheets, she was really hungry.