“I assure you, nothing here will bite.”

Brogan sat in the counselor’s office, nervously looking around as his hands twisted in his lap. His gaze jumped to Charles, the counselor, and a wry smile slipped out. “Sorry. Guess I’m not used to doing much talking.”

“Don’t be sorry. Coming here is a huge step for anyone and, to be perfectly honest, for most of the military men and women we see, many say it’s scarier to step into this office than to go into battle.”

Brogan sought Charles’ eyes, seeing understanding, and nodded. “In battle, you have adrenaline and your squad at your side. Here?” he looked around, “I’m all alone.”

“But here is where you’re not alone anymore,” Charles said. “You’re here because you’ve been all alone in your thoughts, your concerns. But now, with assistance, you won’t be alone. And my job is to listen, help you discover what’s on your mind and then assist you in finding a way to move forward in life.”

“I notice you don’t say you’ll do the work.”

Charles chuckled as he shook his head. “You’re right. My job is to lead and guide you. You’ll find the way on your own with my assistance.”

The two sat in companionable silence for a few minutes and then Charles suggested, “Why don’t you just talk to me. Tell me what’s on your mind. Keep it as simple or as in depth as you are comfortable with today.”

Brogan dropped his chin to his chest as his forearms rested on his thighs. “You’ve probably heard of the Baytown Boys.” Looking up, he viewed Charles’ knowing smile and shook his head ruefully, “Yeah, I guess everyone around here has.” Sucking in a deep breath, he said, “I loved this town. I loved my friends. Thought it was the greatest life there was. Unlike some of my friends, who were chomping at the bit to leave, I knew I could settle here and be happy. But, by the time I was a senior, and a bunch had decided to join the service, listening to them talk about the world out there, the bug bit me and I wanted that too. Me, Mitch Evans, Grant Wilder, Philip Bayles, and Zac Hamilton finished high school and left for our boot camps right after graduation. The next year, my brother, Aiden, and Callan Ward joined as well.” Snorting, he added, “We all made our way back here after finding out the world wasn’t as grand as we thought it was.” He paused a moment and added, “Well, all except Philip that is. I guess, in retrospect, we were lucky no one else came home to be buried.”

Charles nodded his understanding, encouraging Brogan to continue. “Tell me about the Brogan who was a Baytown Boy back in the day.”

Unable to hide the grin that slipped out, Brogan answered, “We all came from strong families. My parents and my grandfather are good people…taught me and my siblings right from wrong. The rest of the Baytown Boys were the same…best damn people I’ve ever known. We went from kids who ran around, biked, kayaked, swam in the ocean, had a clubhouse, and bothered the girls, to teens who played all sports together and good-naturedly battled to see who might get the girls. But we didn’t fuck around. We never got into trouble. Like I said, we knew right from wrong.”

Charles peered at Brogan intently. “Right from wrong. You’ve mentioned that phrase several times. That’s important to you?”

Brogan’s blue eyes jumped to Charles’ face. “Hell, yeah. It’s what we were taught. Honesty. Integrity. Loyalty. It was what my dad used to call the measure of a man.” Seeing Charles nod, he continued, “It was what I was. It was who I was.”

“And now?” Charles’ asked, his voice soft.

Swallowing deeply, Brogan said, “Not so much.”

The silence felt stiff for a moment until Brogan sighed. “Things changed over there. Things happened. I changed. And ever since, I feel like a phony. Like everyone thinks I’m still the same, but I know I’m not. I know I failed.”

“And that failure makes you feel…?”

Looking up, Brogan answered without hesitation, sadness lacing his rough voice, “Unworthy.”

* * *

Ginny watched as his feet pounded the sand, running hard and fast in the midday sun. Brogan had not seen her yet but the intense expression of his face as he neared the dune had her rethinking her surprise visit. And yet, she longed to take away the fierce anger that seemed to stay within him. She had bared her soul to him and he had taken the weight of it. But now, she wondered if it was too heavy…or perhaps an unwanted burden. Not wanting to startle him, she started walking down the dune, observing when he first noticed her. His eyes lit from within before darkening with whatever was on his mind.

Sucking in a deep breath, she smiled as her hand lifted in a wave. He stopped several feet from her, his breath ragged as his naked, sweaty chest heaved. She watched the play of muscles move as he worked to control his breathing, in part fascination and in part in longing to run her hands over his chest and abs. The tattoos on his arms and chest fascinated her. She had toyed with the idea of getting a tattoo, but could never decide on what she might want permanently inked into her skin.

Stepping a bit closer, she looked up and greeted him. “Hey. I hope I’m not interrupting.”

Snorting, he took the t-shirt hanging about his neck and wiped his face before replying, “Nope. I’m glad you’re interrupting me trying to kill myself with a heart attack or heat stroke.”

Stepping another pace closer, she held his gaze as she admonished, “Please don’t do anything crazy like that.”

“I’m a tough ol’ bull,” he said. “It’ll take more than a long, hot run to do me in.”

She looked down at her feet for a moment wondering how to ask what she wanted to ask. He lifted her chin with his forefinger and peered into her eyes.

“I can see your mind working,” he stated. “What’s on it?”

“I…well, I just...”

“Honey, as long as I’ve been around you, you’ve never been at a loss for words. Just spit it out.”

“I was just wondering if you were all right.”

He held her gaze before finally dropping his chin to his chest, placing his fists on his hips. “Who told?”

“Aiden and Katelyn were talking about the family dinner and she said something to Jillian, who saw you coming out of the counseling office when she was picking up Grant from his session.”

“Fuckin’ small town,” he cursed. “No privacy. Everyone always up in everyone’s business.” He felt her cool hand on his overheated arm and looked at the delicate fingers against his tanned skin.

“Brogan, look at me,” she ordered gently. As he lifted his gaze, she plunged ahead. “No one is talking about you. But your family and your friends care.” Without hesitation, she added, “I care.” She moved one of her hands from his arm up to his chest, feeling it rumble under her fingertips as he spoke.

“Ginny, I’m all sweaty.”

A small smile slipped across her face as she slid her other hand up his chest. “I don’t care…you’re all gorgeous and sweaty—”

Grabbing her hands in his, he stilled the movement, then apologized as a flash of doubt filled her eyes. “Sorry. It’s not that I don’t want your hands on me. Hell, the thought of your hands on me has been on my mind ever since you moved into town. But, uh…let’s just say that I’m gonna have one hell of an erection if this keeps going.”

Blushing, she tried—and failed—to keep her eyes from dropping to his crotch. And the visible bulge had her gaze jumping back to his eyes in time to see him close his as he dropped his chin to his chest once more. “Sorry,” she whispered.

“Don’t be,” he said, a grin making its way through his irritation of being the subject of talk. Looking at her face turned up toward his, the care in her eyes, he said, “You want to come in? It’ll only take a minute for me to shower and I can throw some steaks on the grill and we can talk.”

“Sounds perfect,” she said, loving that he kept her hand in his as they made their way back over the dune to his house. Entering, he told her to make herself at home and he headed back to his bathroom. She went into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, seeing what she might fix to go along with steak. Finding corn on the cob and several baking potatoes in a bin on the counter, she took them out along with the meat.

MB walked into the room, swirling around her food dish and Ginny found some cat food in the cabinet. Putting a small amount down, she stroked the silky, black fur, enjoying the sound of purring emanating from the small cat.

By the time she started prepping dinner, Brogan walked back into the room. Seeing her in his kitchen pierced his heart, never thinking to see that sight. Hearing him, she turned around, her smile beaming at him and, once more, his heart felt the twinge.

Ginny’s gaze took in his dark, wet hair, his face with its dark stubble covering his jaws. A clean, white t-shirt stretched across his biceps and chest muscles. His jeans were filled out in all the right places, from the tight thighs to the comfortably worn material over the crotch. As her eyes continued their descent, she took in his bare toes. Damn. The man is gorgeous.

“Babe,” his voice rumbled.

Her gaze jumped back to his.

Chuckling, he walked toward her, kissed the top of her head, and grabbed the plate of steaks along with some bottles of seasonings. Walking out, he called, “Join me out here as soon as you can.”

With the corn and potatoes wrapped in aluminum foil ready for the grill, she headed out to the weather-beaten deck off the kitchen, facing the bay. Admiring his backside as he stood at the grill, she smiled as she walked up next to him, setting the platter on the grill shelf. An hour later, the meal was eaten, the sun was setting, and the two sat on the deck in old, paint-chipped, Adirondack chairs watching the colors of the sky pass before them.

Licking her lips, she glanced out of the corner of her eye toward him, seeing his stoic expression firmly in place. “You know, you don’t have to talk to me about anything. I just want you to be okay. And, well, I’ve been talking to a counselor about my situation and it’s enough for me to know that you’re getting some peace as well.”

“I don’t know if peace is what I’ll find, Ginny.”

She fingered the water droplets falling from her glass for a moment before looking over at him. “Brogan, you took care of me. You listened to me. You didn’t judge me. You gave me the strength to face my demons.” She held his gaze as she finished, “I’d like to do the same for you.”

Shaking his head, he said, “I noticed you when you first came to town. You came in to the pub with Grant and Burt and were introduced to the crowd. Holy shit, Ginny, it was like looking at a ray of sunshine.”

She snorted, “Me? A ray of sunshine?” Peering up at him, she queried, “With all the women in town? You noticed me?”

Holding her gaze, he said, “Ain’t no woman in town that can hold a candle to you. You were in police uniform…the ones before Mitch came back to be Chief and let you all wear polos and khakis. God, you were sharp, looked so smart, and so pretty. So goddamn pretty. And I knew you were good. Clean. Pure. And I cursed myself because I felt like I’d never be good enough for you.”

Ginny wanted to argue, but knew whatever demons ate at Brogan, he needed to get them out. As hard as it was for her to listen to his words, she remained quiet, attention focused entirely on him as her hand reached out to clasp his. As the sun continued to set, shadows were settling around them, wrapping them in their own private world on his deck.

“Lately, as we’ve gotten closer, I like having you in my life. But I can’t live a lie. I’ve never told anyone what I’m about to tell you. Not my family…not my friends…not even the counselor today. I started the story with him, but only got so far. Then, decided that I wanted you to hear it first. I want you to see the man that you’re with and know my worst.”

Nodding, she said, “Okay. Tell me what’s so heavy on your mind, Brogan. Please, give it to me.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, relishing the feel of her hand on his, knowing it might be the last time he had that pleasure. Swallowing deeply, he began.

“Growing up, Mitch was always the stalwart one…son of the Police Chief, he always did the right thing. Philip Bayles was the peacemaker. Looking back, I realize he had such a good soul. Zac, Grant, Callan…all rock solid guys. Aiden,” he chuckled, “was always just my brother, the jokester of the group, but I knew he felt things deep…just didn’t show it. But me? I was like the one who always demanded the best outta all of us. Whether we were on the field playing, or just having fun. Who knew I’d end up not doing the right thing…and someone would get killed because of it?”

At his words, Ginny tried to keep her breathing steady, but her heart plunged to her stomach. Forcing her hand to stay on his, she willed him to keep talking, while her mind raced to wonder what on earth she would say to make something so monumental better.

He heaved a sigh as he leaned back in his chair, eyes closed, his mind back in the villages of Afghanistan. “You realize that once you hear this, you may never want to speak to me again?”

“We all carry pain…unburden yourself, Brogan, and we’ll face it together,” she vowed, squeezing his fingers.