Chapter 10

Gavin leaned back on the couch, sitting up this time, while his therapist droned on about inner peace and finding one’s zen. Lee had helped him a lot. They’d worked out a payment plan, because weekly sessions with a shrink cost a pretty penny. It helped that Lee had been approved by the VA, but not enough to take away all the cost of an out-of-network doctor.

“Gavin? You’ve been pretty quiet today.”

Tall, thin, and prematurely gray, Lee had to be in his mid-forties. The guy had a quiet bearing and inner strength that would appeal to the mentally ill, as Gavin laughingly thought of himself. On a serious note, Lee was easy to talk to, nonjudgmental, and he’d helped Gavin learn to deal with stress, tailoring the sessions to Gavin as an individual. Because in psychology, as Lee liked to say, one size did not fit all. The office sat in the same building Ava worked in. That might have made Gavin uncomfortable if he hadn’t trusted one hundred percent in Ava and Lee as professionals.

“I met someone,” Gavin admitted, though he hadn’t intended to bring Zoe up.

“Oh?”

“She’s this woman I’ve been trying to talk to at the gym for months. Really nice, beautiful… Well, wait. Not too nice. She’s kind of smart-alecky.”

“And you like her.”

“Yeah, I do.” As a person, not just a woman he wanted to sex up.

“Right. Interesting, and something we’ll definitely discuss in just a moment. Just as soon as you answer my favorite question.” Lee paused, and Gavin knew what came next. “So how are you holding up?”

“With?” he asked, just to be contrary.

“The nightmares. Triggers in everyday life. Talking about your time in the service. Not the harsh wartime activity, but the good times with your fellow Marines. Remember, right now we’re all about stabilizing you. Getting you to a place where your coping mechanisms allow you to function without stress.”

Gavin squirmed. He hadn’t mentioned his cousin’s wedding at their last meeting. And he felt like he needed to. “I kind of had an issue at Mike’s wedding.”

Lee sat quietly. “Go on.”

“Mike’s my cousin. I told you about him a while ago. It was the Saturday before last. The wedding was really nice but crowded, mostly with family and people I know. I was dealing. Then I was talking to a few guys I didn’t know too well. They’re big, tough dudes with attitude.”

“There was a problem?”

“Well, not with feeling threatened by them. Not that I wanted the fight, but I pretty much already knew how I’d take them out if they came at me.” And he’d been confident he could incapacitate them before grabbing something heavy, maybe a knife—something to really take them out. “They got a little aggressive, thought I’d messed with a friend of theirs. Which I hadn’t. I’d just talked to the woman. Pretty, nice. Not my type.”

Lee nodded at him to continue. He didn’t take notes, but he listened. Super intense, that gaze. Like Gavin was the only one who mattered right now.

“So anyway, I was still okay. Then the music got loud, thumping. Some techno crap that tapped into memories.” He hated when that happened, when bad scenes overwhelmed him. Gavin loved the USMC to this day. But he wasn’t a robot who could turn on and off that killing switch in his brain. He’d done his duty, but there’d been a cost.

“What did you do?” Lee asked.

“I breathed in and out, deeply. Calmed myself, reminded myself I was safe, that it was just music, and I was at another mandatory family wedding in Seattle. Not under a desert sun. Helped that the guys kind of backed away, so I had a place to move to if I needed it. But I pulled myself out of the moment. I was good.”

Lee smiled. “That’s great. So the breathing and focus are helping.”

“Yeah. It’s a lot better now. Plus I’m clearheaded. Not drinking or anything.” He paused. “And, well, it was weird, but when I was with Zoe, the girl I mentioned, we were gardening, and I felt that same kind of ease. I feel that way a lot when I’m with her.”

“Gardening is wonderful therapy for dealing with issues of posttraumatic stress, you know.”

“It is?”

“Yes. You’re getting your hands dirty, out in nature, under the sun.”

“In my case, the stars.”

Lee blinked. “Or the stars. You tap into Mother Nature, and something instinctual responds to that caring and nurturing. You were building, helping to create life.”

“Yeah.” He felt damn good about that. “I have a plant. His name is Leon.” Gavin grinned at Lee’s surprise. “He’s a lavender cutting Zoe gave me. I hooked him up with a bunch of lady flowers, and they look pretty damn good outside my front door.”

“Lady flowers? So your plant has a harem, eh?”

“Well, yeah. Though there might be a guy flower in there too. I’m game for my boy being an equal opportunity lover. Everybody wants Leon.”

Lee snorted.

“But in all seriousness, the gardening made me feel good. And Zoe…she, ah, she makes me feel that too. Not just because the sex is out-of-this-world fantastic either.” He was still trying to make sense of that incredible connection.

“So she’s different from those others before.”

Gavin had told Lee all about his flings and his growing dependence on booze. “Yeah. She’s special. We’re new to being together, but she’s fun. I feel good around her, clean. And as much as she makes me want to burst out of my skin when she’s around, ’cause she’s all kinds of sexy hot, she calms me too. I can’t explain it.”

“Because she’s more than a physical anchor. She’s become an emotional one.”

“I guess. Her sister died not long ago. And I know Zoe gets it. That she knows real loss. Zoe really loved her.”

“I see.” Lee leaned forward. “You’re still going to the gym?”

Change in subject, but okay. “Yeah.”

“And the nightmares? You didn’t say. Are they still with you?”

“Now that I think about it, not so much. I mean, I still have one occasionally, but not like all the time.”

“That’s good. You need to be prepared to deal with the resurgence when, not if, you get them. Anything can trigger you, even subconsciously. But the key is to not let it drag you back down, but to cope. Gardening is a wonderful tool I’d planned to mention in this session anyway. Another method of easing your worries is a pet.”

“A pet. Hell, I have Leon.”

Lee’s lips curled. “I meant something with fur or feathers. Dogs are wonderful, actually. Pets can be very therapeutic. The furry texture, that stroking, can be calming. And bonding with a living creature who loves you unconditionally, who accepts you for you are, is ideal.” He gave Gavin a hard look. “It’s so interesting how we can accept that kind of love from someone else, yet often we can’t give ourselves what we really need, out of some notion we aren’t deserving of that kind of devotion and affection.”

Gavin sighed. “Not this again.”

“We both know you won’t really begin to heal until you can accept that you’re allowed to be happy, to live a full life without any regret.”

“Aren’t regrets a part of living?”

“Sure. Like, I should have chosen the chocolate instead of the vanilla. Not, I wish it were me and not my friend in that grave.” Lee shook his head. “But we’ll talk about when you’re ready. Later. Now, something about this Zoe.”

“Yeah?”

“Are you sure you’re not replacing the relief you get from exercise with the joy of a new romance, with the physical side of sex?”

“A good question. I’ve thought about that a lot.” Gavin leaned back, staring at the ceiling with his head resting on the back of the sofa. “At first, it was about trying to get her to smile. I’d flirt, she’d ignore me. Tell me off. Then she became a challenge. It was when I backed off, figuring she wanted nothing to do with me, that we finally connected. But it wasn’t just sex at first, much as I wanted her. Now that we’re going out, kind of, I know it could end.” And that scared the piss out of him, but he wasn’t ready to tell Lee that yet. Because he wasn’t ready to admit it out loud to himself either.

“And that’s okay with you?”

“It would upset me, sure. She’s fine as hell, and she makes me laugh. But we’re not serious or anything. She’s the first woman who makes me feel good about myself, I guess. So yeah, if it ended, it might hurt.” Like having his heart ripped out through his chest with bare fingers.

“That’s what concerns me. You’re still learning to ground yourself. I think a relationship is healthy, Gavin. Don’t get me wrong. But I don’t want you to rely on her to make you feel good. You have to do that for yourself.”

“I get it. I really do.”

Lee seemed to relax. “Good. Is there anything else you wanted to talk about?”

Gavin still wasn’t ready to discuss seeing his dead buddy’s sister at the grocery store a few weeks ago. Nor did he relish talking about his anxiety over Nicole, Mick’s widow, leaving him phone messages. Messages he still hadn’t listened to, because he couldn’t. Not yet.

“I’m good.”

“Okay then. Now sit up and show me how you meditate. Without all the bitching and moaning this time, I mean.”

Gavin groaned. “You still need to get laid. I just know when that happens, you’ll be much more fun to be around.”

As usual, Lee ignored his remarks. “Let’s see it, show-off.”

So Gavin got into the zone, but instead of keeping the world out and himself centered inside a warm golden cocoon of safety, he imagined Zoe’s smile building a wall around the pair of them.

* * *

Gavin saw Zoe’s text and smiled. He’d wondered when she’d push for a no-sex date. No doubt the stubborn woman thought she’d have to force him into spending time with her that didn’t end with some part of his anatomy buried in hers.

But the truth was, he wanted to spend time with her any way he could. After his session with Lee yesterday, he’d thought long and hard about Zoe’s impact on his life and his psyche. No way could he see her having a negative impact on him. Even if she were to dump him and break his heart into a million pieces tomorrow, he wouldn’t regret a second with her, and he wouldn’t turn violent, become a meth head, or start shooting at people from a rooftop.

She’d done nothing but enhance his life. If he’d learned anything from dealing with loss and from Lee, it was to appreciate what he had in the now. Not look for possible problems tomorrow.

While working at the gym, he ignored Mac’s insistence that he wear the double-XL gym shirt that had come in. He put in a solid eight hours, including a harrowing training session with Max Grenly, an eighty-nine-year-old athlete who wheezed through his exercises. Gavin kept waiting for the guy to have a heart attack, prepared to give CPR. But the old man only cracked jokes about the women in his assisted living center and did his bicep curls like a pro.

Now cleaned up and ready to impress, Gavin waited for Zoe outside the Chihuly Garden and Glass exhibit in Seattle Center. Ava and Hope had mentioned it once or twice, but he’d rather have his teeth pulled than walk around a place decorated with glass. Personally, he didn’t care for museums. Unless someone mentioned the Pro Football Hall of Fame. And he still wanted to head to Lambeau Field in Green Bay to check out the statue of legendary coach Vince Lombardi in all his glory. But yeah, Zoe had chosen glass, which was basically melted-down sand. Whoop-dee-do.

He saw her coming and pasted a smile on his face. “Hey, baby.”

“Sweetums. How are you, Smoky?”

“Just dandy. I can’t wait to look at all this pretty glass.”

She snickered. “Come on. This is real art. Let’s go look around.” They bought their tickets and continued inside.

Sure, he could readily admit that whoever had made the amazing, colorful glass fixed to the ceilings and hanging in spikes had mastered his or her craft. But for seventeen bucks a ticket, he could have had two beers and fries while watching a Mariners game. And all while seated on his ass in a cozy little bar.

Zoe oohed and aahed over everything, and he slowly found himself oohing with her. Enjoying her pleasure in the sights. She reached for his hand, and he gave it gladly, walking with her like they were a real couple.

Maybe this art place wasn’t such a bad deal after all. The sun had begun to set, but even shadowed, the sculptures outside glowed with alien, fluidlike life. Blue spikes, tentacle-like spires, and round, meditation balls dotted the greenery like an alien landscape. Gavin and Zoe moved back inside, where the primary colors of glass molds and forms in the ceiling were cast down at them, providing a muted glow.

“This is just amazing,” Zoe said, her voice hushed.

“You can talk louder. It’s not church, you know,” he teased.

“Shh. Come on.” She tugged his hand, and they moved through the museum, stopping, staring, and commenting. Her childlike joy made him see it all through her eyes. And he loved every second of it.

By the time they finished two hours later, he couldn’t believe how much time had passed. They’d meandered through one and a half acres of exhibits.

“All right. This was fun,” he admitted. “I can’t believe you’ve never been here before.”

“It was Aubrey’s favorite place to go,” Zoe said quietly. “I used to tell her we’d go later. When I could get the time. I preferred hiking or going to the mountains.” She shrugged, but he could see Zoe wished she’d taken the time to go with her sister.

“Didn’t you tell me your sister was an artist?”

“A photographer.” She nodded. “She had some amazing pictures of this place. What was your favorite part?” she asked, her voice deliberately cheery.

He had to hand it to her. Zoe didn’t try to avoid her pain. Not like he did. She met it head on. He squeezed her hand, amazed they had only separated from each other a few times in all the time they’d been there. “This place is amazing. I liked Mille Fiori. It means a thousand flowers, right? I mean, come on. The glasshouse was like forty feet tall.”

She nodded. “I read that it’s 4,500 square feet in size. And that centerpiece sculpture is one hundred feet long.”

“That’s a lot of glass.”

“Yes. Oh, and one other thing.”

“Yeah?”

She gave him a quick peck on the lips, and the tingle shot all the way to his feet. “I told you so. Ha.”

“You had to rub that in.”

“Yes. When I told you where we’d be going tonight, I knew you’d think it would be boring.”

“Really? Now who’s stereotyping? Just because I’m a guy doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate art.”

She took her hand away—damn it—and crossed her arms over her chest. “Really? Because I distinctly overheard you talking to Shane about it at the gym, about what a—your words, not mine—pussy he was for hitting up all those ‘stupid museums’ just to keep his wife happy.”

“You should never eavesdrop, Zoe. It’s very unbecoming,” Gavin said in a deliberately prissy tone.

She tried not to laugh. And failed.

As she collected herself, he nudged her toward the sidewalk, and they walked back to the parking garage on Mercer. “So it was okay going there, even though you miss your sister?”

“Yes. I’m glad you went with me.”

Touched that she’d asked him to go even though she’d known it would be difficult, he nodded. “This was about more than your sister though.”

“Oh?”

“This was about trying to torture me. Confess.”

“Well, the trip did have that going for it.”

They continued to tease, passing a few other couples out for a stroll. But the encroaching darkness, and the unknown, kept Gavin on edge, especially when he spotted two unsavory men walking their way. They seemed a little too aggressive for casual strollers. And they were focused too intently on the lady and her kid coming toward Gavin for him to ignore them.

His adrenaline buzzed. “Hey, Zoe. Wait here for a minute, okay?”

She blinked. “Ah, sure.” She paused on the sidewalk, watching with understanding when the skeevier of the two guys, the one wearing a beanie and an olive-green jacket, reached for the lady’s purse strap.

“Hey,” Gavin yelled and moved closer.

The young boy with the woman looked frightened, so Gavin smiled.

“Hey, Mike, is that you?” he said to Beanie, who was still reaching for the purse. Almost there…

Beanie froze. Next to him, his friend sneered. “His name isn’t Mike, dickhead. Get lost.”

The lady and her boy moved quickly away, now behind Gavin. Content innocents wouldn’t be caught in the melee to come, Gavin kept his smile and stepped closer to the thugs. Both men smelled as if they hadn’t bathed in weeks. Up close, their pupils didn’t look right, and their jittery mannerisms hinted at drug abuse. Beanie was the taller of the two but didn’t have the mean look his tweaker friend did.

“Not Mike?” Gavin frowned. “Hmm. Must be his doppelgänger.”

The tough guy said, “What?” Then he looked Gavin over, glanced at Beanie, and shrugged. “You’ll do. Give me twenty bucks.”

“Or what?”

“What do you mean, or what?”

“I mean, if I don’t give you twenty bucks, what then?”

Beanie raised his shirt and showed off a gun tucked into his pants.

It looked dirty, and Gavin marveled that the guy hadn’t accidentally shot his dick off, if the thing was actually loaded.

“Is that a 9mm? Do you mind?” He tugged the pistol free, ejected the magazine, and cleared the round from the chamber in seconds. Then he tossed the gun into the dirt beside him, along with the magazine and round. “What do you have?” he asked the mean one.

But Mean Guy was already pulling a knife. He looked stringy but strong, and no match for a Marine with a grudge against bullies. Gavin heard loud chatter near them as they gained an audience. Then a siren in the distance. But this being the city, there was no guarantee the wailing sound signaled police coming for these two idiots.

So he handled things. He grabbed Mean Guy’s hand, twisted his wrist to make him drop the knife, and used his free hand to punch Beanie in the nose when Beanie took a step toward him.

Beanie dropped, holding his face, and moaned. Mean Guy shrieked in pain and held his wrist. But Gavin hadn’t snapped it, as much as he’d wanted to.

“Gavin, the police are on the way,” Zoe said from a few steps behind him. Calm, collected, she eased him as well. A good thing, because for a second, he’d wondered how much trouble he’d be in if he bent down to let Mean Guy get closer, then tossed him to the ground and stomped the fucker’s neck. Nothing like an internal decapitation to cut down on a crime streak.

Instead, Gavin eased away, kicked the gun and ammo farther from the criminals, and waited with Zoe for a pair of uniforms. He gave a quick statement, echoed by the woman with her son, Zoe, and a few others who’d gathered to witness.

“Fastest takedown, man,” a twentysomething guy was telling the cops. “Like a ninja. Dude did some kind of kung fu.”

The cop looked to Gavin and raised a brow.

“Simple hand-to-hand. Marine Corps.”

The cop nodded. “Thanks. We’ll contact you if we need anything else.”

They had his number. Gavin nodded, still trying to come down off the adrenaline high. Would this give him bad dreams tonight? He didn’t know.

Zoe tugged him away, and to his mortification, he heard clapping behind him.

“Semper Fi, man,” one of the onlookers yelled out.

He put up a hand to wave and walked faster.

“Slow down, Mr. Marathon. My legs don’t go that fast unless I’m running.”

“Sorry.” He let out a breath, subtly trying to calm himself.

She didn’t touch him, but Zoe helped all the same. “You know, that was pretty damn heroic.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t like the way they were looking at that woman and her kid. Christ. It’s nearly broad daylight.”

“Well, it’s almost nine, but you’re right. That was pretty gutsy of them. That or desperate.”

“Should have broken his hand. Thou shalt not steal.”

She chuckled, and Gavin relaxed even more. “Exactly. But I’m serious, Gavin. What you did was heroic, and you should be rewarded.”

His body thrummed. “Oh?”

“But not with sex. It wasn’t that impressive.”

* * *

Gavin barked a laugh at Zoe’s outright lie. Not impressive? Good God. He’d disarmed two dangerous men with his bare hands! One had a gun, the other a knife, and he’d handled them as if back in the class at Jameson’s demonstrating a simple self-defense technique.

“You never showed us that clearing-the-gun move at the gym. I’d like to learn that one.”

“Hmm. It’s a little more advanced.”

They entered the parking garage, and she saw him become alert for trouble. The way he’d been while they walked back, but more so. She wondered if this episode with the purse-snatchers would bother him. Coming back from the service and having issues would surely lead to other problems with conflict. She’d seen TV specials on war trauma and PTSD, which might be what he suffered from.

Nightmares, the inability to handle crowds, body hyperarousal, sleepless nights. Just some of the symptoms of posttraumatic stress. He’d seemed okay with the crowd tonight, though to be fair, the museum hadn’t been packed, just moderately filled with art lovers who respected personal space.

Gavin unlocked her car door, then moved around to his. The expression on his face was painful to see, an emptiness in his gaze, a kind of internal hurt. But he hadn’t asked for her comfort, and a man like Gavin would have his pride.

Once inside his car, they sat in silence.

“Well? What now, Mistress?”

She forced a smirk. “Now we go to my place. Not for sex.”

“Quit reminding me,” he growled and drove her home. They chatted about the exhibit some more, and about which other cultural events he had no interest in. He agreed on never, ever seeing an opera or a ballet. But he liked quiet, intimate jazz bars, which surprised her. Jazz was fairly sophisticated music for someone not into art.

Back at her place, she took him outside to the patio. “Sit. I’m going to get you your reward.” She ignored the hungry look he shot at her body. “Vanilla hot-fudge sundae work for you?”

His slow smile struck her right in the heart. So innocent, and so at odds with that glimpse of pain she’d seen before he got into the car. “With nuts too?”

“You really think you’re that special?”

“Peanuts. Not some froufrou sugar-coated walnuts or almond knockoffs.”

“Purist.”

“You’re damn right.”

She left him smiling and returned with two bowls full of lots of vanilla ice cream, hot fudge, whipped cream, and nuts. With a cherry on top. Only to find him kneeling by her garden, shuffling dirt around.

“Hey.”

He shot up with a guilty look on his face. “Oh ah, that was fast.”

“What were you doing to my cucumbers?”

“Such accusation in that tone.” He tried to joke it off, but she saw his fists clench.

“Oh. Weeding. I see.” She totally didn’t, but she felt bad for teasing. “Look, the sundae will keep. But since you do owe me for taking you to an awesome museum—”

“Which I paid for,” he mumbled.

“Then you should take care of Violet. See? If you can name your plant, I can name mine.”

“Which one is Violet?” He started to relax.

“The big geranium in that pot. I have to move her to replace the dead thing my aunt swears will come back to life. It won’t, and she’s going to blame me for killing it, though she gave it to me already dead. The potting stuff is over there. Hop to. Chop-chop.”

He blinked. “Seriously?”

“Well, yeah. I’m eating ice cream over here.” She took a big scoop and sighed, ignoring the brain freeze. Oy. What I do for my boyfriend.

His eyes crinkled, and he laughed. Then he kissed her. “Hmm. Vanilla. Not my favorite, but the fudge makes up for it. Tell you what. I’ll do the hard labor while you feed me and tell me how brave and awesome and sexy I am.”

“Seriously?” He really made her want to laugh.

“I have self-esteem issues. Plus I’m doing your work.”

“Kind of like I was doing yours and your sister’s in Magnolia, hmm?”

“Not the same thing at all. That was a date to impress you. Now feed me, woman.”

He ate the ice cream like he was making love to it. By the time he finished, Zoe was hot and bothered. And not having any sex, because their relationship had to be more than casual.

It had to be for both of them, because Zoe feared she’d started falling for the muscular Marine with buried wounds, who owned a plant that had girlfriends and wore a smile that turned her world upside down.

And that’s how Zoe found herself wishing to trade places with a spoon on a Friday night with a man made for loving.