21 Marine Salute: 21 Always a Marine Tales (81 page)

“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 quite keep the grin off his face.

“I don’t really need to.” James settled in his chair and set his notepad to the side. “What happened?”

“Naomi.” The simple act of saying her name filled him with a giddiness he hadn’t laid claim to in years. Fresh, new, simple—fantastic—she was perfect.

“So things are moving forward with you two?”

“You could say that—and while we’re on the subject, I canceled my 1Night Stand plans—officially. I know I forfeit the deposit, but I don’t care.” Sipping the coffee, he rubbed his foot along Jethro’s side. He sprawled on his back, belly up, tongue lolling—the picture of bliss.

“Are you rushing this, Matt?” The therapist leaned forward, studying him. Despite the bland expression, concern crinkled the corners of his eyes.

“No. Maybe. I don’t care.” He’d thought about it a lot after leaving her—struggled with it before falling asleep. Hearing the soft sound of her breathing over the phone soothed him in ways he couldn’t define. He liked her, liked spending time with her, liked listening to her. Already half in love and no matter how terrifying a prospect, it thrilled him, too.

“That’s a very definitive answer.”

“Falling in love doesn’t have a definitive answer. Isn’t that what you told me?” They’d had a similar conversation months before, not long after James and Lauren rescued him from an outburst at a Plano bar. The psychologist and the movie star—a chick flick pairing if ever there was one—but they fit each other.

“No. It doesn’t. But is she aware of your issues?” Ahh, that’s what concerned him. At least in this, Matt could set his mind at ease.

“Yes. I talked to her about it. Told her about the diagnosis and about being in counseling. I also told her about my plans to go for school.”

She’d taken both pieces of information so well, he couldn’t figure out why he hadn’t mentioned it sooner. The younger sister of four Marines, she likely had her own experiences to share with him when ready.

“Good. How did she take it?”

“She understood.” Met his admission with compassion and acceptance, not pity. He knew the difference, had seen it in different people. PTSD scared people because they didn’t understand it. Not that he was an expert, but he learned and would continue learning. Limited didn’t mean incapable—it meant he needed training and experience and coping mechanisms.

“Matt, this is a process…I don’t want to discourage you from a relationship that obviously makes you happy, but it’s a process. It’s not something that will happen for you overnight. You’re going to have good days—”

“And bad days. I get that.” Exhaling, he came to his second bit of news. “I also realized something about Jethro this morning. He’s not a loaner dog, is he?”

“No.” James offered him a quiet smile. “He is a gift.”

“Why give me a specially trained dog and not tell me what he really is?” The only puzzle piece he hadn’t fit into place.

“That’s a fair question. Your anger issues made it hard to tell you what help you required. Part of healing is recognizing what you need so you can ask for it first.” The answer made a certain amount of sense.

“But why now?” He rubbed his chin. “I’ve been here on and off for two years.”

“What did you say to me when you came back this time?” James challenged.

They’d had so many conversations over the last few months, much less in the last few weeks.

“Think about it and ask me again when you remember. For now, Jethro is yours. I think you two are great together.”

Matt laughed. “It’s funny, you have more of a comment for the dog than the girl. Not sure what that says to me?”

“Stay honest with yourself, stay honest with her, and you have nothing but my best wishes.”

“Fair enough.” He nodded. “Thanks, Doc. Time for the brutal memory portion of our day?”

“No.” James shook his head. “I think today we talk about how it felt to tell her….”

***

Naomi left her guitar at the apartment, confirmed her flights, and packed her overnight bag. Choosing shorts and a tank top, she actually took time with her hair and added a touch of lip gloss. She’d already sent the new music sheets to Phil. The rest of the day stretched out in front of her and she planned to make the most of it with Matt.

He appeared around the corner of the path as if conjured by her thoughts. She couldn’t keep the grin off her face or her heart from playing Ping-Pong with her ribs. “Good morning.”

The answering smile on his face lightened his sober expression. He closed the distance between them and wrapped her up in a fierce bear hug. Inhaling his scent, she sighed and returned the squeeze. “I missed you.” The confession came easily.

Matt chuckled. “I missed you, too.” Jethro gave them a moment before butting his head between them and demanding his share of the attention. Pressing a fleeting kiss to Matt’s lips, she slipped away to crouch and give the dog a good scratch.

“Where’s your guitar?” The frown in his words echoed to her.

“I left it at the apartment—and yes, I locked the door.” She tugged the key out from beneath her top where it hung with four dog tags—one for each of her brothers.

Matt helped her up. Tracing his fingers down the chain, he gave her an inquiring look. At her nod, he turned the tags over and read them.

“They’re my brothers’. Each time they deploy, they give me one of their dog tags to keep for them. Brent’s home now, but he said I could keep his. We’re kind of scattered all around the world, but they’re always with me.” Sappy sentimentality, but she treasured the tags. She hadn’t worn them since arriving at Mike’s Place, but that morning she’d wanted to feel her brothers close.

“They’re not going to like you seeing me, are they?” Honesty hollowed the teasing from the question.

“Well, Charlie knows that I like you.” She looped her arm through his. Touching him came naturally, and for a physically affectionate person, maintaining her distance for the last several days had proven harder than she imagined. Happily, she didn’t have to anymore. “I get to talk to him every few weeks…so I thought breaking the news about a potential boyfriend when he was a few thousand miles away seemed a good plan.”

“Very sassy of you.”

“I try. Matt, they’re going to love you. They’re pains, and will probably tell you how obnoxious I am and that they’ll break your legs if you break my heart, but they really do mean well.”

His snort of laughter relaxed her. Her brothers would love him. She thought Brent in particular would like him, but they would cross that demilitarized zone when they came to it.

“I told James about us this morning.” The simple declaration surprised, and pleased her.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I’m working on a policy of being as bare-bones honest as I can during sessions. If I don’t run away from what bothers me, maybe I can fix it. You know?”

Her stomach wavered.
Bothered him
?

“Not that you bother me.” He paused to slip his arm around her waist and pull her closer. “You make me a little crazy, and I’m currently wondering how many people come through this part of the park, but you don’t bother me.”

“Come through here? Why would you…oh.” Desire shivered through her. “We can go to the apartment….”

“We could, but talking is better—for now. And Jethro needs a walk. He’s a specially trained dog, did you know that?”

Unwilling to muddy their potential with even the slightest of lies, she nodded. “I guessed—he reacts to your moods so beautifully, and I’ve read about the work they’ve done with service dogs. Didn’t you know?”

“Nope.” His expression turned rueful. They came to the clearing where she’d composed most of the week, and Matt let her go to unclip Jethro’s leash. The Labrador bounded away, did his business, and returned with a stick. “I didn’t really have a diagnosis before a few days ago. Doc knew, but he didn’t tell me.”

“That sounds strange…why wouldn’t he?” More curious than critical, she grabbed a spot and sat. He joined her and lifted her legs to lay across his.

“I wasn’t ready to hear it. I focused on my inability to adjust and kept blaming myself for the hearing loss. It sounds really stupid now, but I couldn’t see the forest for the trees.” He sent the stick sailing for Jethro and the dog raced after it. “I went home a few months ago—for the second time—and I’ve always felt like my family pressured me to be who I was before I enlisted and that I couldn’t live up to it. It’s like having tunnel vision, and I couldn’t see what my triggers really were. When I lost it there, I packed my bags and came straight back to Mike’s Place.”

He paused, his attention turned inward and she waited. If he wanted to finish the story, he would, she didn’t want to push. Jethro returned with the stick, and Matt threw it again, throwing it three more times before he sighed and looked at her.

“I promised James I would be honest with you. So here it is…I came back this time, and I decided I either got better, or I was done. I wouldn’t put my family through that again, and I didn’t think I could go through it again. I asked James today why he diagnosed me now, why they got me the dog and didn’t tell me about his training, what made this time so different….”

Naomi held her breath, the absolute quiet and certitude in Matt’s voice aged him.

“I was suicidal. I’d made the decision this time. No more sitting on the fence, it was over the wall or I was done.” He exhaled the words in a rush. “I sat with a gun on the table every night for a week.”

The information sent a shock of pain through her. She reached out and caught his hand. “Matt….”

“No, let me get this out or I won’t,” he admonished. “I couldn’t do it. I thought about it, worked it out in my head. Imagined what it would be like, but I couldn’t—wouldn’t—do it. I locked the gun away and took Jethro for a walk…and then I met you. I can’t get better for you, I can’t make my recovery about you, and I’m not doing that.”

Jethro dropped the stick and came over to rub against him. Matt wrapped his free arm around the dog and scratched between his ears. “We’re good, buddy. Almost done.” Squinting at her, Matt blew out a breath. “I’m damaged. It could take a lifetime to put the pieces back where they’re all supposed to be. You said last night you could handle it, and I believe you. I promise you I’m going to do my best to handle it, too. But we gotta be honest. I have to be honest with you and you have to tell me when it gets to be too much. That way—we do it together.”

She melted. “Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah.”

Tugging her hand, he pulled her closer and she crawled into his arms and met his kiss. “Matt—it won’t be easy. Nothing worth having ever is. I like what we have though, and I’m willing to fight for it.”

“Okay.” And when he said it, she heard the
I love you
.

“Think we can get naked now?”

Naomi laughed and rose, dusting the grass off her bottom. “Race you!” She sprinted, taking advantage of the few seconds he needed to get the leash on Jethro, but he made it to her door before her and as soon as the lock gave, they made it to the bed in record time.

By late afternoon, Naomi felt wrung out and limper than an overcooked spaghetti noodle. She poured everything she had into every single song. The band Phil hired proved exceptional. They took her music and turned it into something magical. Breaking for a quick dinner and with only two songs left to go, she begged off eating with everyone—walking down the street to a sandwich shop and finding a quiet place to sit and just be.

Making music was a dream—had been a fantasy for years—actually making it? Alone for five minutes in her head, her mind whirled with the possibilities. She checked her phone—four messages—all from her brothers and one from her sister-in-law. Hitting callback on Ryleigh’s number, she listened to it ring.

“Hello, Guitar Girl, glad you found five minutes to call me. I was starting to feel ignored.” Eight years her senior, Ryleigh became the sister Naomi never had. Brent met her in high school and they dated through junior college, his boot camp, and married before his first deployment.

“I heard tell of ovulation so I really didn’t want to interrupt.” She could totally discuss that topic with her sister-in-law.

“Ahh, yes. We’re safe, I promise. Brent’s got meetings on the Hill for hours yet. It’s almost like he’s deployed, only I get to see him for five minutes each night before he falls asleep on the sofa.”

“Things going good then?” The breeze off the river, the sun dappling the sidewalk, and the quiet murmur of background conversation helped Naomi relax.