“We sure were,” Jules said, drawing him from his thoughts. “It’s one of the things I love most about living here. We take care of our own.”
Like you’re trying to take care of me. Grant gritted his teeth. He was a man, a warrior. He didn’t want or need taking care of. At least that’s what he’d always believed. He glanced at Jules as she ate her sandwich and gazed out at the water. He couldn’t deny how good it felt to spend time with her, or that she seemed to know more about what he needed than he did.
“I wish I knew who that painting pixie was,” he said casually.
Jules grinned from ear to ear. “You’re happy she brought the painting supplies?”
God, your smile…
He swore it brightened the darkness he’d been carrying for months.
“Don’t let your wings get all aflutter, but it helps to get all that shit out of my head.”
“Yay!” She wiggled her shoulders. “I’m so happy.” She quickly schooled her expression, and said, “Sorry, there’s no wing fluttering going on over here. Just eat your food and ignore me.”
As if ignoring her were even possible.
When they finished their sandwiches, Jules split the cookie in half and opened the yogurt. “You’re going to think this sounds gross, but if you dip the cookie in the yogurt, it’s delicious.”
“You’re right, it sounds gross.”
“Just try it.” She dipped her half of the cookie in the yogurt and held it up for him to taste.
Grant wasn’t into being fed, but the hopeful glimmer in her eyes had him accepting her offer and taking a bite. The silky yogurt blended deliciously with the crunchy cookie. “Damn. That’s unexpectedly good.”
“I told you.” She did that adorable shoulder wiggle again.
They ate their cookie as the sun set over the water, and as he bagged their trash and the rest of the food, Jules said, “Can I sit closer? I’m freezing.”
He put the bag behind them, and when she scooted closer, he put his arm around her.
She snuggled against his side, resting her head on his shoulder. “Thanks. This is so much better.”
Man, she felt good. Really good and right in a way that nothing had for a very long time. He reminded himself to be careful, but it had been so long since anything had felt good and right, he allowed himself to enjoy it. Just for one night.
“Want my coat?” he offered.
“Nope, I like this,” she said sweetly. “I love watching the sunset. I guess you didn’t get to see many when you were out on missions.”
“It wasn’t a stop-and-smell-the-roses type of job.”
“I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said the other night, about the future you were supposed to have.”
“Jules, I don’t want to argue about what I’m not or what I want.”
“Good, because neither do I. I just wanted to say, if that’s what you want, to be fighting for our country, then you should go for it.”
Go for it. Right. As if he could just decide he was going and jump right in.
“You should do what makes you happiest instead of sitting around here angry and depressed.”
“I’m not depressed, Jules. I’ve gone through months of therapy, and yeah, I went through bouts of depression for the first couple of months, but for some reason I was spared from that hell.” She was doing it, getting him to say things he hadn’t told anyone, and he couldn’t seem to stop. “I feel guilty about that sometimes, because I know guys who have been plagued with depression and PTSD for years. I know how blessed I am. I’m just pissed. I’ve always been a guy with a plan, and you called it the other night when you said I was stuck.”
“Because you want a gun in your hand.”
He hated how that made him sound. “Because I don’t have any idea what I’m supposed to do with my life anymore. I was prepared to die for my country or to retire an old man who had spent his life doing something meaningful. I wasn’t prepared for this. I went from being handpicked to be part of an elite team of warriors that went places and performed missions others couldn’t to looking at a future I never fathomed. I lived my entire adult life in a constant state of preparation, of critical thinking, strategizing, plowing forward on every front. If I wasn’t on a mission, I was preparing for one, training, working my body to make sure I was in prime shape. Everyone thinks I’m pissed because of my leg, but fuck my leg. It’s not about that. Shit happens. People get blown up. I’m still alive, I get that, and I appreciate that every damn day. But I miss being part of a team and doing something that matters.”
“What kind of jobs did you do with Darkbird?”
Nobody had asked him about his old job in so long, it took him by surprise. “The group I worked with had high-level clearances. I can’t talk about the places I’ve been or what I’ve done in any detail. But imagine having your life, friends, and family ripped away and never being able to go back to that life. Never being able to do the things you spent years training for or be with those people again.”
“I can’t. It would devastate me,” she said sadly. “Everything and everyone I love is on this island. I mean, except Leni and Sutton, who are in New York, and Levi and Joey, who are in Harborside, and our other relatives, but you know what I mean. If I could never see my family, Bellamy, Tara, or you, or…I’d be lost.”
“Exactly. That’s what happened to me when I left my team.”
“Oh, Grant.”
She lifted her eyes to his and reached up to touch his cheek. It was the tender touch of a couple, and again she acted like it was natural to treat him that way. He didn’t know what to make of that, but he felt himself being drawn deeper into her. When she lowered her hand, he longed for that connection. What the hell was going on? He’d never longed for anything with a woman, except maybe a hard fuck.
“I didn’t fully get it before,” she said softly. “Tell me more. Help me understand you better.”
She was slaying him one sweet word at a time. He didn’t even know that was possible.
“Please?” she said softly.
“I didn’t just lose my leg, Jules. I worked with the same guys for six years, and it wasn’t like going into an office and working on a project together. You eat, sleep, piss, and puke together. They breathe, you breathe. They die, you could die. There’s a sacred bond of trust that runs bone deep. It’s a brotherhood, a family. When we were in the field, I knew every one of them would lay down their lives for me, just as I’d do for them. And when the missions were over, we were there for each other. We’d all gone through hell together. I could look in my buddies’ eyes and know they were thinking about how close we’d come to being killed, or how grueling it had been working together to carry one of our injured men six miles to safety. I would give everything I have to go back out there and fight with my team. But I’m a weak link now.”
“You are not a weak link.”
“You have no idea what it takes to work for a company like Darkbird. They recruit only the best of the best. Anything less and you compromise the mission. One mistake could cost the lives of every man on your team and compromise God only knows how many other political and military actions. Darkbird doesn’t send amputees into the field, and for good reason.”