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Authors: Arianna Hart

Tags: #Military;Navy SEALs;Wounded Warrior;small town;returning hero;injuries;love;family;amputee;ptsd;son of a preacher man

Giving It All (23 page)

BOOK: Giving It All
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Chapter Twenty-Six

Ellie could barely breathe. Grant had his hand on her thigh and was teasing her sex through her underwear with his pinky. She reached over to tease him as well, but he grabbed her wrist and stopped her.

“Don’t distract the driver.” His smile gleamed in the darkness.

“If you don’t stop teasing me, I’m going to come right here, and that will be an even bigger distraction.”

It was her turn to smile as she heard his sudden intake of breath. Enjoying his reaction, she reached under her dress and pulled off the white, lace panties she wore, dropping them in his lap. They were damp with her desire for him and the musky smell filled the tiny car.

“Fuck!” he swore as he almost ran over their mailbox. He’d barely had the car parked behind the garage before he unhooked her seatbelt and hauled her across his lap. He clamped his mouth down on hers as he drove his fingers into her waiting channel.

Two strokes, it only took two strokes before she shot over the edge with an orgasm that shook her to her toes. Grant captured her gasps with his mouth as he continued to stroke her. His jaw was clenched tight, and his eyes gleamed hotly in the dimness of the car. She wanted to trace every line on his face and see it relax as he felt the same pleasure he gave her.

“Take me to bed, sailor.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She climbed off him and out of the car with shaking knees. His touch just destroyed her, and she couldn’t wait until he did it again. They ran up the stairs like a couple of kids shushing each other and laughing. They were hardly through the door when Grant pinned her against the counter and untied her dress. Her nipples immediately pebbled into hard points at the touch of the cool air. Grant groaned and captured one in his hot mouth, sucking it hard, causing an answering pull low in her womb.

Ellie arched her back, offering him her body to do with what he pleased.

“Condom, in my back pocket.”

“Pretty sure of yourself, weren’t you?” she asked, reaching around to grab the foil pack and then staying to slip her fingers under the waistband of his jeans.

“Just wanted to be prepared.”

“I love a man with a plan,” she whispered and bit his ear.

He growled and switched to her other breast while pushing the skirt of her dress high up on her thighs. Ellie unbuckled his pants and shoved them over his hips along with his boxer briefs. His cock sprung up to his belly, the head dark red and glistening.

She wanted to taste the drop that pearled at the tip, but Grant stole the condom from her and rolled it on. In seconds, he was inside her, filling her and sending her senses flying. She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist and held on while he slowly drove her crazy. He was so darn strong, he could hold her up and still while he slid in and out of her tight body. The feel of his muscles surrounding her with their steely strength made her feel weak and feminine. They were so in tune, their bodies synced at an intimate level. As the pressure built inside her, he began to pump harder, faster. Sweat trickled down his face and she licked it off, liking the saltiness of his skin.

“Fly for me,” he growled, biting her on the soft skin where her neck and shoulder joined.

Her hips bucked as the wave of desire crashed over her. Grant let out an explosive breath as he too rode that wave of ecstasy.

Their bodies were stuck together as they breathed each other in. In the background, Ellie could hear the muted bangs of the fireworks going off. Feeling loose and relaxed, she unwound her legs from Grant’s waist and snickered as her knees almost refused to hold her up.

“Let’s get a drink and sit on the balcony so we can watch the fireworks. I bought a six-pack the other day if you want a beer.”

Grant didn’t answer her. He stood still as a statue, his jaw locked tight and his eyes empty of all emotion.

“Grant? Honey? Are you okay?” He looked like he was frozen, except his breath was coming so hard and she could see his pulse fluttering in his neck like a wounded bird. “Grant? What is it?” She reached for his arm but, before she touched him, he grabbed her wrist and had her flat on the floor, his body covering hers.

“Be quiet, they’ll hear you,” he whispered, his voice harsh.

“Who? Who’ll hear us?” she asked, feeling frightened.

“Tangos. They weren’t supposed to be in these hills. Stay low.”

Oh, God, he was having a flashback. She’d read about these but couldn’t remember what to do. Was it like when someone was sleepwalking? Was she supposed to wake him up or not? His eyes glittered as he crouched over her. He seemed to be searching her apartment for something, but she knew he wasn’t seeing her plants and couch. He was miles and miles away.

“Grant. It’s me. Ellie.”

“Ellie?” His face lost some of its roughness.

“Yes, that’s right, Ellie. You’re safe. You’re home, in Dale. In my apartment. You’re safe. No one can hurt you here. I’ve got you. I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again.” Tears slipped from her eyes as she watched him struggle with demons only he could see.

She tried to reach up to stroke his face, but he grabbed her hand and yanked it down.

“Stay down! Don’t make yourself a target.” He squeezed her wrist tightly and she knew she’d have bruises tomorrow, but that didn’t matter.

“Grant, listen to me. Hear my voice. Hear me. It’s Ellie. You’re in my apartment. We just made love. Those are only fireworks. No one can hurt you. No one will hurt me either.”

She continued talking to him, saying his name and her name over and over. His heart beat so fast, she was afraid it would burst right out of his chest. The floor was hard and he was heavy, but she didn’t dare move. The fireworks continued to explode in the distance, and with each muffled boom, Grant tucked her closer to him until she was afraid he’d crush her.

Her heart ached for him, for what he’d seen and experienced. She nuzzled her nose into his chest and kept whispering reassurance to him. After what seemed like hours, she felt his body start to relax, only slightly, but he wasn’t rock hard above her.

“Grant, it’s Ellie. You’re safe, you’re okay.”

“Ellie? What?” He shook his head as if trying to clear it. “What’s happening?” His voice was thick, dull.

“I think you had a flashback.”

Awareness slowly came back into his gaze, but his pulse was still too rapid for her liking. Sweat dripped off him, smelling sour instead of clean.

“Oh my God. Why are you on the floor? Did I hurt you?”

“You were trying to protect me. I think the fireworks sounded like rockets or something. You didn’t want to let me up. You didn’t want me to get hurt.” She could see the fear in his eyes as he ran his hands over her body.

“I’m fine. You didn’t hurt me. I swear.”

He rolled off her and ran a hand through his hair. “Jesus Christ, I still have the fucking condom on.” He slid it off and got to his feet.

Ellie scrambled upright and fixed her dress. God, she was so out of her depth, she didn’t know what to do, what to say. How could she bring him back to her?

When he came out of the bathroom, she knew he’d retreated so far, he might as well be in Alabama.

“Don’t do this.”

“What?” Grant asked, his face guarded.

“Don’t pull away from me. Talk to me, tell me what you saw. Tell me what I can do. Don’t close me out,” she begged.

“I can’t. I just can’t. I have to go. Are you sure you’re all right?”

Tears flowed down her face, and she let them, refusing to make this easy for him. “I told you, you tried to protect me, not hurt me. You did nothing wrong.”

“This time. But what if I thought you were an enemy? What then? What would you do if I freaked out again and held a knife to your throat? Would you still try to protect me from my actions then?”

“You wouldn’t do that. I know you.”

“You can’t be sure of that. There are plenty of guys out there who’ve hurt wives, kids, their parents. I won’t be one of them. I love you too much to risk hurting you.”

He walked out before she could unscramble her brain from hearing him say he loved her. She ran to the door, intending to chase after him, to demand he explain that comment, to fight for him, for them. She was too late. By the time she got to the top of the stairs, he’d taken his mother’s car and pulled out of the driveway.

Ellie slumped to the porch floor. Her legs refused to hold her. Sobs wracked her body as fireworks exploded above her.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

“Mrs. Anderson? I’m returning your cookie tray,” Ellie called through the screen door. She was hoping no one was home so she could just drop the tray and run without getting into a prolonged visit. It had been two weeks since Grant had walked out on her and she hadn’t seen more than a glimpse of him getting into the car in all that time.

Thank God, she’d had work to keep her busy. It was as good an excuse as any for why she looked like forty miles of bad road. She’d lost weight she couldn’t afford to lose and had dark shadows under her eyes. Every time she tried to choke down a meal, her throat would close up and she’d end up throwing whatever it was out.

She’d known it would hurt when Grant left, but dear Lord, she’d underestimated how much. This wasn’t a simple ache of loss, this was a tearing, ripping pain as if some monster had yanked her heart out of her chest and stomped on it. She was sad and angry too, because it just wasn’t necessary.

After Founders’ Day, she’d researched everything she could find on PTSD and she knew flashbacks and nightmares were normal symptoms. Hearing the fireworks was a trigger. Now that he knew about the trigger, he could prepare for it. There was therapy and medication that could help too. It wasn’t a death sentence, why couldn’t he see that?

“Ellie? Hang on, I’m coming,” Mrs. Anderson called from the den.

Crap.

“I really can’t stay long.” Ellie tried to edge her way to the door. It was rude, but she just wasn’t up for a rehash of what was wrong with her.

“Oh, yes, you can, young lady. I know you always take the day after the tax deadline off to recover. Whatever it is you had planned can wait while you sit down and talk to me.”

“I-I, okay.” She couldn’t lie to Mrs. Anderson. Giving in to the inevitable, she sat at the kitchen table and ran her finger along the hem of the placemat.

“Now what in the Sam Hill is going on between you and Grant?”

“What has he told you?”

“Not a blessed thing. Absolutely nothing. On Founders’ Day, you two were attached at the hip and my phone rang off the hook with people telling me about Grant carrying you off the dance floor like Rhett and Scarlet. Except I’m not seeing a fairytale ending, I’m seeing Tara burning. What’s happened to make you look like a ghost and Grant so mad he could chew coal and spit fire?”

“We came back to my place after the dance. Grant heard the thuds of the fireworks and had a flashback.”

“Oh, dear. He hasn’t had one of those in a long time. We’d all thought he was done. How long did this one last?”

“I don’t know. It felt like forever, but was probably only a few minutes. Maybe five? The fireworks were still going on when he left, so it couldn’t have been that long.”

“That’s good. When he first got injured, he had them all the time and some of them lasted much longer. He talked with a psychologist at the veterans’ hospital and that seemed to help a lot.” Mrs. Anderson got up and took a bag of flour out of the cabinet. “You don’t mind if I make some cookies, do you? I think better with my hands busy.”

“That’s fine.” Ellie had no idea what to say. “When was his last flashback?”

“I don’t know. He doesn’t talk about it. I think he had a nightmare a few weeks back, because I heard a thump, but he said he’d just fallen out of bed.”

Ellie remembered that night. He’d come to her apartment and they’d made love three times.

“I don’t know what to do,” Ellie said. Tears prickled behind her eyes but she fought them back. She’d cried too much already. “I love him so much, but he won’t listen to me. He just said he didn’t want to hurt me and left. He didn’t even look back.”

“Oh, honey.” Mrs. Anderson brushed off her hands and wrapped Ellie in her soft arms. “Men can be so stubborn and honestly, just plain stupid sometimes. Don’t give up.”

“But what can I do? How can I get through to him? He won’t return my calls or texts, and I’m not going to chase him around town, I have some pride left.” Not much, but some.

“Wait him out. Give him a chance to realize how much he misses you. Right now, he’s too busy feeling noble about sacrificing you for your own good. In my experience, that will only last so long. Don’t chase him, but don’t hide out either. Make sure he sees you, knows what he’s missing. I’ll drag him out of his room and give him another talking to as well.”

“He’s in his room now?” Ellie asked with something akin to panic.

“No, don’t worry. He took Karen down to the hospital. Greg is getting discharged today, finally. She’s going to be staying with him in his apartment for a while until he gets back on his feet. Again. It seems like he goes from one crisis to another. I’d hoped he’d straightened himself out when he started working at the store instead of getting in trouble with that crowd he used to hang out with, and then he gets attacked. It’s like trouble finds him even when he’s trying to stay on the straight and narrow.”

“Do the police have any leads on who hurt him?”

“Not that they’re telling me. Grant has been meeting with the police and someone who’s a brother of one of his SEAL buddies or something. He’s been very closed mouthed about everything. I haven’t exactly pushed for information either. Having Karen here and trying to help her while keeping up with Ed’s regular schedule has been tough. I’m afraid I’ve just left everything to Grant.”

“That’s not a bad thing. You need to delegate, and he’s better at dealing with the police. You’re better at caring for Mr. Anderson and your sister-in-law. Don’t beat yourself up because you’re not doing everything yourself.”

“You’re right. I know you’re right, it’s just I—” She was cut off by the ring of the telephone. “Hold on, I need to get that, I’m expecting a call from the insurance company.”

Ellie thought about how she could put herself in Grant’s way without looking like she was stalking him. Her schedule over the last two weeks hadn’t lent itself to anything but work and short snatches of sleep, but now that the worst of tax season was over, she’d go back to a more normal schedule. Grant couldn’t hide forever. He lived across the driveway from her. Hmmm, she’d have to talk to Peter and Mel. They could probably help her brainstorm devious ways of making Grant crazy. She bet Mrs. Anderson would help too.

“That was the Canton police,” Mrs. Anderson said, interrupting Ellie’s plans.

“Oh? Did they have new information?”

“No, they just wanted to tell me that the store had been cleared of any criminal wrongdoing and can resume business. What did he mean by that?”

“Uh, I have no idea. Maybe they just meant they were done gathering evidence.” What had Grant found out?

“I don’t have any idea how we’re going to run the store without Greg and Anita. Ed is getting better all the time, but he still has physical therapy and speech therapy and doctor appointments. He can’t work in the store fulltime.”

“Grant can help, and now that things are slowing down for me, I can put in some hours too. I need to get the payroll straightened out anyway. I can do that in the office and help Anita with the online orders.” If they had any left.

“I’ll call Anita and see if she’d be willing to come back to work after everything that happened with Greg.”

“I’ll go to the office and see if I can get things organized. Why don’t you call Georgia Wholesale as well, and see if you can get a quick shipment of parts? I’ll email you a list of what is most needed and we can work from there.”

“Oh, honey, thank you. I’ll call Grant and tell him what’s going on. He can help you, and maybe when you’re working in the office together, you can use a crowbar to knock some sense into his thick skull.”

“Don’t tempt me.” Ellie laughed, feeling a sense of hope for the first time in two weeks.

“I want to do just that. Don’t give up on him, please, don’t give up on him. He and Chastity never really tried to keep their marriage together. When things got tough, she quit, and he let her. Overcoming struggles is what builds the foundation for a life together. Grant needs to know that you won’t quit on him too.”

“But what if he’s the one who quits?”

“He’s no quitter. You’ll win him over, eventually. A smack upside the head wouldn’t hurt though.”

“So there’s no evidence that he used the business to smuggle drugs?” Grant asked Tony, the Atlanta DEA agent Dingo’s brother had put him in touch with. “I don’t get it. There was money in the account when there shouldn’t have been.”

They were sitting at O’Malley’s bar, having a beer with lunch while Tony filled him in on the investigation.

“The joint taskforce has contacts in Mexico. They investigated the parts supplier there and found no drugs. There was nothing in any of the parts in your store and nothing at all in the storage container behind the store. The bean counters at the agency didn’t find any evidence of money laundering, so you’re in the clear.”

“It just doesn’t make sense. Someone wanted something from him, or they wouldn’t have beat him up and tried to kill him.”

“Only he can answer that, and he’s not talking. Maybe your accountant added the numbers wrong.”

“No. She’s smart. She might not have all the information, but she knows numbers.”

“Good luck figuring it out. I’m just glad I don’t have to set up a substation out here in no man’s land. Give me Atlanta and her gangs and drug dealers any day of the week.”

“Hell, Canton is considered the city out here.”

Tony shuddered. “Take it easy, I’m going back to civilization.” He slipped on his mirrored sunglasses and left.

Grant signaled the bartender for the check and leaned back to finish his mug of beer. There were only a handful of people at the bar, a few others like him having a late lunch and a couple of older guys were playing chess at a table by an empty stage. There was a poster advertising live music every Friday night and Grant thought Ellie might like to come here after she finished work and listen.

Fuck!

It seemed like everything he did brought him back to Ellie. He’d see a woman holding a baby and remember Ellie with baby Emily. A sign for a bake sale reminded him of when they’d gone to the library bake sale together. Shit, even the smell of cut grass reminded him of kissing her on the back lawn. His head was filled with images of her, and each one was like a knife piercing his heart.

I’m doing the right thing. She deserves better than someone who loses it when he hears firecrackers.

Why did the right thing always hurt so damn bad? He hadn’t gotten much sleep in the last two weeks. Every time he looked out his window, he could see the light on at Ellie’s place and knew she was working herself into the ground. Who would be there to make sure she had fun? Who would keep her from saying yes to everyone who asked her for a favor? Who would take care of her?

God, this sucked. She would find someone. She was beautiful and caring and smart and funny and so damn explosive in bed. There should be a line of guys waiting at her door to pick up what he’d thrown away.

It’s for her own good.

But Christ, how the thought of her with someone else hurt. His phone rang and he saw it was his mother. Feeling like an ass, he sent it to voicemail. He just couldn’t deal with her telling him what a fool he was again. He’d listen to the message before he left in case she needed something from Canton. For a second, he worried it could be about his dad, but if it was an emergency, she’d send a text too. Besides, his dad had been doing great lately. Things were going in the right direction everywhere but in his fucked-up head.

Grant paid the check and was about to leave the pub when Trevor, the former Marine he’d met at the hospital, came in.

“Hey. How’s the new dad?” Grant asked, shaking Trev’s prosthesis.

“Couldn’t be better. I just came in to show everyone the pictures of my princess and say thanks for all the cards and baby gifts. What are you doing here?”

“I had a meeting with someone, it just ended.”

“Then you have a minute? Let me buy you a beer and we can have a toast to my baby girl and to surviving hell.”

Grant sat back down at the end of the bar and waited while Trev showed off pictures to the bartender, waitress and even the two chess players. They clapped him on the back and said she was the most beautiful baby ever born. Grant thought she looked like every other newborn he’d ever seen, but he kept that to himself.

Finally, Trev sat on the bar stool next to him and ordered two beers. “Man, I’m beat. All the books tell you that newborns need to eat every few hours, but until you’re up all night with a screaming baby waiting for the bottle to heat, you can’t know what it’s like. I was so tired at one point, I put cereal in the dog dish and dog food in my bowl. Some days, there just isn’t enough coffee in the world.”

“I remember what sleep deprivation was like. I can’t imagine trying to care for a baby when you feel like that.”

“It’s not quite as bad as Hell Week. Plus, me and Becky take turns, so at least one of us is getting some sleep. I’m told it gets easier.”

“For your sake, I hope so.” Grant clinked his beer mug to Trev’s. He wanted to ask him how he did it, had a normal life, but he didn’t know how.

“Look, I know I only just met you for five seconds in the elevator, but if you don’t mind me saying, you look like shit.”

“Thanks.”

“I know that look. I’ve seen it in the mirror many times. Want to talk about it?”

“Not really.” Grant heaved out a frustrated sigh. “I haven’t had a nightmare or a flashback in six months. Six fucking months. Then I had both, bam, right on top of each other.”

“I hate that. It’s like you finally relax, thinking it’s over, you beat it, and then one of those fuckers sneaks up and sucker punches you.”

“Pretty much. I hurt someone during the flashback.”

“How bad?”

“I don’t know. When I came back to reality, she was under me and I had her pinned to the floor.”

“How’d she react?”

“She tried to defend me, said I was protecting her, even during the flashback.”

“You probably were.”

“But what if I didn’t? What if the next time it happens I snap her neck?”

“You won’t. Some part of you recognizes her and wouldn’t do that.”

BOOK: Giving It All
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