Healing A Hero (The Camerons of Tide’s Way #4) (16 page)

Chapter 29

April 2015

Camp Lejeune, North Carolina

PHILIP BURROWED his face under Elena’s hair and kissed the back of her neck. “Please say you’re going to let me stay the night. I want to fall asleep holding you like this and wake up with you still in my arms.”

She wrapped her arms over his where they circled her waist and spooned herself in until her perfect little butt pressed against his crotch. “I’m glad you aren’t the kind of guy who hates to cuddle afterward and can’t wait to be gone.”

“Never,” he murmured, hugging her a little tighter. He had been that kind of guy for the last fourteen years. He’d disappointed more than one woman who’d wanted him to stay—all night or for a lifetime. But Elena was different. He had no idea what time it was and felt too lethargic to lift his head and check the alarm clock.

But as drained as he was physically, his mind didn’t want to shut down right off. Elena’s breathing smoothed into sleep quickly, and she didn’t even stir when he cupped his hand around her breast, just because he could and because it was so temptingly close.

He’d meant to give her pleasure with his mouth and his hands. He could have made her come over and over and gotten his own gratification just watching her writhe with the intensity of it. He hadn’t meant to have unprotected sex, but once again, she’d taken things into her own hands. Literally.

It had been years since he’d come inside a woman without the protective barrier of a condom, and the sensation had blown his mind. She was slick and tight, and she’d ridden him hard, her head thrown back and her breasts thrust out, her nipples engorged and beautiful. He’d never felt anything like it. No woman he’d ever been with had been so gloriously uninhibited or so utterly satisfying.

He squeezed her breast gently, running his thumb rhythmically over the smooth round surface.

“If you got pregnant, I promise I’ll marry you,” he whispered into her hair. “Hell, I’ll marry you even if you aren’t pregnant.”

He kissed her again. “I love you, Elena Castillo. Don’t ever doubt it again.”

WHEN PHILIP WOKE, disoriented and alone, Elena was gone. It was still dark outside. He peered at the watch on his wrist, swore, and jumped from the bed.

He was due at his desk in twenty minutes. Barely time to drive from here to there, never mind stop at his quarters and scramble into a uniform.

He found his clothes folded neatly on a chair, and began pulling them on. Elena appeared in the doorway holding a traveling mug in one hand and a small bag in the other.

He shoved his feet into his shoes without untying them. Then he straightened and crossed the room.

He pulled Elena into a hug. “I wish yesterday was Saturday,” he muttered before he kissed her upturned face. “Then we could do Sunday all over again.”

She freed herself from his embrace and handed him the mug. “I was going to wake you up, but I made you coffee and some muffins and let you get a few extra winks instead.” She pressed the bag into his other hand.

“Thanks.”

They stood by the bedroom door a little awkwardly, neither sure what to do next.

“I’ve still got an appointment with my therapist this afternoon. Right?” he asked. Maybe she would confess to her boss and get him reassigned.

She nodded. “Of course. It says Gunny right there next to four o’clock.”

With his hands full, he couldn’t hug her again. Which was probably a good thing because he had to be gone, and hugging her might lead to other things. He kissed her instead. “Can I take you out for dinner afterward?”

“I thought I’d fix you dinner here.” She looked shy and uncertain. Elena was not a shy sort of person and this new diffidence filled him with a feeling of protectiveness.

“I’d like that.”

She turned and led the way out of the bedroom. “You’d better hurry. You’ll be late and Captain Clueless will give you a bad fitrep.”

“Ah, Elena, I don’t deserve you.”

Her expression clouded, but he didn’t have time to ask why. Tonight, they would talk about their future. Tonight over dinner. Followed by more mind-blowing sex. Tonight, he’d remember to set the alarm on his phone so tomorrow morning wouldn’t be this hurried.

Tonight, he’d propose to her while she was awake. His heart jerked at that thought. Apprehension? Maybe she didn’t want marriage. Maybe this uninhibited week of sex while her daughter was away was all she wanted from him.

He kissed her again, taking his time in spite of his need to be gone. He loved her, and he intended to make up for lost time, starting now. She had to give him a second chance.

Elena pulled back first and opened the door for him.

If only he could blow off the Captain and the stack of work on his desk.

“See you at four,” he said, reluctantly stepping out onto her porch. Then he bolted for his borrowed car and the responsibilities that awaited him.

HURRYING INTO THE Physical Therapy department after an appointment at the hospital that had gone longer than expected, Elena was running late for Philip’s session. Julie would be admonishing her about her tardiness, but Philip seemed to take it in stride.

She expected to find him sitting on the bench, shirt off and waiting patiently for her. But he wasn’t. She dropped her jacket and the folder she’d brought back in the office and returned to the therapy room. She stopped when she saw him.

He squatted in front of a man in a wheelchair, speaking earnestly, gesturing with one hand. His other hand rested on the arm of the wounded Marine’s wheelchair. The man slumped in his chair, his chin nearly touching his chest, but now and then, he lifted his head and nodded slightly at something Philip said. The other Marine was not one of Elena’s patients, but she knew him. He’d been spiraling into depression, and his apathy had begun to impact his treatment.

Philip stood and bent to give the other man a hug. They slapped each other’s back a few times before Philip gripped the man’s shoulder for a moment and turned away. He caught her watching and came toward her.

“Is he a friend of yours?”

She felt suddenly shy and a little awkward. Did what had happened last night show on their faces? Or in their posture? Could anyone looking at them guess they’d been naked and passionate just a few hours ago?

“One of my boys,” Philip answered briefly. He sank onto the bench and looked at her, his eyes almost level with hers. “He’s having a tough time getting accustomed to the prosthesis. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” She did feel fine. A little embarrassed, maybe. Okay, a lot embarrassed. She’d invited him in and there hadn’t been any doubt about what she wanted from him. And now they were back to being therapist and patient, and it felt awkward. “Mark’s lucky. He’s got the best they make.” She tried to divert her thoughts into safer waters.

“He doesn’t feel very lucky,” Philip growled.

Elena sat down on the rolling stool and looked up at him. She wanted to touch him, put her hands on his knees and make contact, but she didn’t dare. She didn’t trust herself.

“That’s what the shrinks always tell them,” Philip went on. “They’re alive. Some guys don’t make it back at all. They have the best care in the world. You name it, the shrinks all see the positive stuff and they don’t really get the other stuff.”

“What do you mean, they don’t
get
it?”

Philip didn’t seem to have any problem leaving what had happened between them the night before outside the PT room. He seemed completely focused on Mark and his issues. She, on the other hand, almost vibrated with the tension his closeness caused.

“The problem is that when guys with boots on the ground are getting shot at and blown up, the shrinks are studying in safe places a long way from the war. Guys that have been there don’t always trust them because they’re convinced the doctor can never really understand,” he explained.

Philip sounded a lot like Meg. It was a fraternity they both belonged to and she didn’t. “But there are some really good doctors who care a lot. They can’t help if they haven’t seen combat. But they can still make a difference.”

Philip relaxed his defensive posture. “There are good shrinks. But the good ones don’t keep on about how good a guy’s got it. They just listen. They’re patient and they’re good at asking the right questions and letting the guy figure it out for himself.”

Elena wondered if Philip had ever seen a counselor.

“The doctor Mark is seeing . . .” Philip jerked his head in the direction of the place where the man in the wheelchair had been sitting moments ago, “just keeps telling Mark he needs to focus on what he does have instead of what he lost. But that’s a little hard to do when the bastards blew both Mark’s legs off and left him impotent, and then his wife leaves him because she wants to get pregnant and he can’t get it up.”

“But she is pregnant. I saw her here just a couple of weeks ago. She was definitely pregnant.”

“Not by Mark.” Philip bit the words out. “He wanted kids as much as she did. He’d have let the world think the baby was his and pretended her infidelity didn’t hurt, but now she wants a divorce, too.”

“Oh, Philip.” Elena’s heart broke for the man. She’d watched the woman caressing the barely noticeable belly bump with a satisfied look on her face, but she’d assumed they had successfully navigated the tortuous route of IVF. For a woman to turn her back on a man she’d promised to stick by in sickness and health the moment he needed her most was despicable.

Philip planted his palms on the bench and pushed himself to his feet. “Mark isn’t going to off himself tonight. He’s over that hump for now. So let’s get my workout done and get out of here. Get that gadget out . . . the one you measure strength with. I’ve been exercising with a tennis ball, and I want to show you how good I’m getting. Then we can get this session over with and blow this place.” He winked.

Elena didn’t argue. The thought of Corporal Dickey even considering suicide would probably come back to haunt her later, but at the moment, the promise of spending another night with Philip precluded worrying about a man she could do nothing to help. She’d mention Philip’s insinuation to Rob Cullen when she got a chance, but right now, her job was Philip and what she
could
do for him.

She hurried into the office and pulled open the drawer to retrieve the
gadget
he’d referred to.

“Were you and the Gunny talking about my patient?” Rob Cullen sat back with his feet on his desk reading a recent copy of
Advance
.

“We were,” Elena agreed. She hadn’t expected to run into Rob so soon, and she felt color rush into her cheeks as the realization that he’d been watching her and Philip sank in.

“Anything positive?”

Apparently their extracurricular activities didn’t show. Thank God! “Depends on what you call positive. Philip said Mark wasn’t going to commit suicide tonight. But I guess he’s pretty depressed. His wife left him. Did you know that?”

Rob dropped his feet to the floor and set the magazine down. “I didn’t.”

“She’s pregnant. But it’s not Mark’s baby.”

“Christ! What’s wrong with women? A man goes off to fight for his country and they can’t wait to jump into some other guy’s bed?”

“Well, she didn’t do it before she discovered his condition.”
Why on earth am I defending the woman?
“He was one of Philip’s men. Maybe I can ask him to keep an eye on Cpl. Dickey. Reach out to him and, you know, help him out of his funk, maybe.”

“If the Gunny can get through to him, it will be more than Dr. Trebow or I have managed. Ask him. It can’t hurt.” Rob picked up the magazine and found his place. “Thanks for filling me in. It’s good information to have.”

As she crossed the room to get to work with Philip, she considered his reaction to being roped in to helping Mark Dickey. Philip was eager to get back in action himself. More than eager. He chafed at being ashore, as he called it. But he’d been there, done that. He understood, and maybe Mark Dickey would respond to that.

In the meantime, she had a therapy session to get through all the while pretending that nothing else was going on.

Chapter 30

April 2015

Camp Lejeune, North Carolina

ELENA CURLED AGAINST Philip’s side with her head nestled in the hollow of his shoulder. Her little scented candles still flickered on the bedside table, creating patterns of light on the ceiling. He trailed his fingers absently over her warm bare flesh and sighed.

These moments of quiet contentment in the aftermath of lovemaking were something they’d not shared fourteen years earlier. Then, they’d both been a lot younger, and they’d humped like rabbits until they fell asleep out of sheer exhaustion. Woke up and did it all over again. Things were different now. Sweeter and more mellow. He kissed the top of her head.

They’d discussed a number of random topics. Dave Calloway’s art, Captain Clueless, and the construction of a new resort in Tide’s Way. He should be asking her how she was going to explain the change in their relationship to Julie. His sleepovers wouldn’t go unnoticed if they continued as they had the last couple of days. But still lurking in the back of his mind was the distressing possibility that this week was a gift that wouldn’t be repeated any time soon. The idea made his heart ache. Made his groin ache too. He hadn’t found the courage to bring up the idea of marriage while she was awake and might turn him down.

Maybe the no would be all tied up in her being his therapist. But just maybe she would say no regardless.

Elena played with the cross and dog tags resting on his chest. Then she drew a line downward over his abs and flattened her hand on his stomach.

“Do you ever think about your men getting their lives back together?”

Her question, totally unconnected to anything they’d been talking about before, and definitely a long way from sex and marriage, took him by surprise.

“I’m not sure what you’re asking.”

“I mean, do you worry about them. Like when they’re depressed or . . . you know . . . when they have nightmares and PTSD and such?”

“Worry doesn’t do much to help anyone.”
Where is she headed with this question?

“But do you ever do anything about it? Anything to help them cope?”

“Of course. When I can. They’re my boys.”

She lifted her head and looked at him. Her dark eyes glimmered seductively in the light from the candles. His groin stirred in response. “They’re hardly boys.”

He pulled her face down so he could kiss her. He should have been tapped out sexually, but he couldn’t get enough of touching her and kissing her. And his anatomy seemed willing. She responded as if she, too, was trying to make up for lost time. By the time she drew away and settled her head back onto his shoulder, he was hard again.

“Why do you call them boys?” She slid her hand a little lower.

“They make me feel ancient.” She made him feel like a teenager again.

“Maybe you’re a little old to be playing cowboys and Indians.”

He was too aroused to take offense. It wasn’t her fault she could never understand the addictive pull of combat, the satisfaction of an op that turned out as planned, or the intense bond with those who fought at your side.

“I’m not too old until I can’t keep up, and I start being a liability.” He flexed his injured hand. That time might be sooner than he’d like, but he believed in his heart it was not now.

“So, what about Mark Dickey? He’s one of your boys. Are you going to help him?”

“What do you think I can do, exactly?” He rolled to face her and put one hand on her hip, pulling her body firmly against his erection.

Her breathing quickened, but she wasn’t deterred from her subject. “You could help him get past his wife’s infidelity, maybe? And give him something to hope for beyond being a Marine?”

“I haven’t figured that out for myself yet. How am I supposed to help a man who’s lost his legs create a new purpose in life?”

“He must be good at something besides shooting a rifle.” Elena pushed herself up and sat cross-legged to face him. “Same as you.”

Frustrated, he rolled onto his back. “But I am very good at shooting a rifle. I—” He’d had this discussion with various members of his family both before and after 9/11. “The Marines is who I am.”

“It’s only part of who you are,” she insisted. “You’re good at languages. You’re fluent in three that I know of. You could be a teacher.”

“Me? Stuck in a classroom all day? Are you kidding?” There was no adrenaline rush in teaching. Any more than there was in slaving away at a desk deciphering endless tidbits of intelligence. He was used to being active. Out of doors. On the hunt. Getting stuff done.

“Well, I think you’d be good at it. And you wouldn’t have to spend months deployed on the other side of the world.”

“Is that what you’d like from me?” His arousal was dissipating rapidly.

She flopped back down and rolled onto her side. “I’d like to know you’ll be around for a while this time.”

He turned to face her again. He touched her face, drawing the tip of his finger from her temple down to her chin. “Is there going to be a
this time
for us?” The question he’d been afraid to ask.

She stared at him silently for a long moment. She reached out to touch the dog tags dangling across his chest, then drew her finger slowly around the circumference of one tag. “It scares me.”

“What scares you? Us reconnecting?”

“I’m afraid of letting myself care and then losing you all over again.”

He scooped her into his chest and buried his face in her hair. “You never lost me in the first place. We just let ourselves get separated by circumstance. It won’t happen again. I won’t let it.”

“You might not be able to prevent it. Not if you stay in the Marines.”

So, there it is. She wants a future with me, but she wants me out of the Marines. Can I sacrifice everything I’ve ever been? Why should I have to? Most of my buddies have wives. They make it work. So can I. Elena just has to realize that being a Marine is who I am
.

He tipped her face up to his and kissed her. “We’ll find a way to make it work, Elena. Just don’t give up on me this time.”

ELENA SAT IN the courtyard outside the physical therapy department, thinking about Philip and the conversation they’d had after making love the night before. He seemed to want a future with her, but not one that didn’t include being a Marine. He was a warrior, and that’s all he could see for himself.

She should have known he’d react that way. His determination to get his hand rehabbed and get back into the action had never been a secret. To her, it seemed logical that any man with as many years in as Philip had would welcome a medical discharge and a full pension with a chance to try another career. But Philip wasn’t most men.

He had blinders on when it came to his future.

Maybe she should have told him about Julie.

No maybe about it
.

She should definitely have told him about Julie. Maybe if he knew he had a daughter, his attitude would be different.

Except, now that she knew about Tommy, confessing the truth about their baby, the baby Philip never knew he had was going to be terrifyingly difficult. He’d relinquished his rights to a son he’d loved because he’d felt that Lawrence’s claim was stronger. And that Holly’s lies had been unforgiveable.

If he’d never forgiven Holly, what chance did she have that he’d forgive her?

He would be furious with her for not telling him he’d gotten her pregnant. Even after she’d married Eli, she still could have let Philip know about Julie.

He would have every right to be angry. And hurt beyond repair. She’d cheated him out of all the years of Julie’s babyhood, childhood, and most of her growing up.

The ringing of her cell phone jerked her back to her surroundings. Julie’s smiling face bloomed on the front of her phone. She pressed answer.

“Julie. How’s it going?”

“Fantabulous, Mom. Dad took me to eat at this awesome new restaurant, and last night we went to a Padres game. I spent the whole day at the beach with Vicky, Steph, and Lucy, and tonight we’re going to a party at Steph’s house. Dad is taking us all to Old Town on Saturday. I wanted to go to Little Tijuana and see if I could make a few deals, but I don’t have my birth certificate so we decided on Old Town instead,” Julie gushed with excitement.

“Sounds like you’re having a great vacation,” Elena responded with a sinking feeling in her gut. Julie had never seen her own birth certificate. For good reason. Or what Elena had thought was a good reason until now.

“I might even have to get a new duffle bag if I get more stuff on Saturday. I already have one new dress. The restaurant was kinda fancy, and I didn’t have anything nice enough. Dad got me shoes to match it, too. Besides that, Dad gave me a box of things you left behind. He was fixing up his guest room, and he found this box stashed in the closet.”

“Well, don’t go buying a new suitcase just for my old junk. If I haven’t missed it by now, I probably don’t need it.” No point in commenting on Eli lavishing gifts and outings on Julie. He had always been generous with her. Too generous sometimes. Like buying her all the latest fads that kids always seemed to want, then wore once and relegated to the back of the closet.

“Not to worry, Mom.” Julie launched into a lengthy recital of her day at the beach and what all her old friends had been up to since she moved east. Elena listened and made appropriate sounds here and there.

“I miss you,” Julie said suddenly in a much quieter voice.

“I miss you, too.” If it hadn’t been for Philip absorbing all her free time, Elena would have been lost without Julie around. They’d never been apart for more than a single night sleepover in Julie’s whole life.

“Don’t forget to pick me up at the airport.”

“As if!”

“Well, bye. I’ve gotta run. Dad’s waiting to take me over to Steph’s. Love you.”

“Love you, too. Say hi to your—your dad for me. I’ll see you Sunday.”

Elena turned off her phone and shoved it back into her pocket.

How was she going to tell Julie about Philip?

Fresh from a week with Eli, Julie wasn’t likely to be too receptive to the change in her mother’s relationship with another man. Especially when Philip showed up at the breakfast table with his hair still tousled and a day’s growth of beard on his cheeks.

Sleeping with a man she didn’t have some kind of an understanding with wasn’t the sort of example she should be setting for her daughter. But neither could she face not making the most of every moment with Philip for however long he remained at Lejeune.

She dropped her face into her hands and pressed her palms into her eyes. These last few days had passed so quickly. Too quickly. Philip made her feel alive and sexy and . . .

And in love.

How could she give that up?