Redeeming Her SEAL (ASSIGNMENT: Caribbean Nights Book 9) (16 page)

“N
o,” Charlie ground out through his suddenly numb throat as if denial would magically make the truth not be true, and then he couldn’t speak at all as he processed both that her brother was gone and that he was in the throes of a flashback that could end in a very ugly place.

He swallowed. And again. Her scent bled through him, and her body centered him. He had to get a grip. For Audra. She did not need his own crap interfering with her grief.

Dear God. He’d wondered at the kid’s notable absence, but never would he have imagined the explanation would be so… horrible.

“When?” he asked.

“Right before you came back,” she whispered, her voice as broken as Charlie’s.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” And how would she have? Osmosis? Carrier pigeon? He’d been the one to cut off communication, refusing to respond to her notes and texts after he’d told her sayonara. Why the hell would she have sought him out? “I can answer that for myself. Forget I asked.”

But what should he ask? The questions filtering through his brain sounded more like a cross-examination than support, and his confusion would just add weight to her already-shaking shoulders. He didn’t know how to do this.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

He gathered her close and let her sob on his shirt as long as she wanted to while he stroked her hair and murmured what he hoped she’d take as soothing sounds, but God knew what he was saying. His spine was vibrating with the effort it took to hold back the shakes which usually tore him apart when he had flashbacks. Images wheeled through his mind’s eye, and the jumble of his thoughts warred with the spike through his gut as he imagined her dealing with such a huge loss on her own.

But she hadn’t been alone, he realized. Someone with a keen nose for vulnerability had sniffed out a woman in emotional crisis and taken complete advantage of her.

Truth had many forms. Something shifted in his chest, and it was monumental.

She’d turned to someone other than him because he’d removed himself from the equation. As he should have. She’d needed him, and he would not have been in any shape to hold her hand through that kind of devastation. All of his anger about the situation had been directed at the wrong person. It was
his fault
. His and Anderson’s.

Anderson’s treachery had greater implications than Charlie would have ever guessed. The man needed to be taken down a few pegs. Answer for his crimes. This merry-go-round had gone on long enough.

As he lay there in the dark with Audra while she processed her grief, his own frustrations welled in his chest until he almost choked on it. God, he wanted to just erase everything that had happened since the moment he’d walked away from her two years ago. What an impossible cycle of destruction had occurred since then.

But the damage was done—even more so than he’d ever imagined. Even more impossible than erasing the last two years? Fully embracing the do-over she’d seemed determined to instigate back on the beach at Duchess Island. But he yearned for that too, perhaps even more than a magic eraser.

After an eternity of mutual misery, she quieted to the point where he thought she might not mind if he spoke. “That’s when Anderson happened. After… Isaac.”

“Yeah.” She sniffled. “I wanted
you
. But you told me to get lost—”

“I know. My fault.” More truth, and it wrenched at his heart, drawing blood as it twisted mercilessly. “Blame on this side too.”

When he’d cut her loose, he’d fully believed it was best for her. Still did, especially given the iron will he was exerting at this moment to keep his symptoms in check. But she’d just opened up a whole world of consequences that he hadn’t intended nor could have possibly foreseen. He owed her an explanation for why he’d forced her to deal with Isaac’s death without him. He owed her a
mea culpa
and a window into his soul where the pain lived so she’d have some measure of compassion for the necessity of what he’d done.

But if he did that, she might forgive him, and he didn’t deserve that. His sins could never be absolved; neither did he want them to be. Some mistakes warranted a trip through purgatory, and he’d never try to shirk due punishment. Sometimes doing the right thing chaffed, like running a boat against the wake.

“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. “For… everything.”

It didn’t fix anything, but she didn’t seem to care that it was lame and ineffectual, snuggling back into his arms even deeper when he would have sworn she was already as close as she could be.

“I’m glad you’re here now,” she said with so much grace that he reached for it, desperate for something to soothe the flow of pain.

“I am.”

That wasn’t so hard to say. And it felt every bit like fragile steps toward a new beginning they’d sought but couldn’t figure out how to navigate. He still had no idea how to deal with the triggers and the nightmares and the blackness inside he’d tried to keep her insulated from. But he did know he couldn’t walk away from her now under any circumstances.

“I’m here,” he said, but with conviction, and kissed her temple. “I’m not going anywhere.”

It was a vow he intended to keep. She’d needed him, and he hadn’t been here. But he could be here now.
No promises
had led to a world of hurt. Maybe instead he could man up and try doing what he did best—the right thing. No matter how much he had to suffer to make it up to her.

“Does that mean what I think it does?” she asked cautiously as if she’d heard something in a foreign language that she didn’t quite understand.

He smiled, shocked that he was able to. And even more shocked that the lightness inside felt a lot like happiness. That was one hell of a foreign language, all right.

“It means we’re going to talk all night long because we have to make up for lost time. But that’s just tonight,” he murmured, still completely cognizant of her bruise. This evening was about reconnecting spiritually, and he wasn’t ashamed to say that he craved that as much or more as their stalled physical reconnection. “Later, I’m going to take you on dates full of romance. I’m going to undress you, love every inch of your body, and make you come. A lot. In as many different ways as I can think of.”

She shuddered. “And we have to wait for that part because why?”

“Because you need to rest,” he said sternly, and yeah, half of that admonition was directed at his own body, which had perked up considerably at all the naked talk. “And because I want to do this right.”

She deserved more than he could give her. But that wasn’t going to stop him from trying, which he’d probably screw up since that seemed to be how he rolled lately.

“Yes, I definitely recall that you have a tendency to do it wrong.” The sarcasm fairly dripped off her tongue.

“Give me a break. I’m hopping on board with your request.” Tenderly, he threaded fingers through her hair because he wanted to and because he could. The wash of emotion beating through his breastbone made it all the sweeter. “I can’t avoid the jumping-into-bed part now that I’m here and you feel so good against me. But I seriously plan to spend the evening talking. Because I want to. I missed you.”

“Oh, God, I missed you too.” She snuggled deeper into his arms. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Isaac sooner. But I was so mad at you for breaking things off and then refusing to respond when all I wanted was to understand.”

That was his cue to talk about what had happened. The villagers. The carnage. Evan. But all at once, his throat closed and the do-over jumped the tracks.

Audra listened to Charlie’s erratic breathing and tried not to panic.

She should have kept her mouth shut. But why? Wasn’t this the turning point where they didn’t have to pull the conversational punches any longer? Whatever had been holding them apart had vanished. Everything felt new. Fresh. Shiny and full of possibilities, simply because she’d finally opened her mouth and started talking.

Charlie’s arms snugged around her keeping her warm. She’d been so cold. For so long. It was nearly miraculous how the sheer body heat of this gorgeous, solid man had thawed out her frozen soul. Or at least that was what had been happening until she’d brought up the reason she’d spent over a year without him.

Her second chance was falling off a cliff, and there was no way in hell she’d let it. If nothing else, she’d leap off after it.

“Charlie? What’s wrong?” She stroked his arm where it lay tight against her abdomen.

“Nothing,” he mumbled, but his chest rose and fell against her back as he breathed. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to sense the quicker-than-normal cadence.

“Don’t do that. We just spent a year not talking. I’m here too. Here, in the moment, opening myself up to you.”

Telling him about Isaac… it had shredded what little of her heart remained. But then he’d quietly restored it fiber by fiber as he held her while she cried. She wouldn’t have asked it of him, but no words had been necessary in the end anyway. His shoulder had already been under her head, supporting her, infusing her with strength. Exactly as she’d envisioned would be the case.

“I want to know what happened. In Iraq,” she whispered.

Once she’d convinced herself he’d found someone else, which had made it so much easier to be with Jared. But she didn’t think that’s what had happened. Not now, not after the small subtle clues he’d been dropping. And he owed her the truth if they were ever going to move their relationship forward.

And she wanted that. So badly. She wanted to open her heart to him, knowing that he was doing the same.

“My guys call me the Saint,” he murmured after a long enough pause that she felt the significance of the fact that he’d spoken at all. “It’s common for SEALs to have nicknames, but usually they’re a product of screw-ups or a particular talent. Mine is because I do the right thing. Always.”

Yeah, that totally gelled with the person he was under his skin. He’d jumped in a boat to come check on her after deciding they were done. Thank God he had too, or they’d never have taken these baby steps forward.

“I was never confused about whether you were a good guy, Charlie.”

“Doing the right thing doesn’t make me a good guy,” he corrected her, and his tone hadn’t changed but the words were harsh nonetheless. “What happened while I was in Iraq isn’t something I can discuss. The only thing you need to understand is that I was in a bad place and made what I thought was the best decision at the time. I hurt you, and I’m sorry. But I can’t promise that I won’t do it again.”

Her pulse went into a freefall. “What are you saying, that you’re not going to tell me why you sent that text message?”

Not only that, he was basically telling her that she still couldn’t trust him not to break her heart again.

“I can’t.” Short. Devastating.

Because he refused to or was it classified? He’d warned her that being the girlfriend of a SEAL had unusual stresses and difficulties. At the time, she’d thought she’d fit the bill, because independent was her middle name. But that had been before the foreign quality known as neediness had walloped her from out of nowhere.

“Enough with this conversation,” he growled, and she shut her eyes.

Her relationship with Charlie still teetered precariously. Even now. No longer were they clinging to the edge where all it would take was one small rock to slip under their feet and they’d cascade into the abyss. But in reality, they’d only backed away from the cliff a couple of steps.

This was her opportunity to be there for Charlie the way he’d just been there for her, no questions asked. If he couldn’t talk about Iraq, fine. They’d avoid that subject. And Jared too, at least until all of the problems Jared had caused were resolved—which was easier said than done.

So the choices were to forget the past and move on with what Charlie could give her. Or cling to the past and move on without Charlie. Seemed like a no-brainer to her.

Was she strong and independent or what? This was where the rubber met the road. Either she needed a crutch or she didn’t. Perfect opportunity to prove that no matter what happened with Charlie, she would be okay on her own this time.

“Can we forget about the next round of ice and just get into bed?” she asked, desperate to change the tone back to one she liked.

“We’re in bed.” The amusement in the comment warmed her because he at least seemed willing to let her change the subject and wasn’t going to disappear just because she’d pushed him into a place he didn’t want to go.

“We’re
on
the bed. I want to get under the covers and sleep. With you. All night long.” If he held on to her, everything would be okay. In the morning, they’d be together, and that was enough for now.

“I could do that.”

He helped her strip down to her panties and slide on a tank top, strictly by feel alone, and she gained a new appreciation for just how strong his will was, because the simple brush of his fingers on her skin put a hitch in her lungs and a slow burn everywhere else. Didn’t he feel it too? Or was she that resistible all at once?

He got her resettled and shed his own clothes, then climbed back into place, spooning her up against his mostly bare body. She could feel the fabric of his briefs against her butt… among other things. The stiff erection was nice too. Yeah, he was not so unaffected by her proximity after all. She resisted wiggling against him because that would be torturous for her too. And she hadn’t been expecting him, so she hadn’t made any recent trips to the drug store.