Vivid (13 page)

Grace was right, I needed to cut it soon.

My ears perked when I heard footsteps to my right, the side where Grace's room was. Suddenly, the dizziness disappeared and all that blood in my head went straight down. I could still feel her breath on my lips and knew if I could go back to that moment in the bathroom, I would do the same thing all over again. Only, I wouldn't hesitate.

"You look very handsome, Merrick."

The air in my lungs rushed out with relief and my eyes closed. At least she was still speaking to me. At least she was still keeping her window open. I didn't know what I would have done if it was winter instead of summer.

"Thank you, Grace."

"You aren't going to throw up are you? Because I don't think that would impress your CO very much."

I chuckled and tugged at my hair again. When I opened my eyes, the laugh died. After all this time, I still expected to see
something
when I opened them. The disappointment was always so powerful.

"Will you come over?" I asked, licking my dry lips and praying to God she said yes.

"For dinner? With the guy who just the thought of is making you look like you could run on a broken leg? Umm, let me think about that."

I heard the smile in her voice and it felt good to be teased about it. Grace was an expert in sarcasm, but she was never impolite.

"He doesn't bite, I promise."

Her laugh sent a shiver down my spine. "I'm sure he doesn't, but I still don't understand why you want me there. You're a tough guy. You got this, Merrick."

If she only knew. I wasn't tough anymore. In fact, I felt like a helpless child most of the time. I felt fear every morning I woke and fear every night I fell asleep. But with her, I felt like myself. Like I could move on with my life and look forward to the future. Then she went home each night and the reminder that she probably wouldn't be in that future, haunted me.

"Regardless, I have plans tonight," she added, making my stomach drop.

"Oh, what plans?" I shook my head. I shouldn't have asked but couldn't help myself. If she had a date, it was none of my business.

None. Of. My. Business.

"I'm not supposed to tell anyone, but if you can keep a secret ..."

"Who am I going to tell?"

She didn't laugh, even though I meant it as a joke.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway and I knew it was time to see Bowman. I wouldn't make it through the night if I was picturing Grace on a date with some asshole that didn't deserve her. "Now or never, Grace," I stated, thickly.

"Josh is asking Keara to marry him. I'm helping him look for a ring tonight."

The relief was immense.

It was like that first step on American soil after months in the dust and rubble. Taking that first step off the plane at Dallas Fort Worth for my visit home. Feeling that small sense of peace, knowing I wasn't in danger. That my friends were safe as well. The worry was always there, but there's just something about knowing, feeling the stillness in the air even with a crowd surrounding me. That crowd welcomed soldiers home all the time with a reception as far as the eye could see. Almost like a parade, lined up with smiling faces.

I'll never forget that feeling. That serenity.

"Good."

It was all I could say. Grace stayed silent and the sound of my door opening, cut through the room.

"Captain Bowman is here, son." Dad sounded nervous enough for the both of us. He heard the stories, and if Bowman still looked anything like he did before, I could pretty much guarantee Dad was intimidated.

"Good luck, Merrick," Grace said, quietly.

I wanted her with me, to somehow ground me and remind me to be polite, but she wasn't going to be able to hold my hand through this.

"Is that you, Grace?" Dad said, stepping in front of me.

"Hi, Mr. Thatcher."

"Well, look at you. I haven't seen you since you've been home, but Emma told me you were all grown up. Little Grace Samuelson, you're a beautiful woman, my dear."

"Thank you, Mr. Thatcher."

"You call me Nathan. Thank you for helping my boy out, he seems a whole hell of a lot happier since you started bossing him around."

"I'm glad to hear it," Grace replied with a chuckle. Her shyness spoke volumes even though I couldn't see her.

I smiled, picturing Grace's blush. Would it travel down her neck and arms? Would I be able to feel the heat of it if she was standing next to me?

"We'll see you soon, Grace," Dad called.

"Have a good night. And Merrick?"

"Yeah?"

"You got this."

I sighed. Would the hope of seeing her face, ever go away? I could feel the comfort in her words, but seeing it would be a completely different thing.

I rolled my chair out of the room with Dad following behind me. The captain's booming voice was coming from the kitchen. I guided myself with a hand on the wall and my good foot on the ground. It was getting easier and easier to keep the chair steady. Crutches would come as soon as I finally perfected this shit, I just knew it.

"Dad, will you please hold onto the chair when we get to the kitchen?" I asked, knowing he was itching to help me out somehow.

"Sure, son. But why?"

I didn't respond because I didn't want him to try to talk me out of it.

"There he is," Mom said.

"Merrick, you look good, boy. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were faking all those injuries of yours," Bowman said.

I grinned because I didn't expect anything else from the man. Most guys didn't have the kind of relationship with their CO that allowed them to poke fun at each other. Most of the time, the only thing you talked about was orders and respect.

"Sir, not faking, just milking it out a bit."

His booming laugh made the wheelchair rattle. "Sounds about right. It's good to see you, Thatcher."

I braced both my hands on the arms of the chair and used my good leg to raise myself up and out of it. Dad was there, holding the chair steady so it wouldn't roll away from me. Once I was standing, my left leg stiff and pulsing when my foot touched the ground, I saluted my captain. I wouldn't see his return, but I knew he would give it.

Respect.

If I had lost everything else, at least I tried to come back with a little bit of that.

"Merrick." My mother's gasp was quickly silenced and I felt my father's movement from behind. He must have given her the not-now gesture. I would have to thank him for that later.

"I would love to shake your hand, son," Bowman said from right in front of me and I raised my right hand to offer it to him. The feel of his warm hand in mine was a surprise and a shock. How long had it been since I'd shook a man's hand? Since
I'd
touched anyone?

"You'll get through this better than any other man possibly could, Thatcher. I know it. I feel it. I see it in you and so do you. Don't give up on that."

The captain's firm words hit me deep. I did know it. I just needed a reminder here and there.

"Let's eat, shall we?" Dad said, his voice thicker than normal. God, I hoped he wasn't getting emotional. That would ruin all my preparation for the night.

I found my way back into my chair and felt my father's hand on my shoulder, squeezing tightly with support.

I may not be able to see it, but I could feel it.

Hope.

I had hope.

And damn if the only thing I could think about was that I wished Grace would have been there to feel it right along with me.

Grace

Merrick seemed different after that dinner with his superior. I hoped it would stick and so far it had. Two weeks went by and his progress was insanely fast. The strength he still had in his muscles helped to counteract the weakness in others. His therapy was smooth, and half the time I didn't even really need to be there.

His hand was doing remarkably well. Once he finally got enough strength back in his grip, he was switched to crutches with mild weight bearing. Some of the grumpiness returned for a day or two, but he still seemed lighter than he'd been in the beginning.

"Fuck!"

Well, most of the time.

"How the hell am I supposed to use these if they keep rubbing my armpits raw?"

I held back the chuckle because I had already discussed this issue with him. He swore he could use them without a 'stupid kitchen towel' wrapped around the top of them. He was beginning to realize that he was wrong. Especially since he would need them for a while.

"Do you need any help?" I called from the kitchen.

He showered and dressed by himself like he'd been doing for weeks already. Every time he finished, I could hear the deep sigh of relief coming from his bedroom. It took a long time, but he could do it. That sigh hadn't come today. Not yet.

"No, I'm good. I just ... ah, shit!"

The sound of his painful hiss made my feet move. I scurried into his bedroom only to find that he hadn't dressed himself, except for his boxer briefs, and he was standing in front of his bed with one crutch, looking like a God. I'd pretty much seen him naked a few times in the beginning, but it was all so clinical that I never truly noticed how ripped the man actually was.

Those abs could seriously cut some glass and his chest was chiseled and hard. Glorious. The scars did absolutely nothing to distract from his beauty. They were there, visible and many, but
'there'
is all they ever really were.

"Are you still here?" he asked, his eyes pointed straight ahead at the wall beside me.

I cleared my throat and shifted on my feet. How long was I staring? "Yeah, are you okay?"

His lips tugged into a grin, "Why were you so quiet? I wasn't sure if you left when you saw me naked."

"You aren't n-naked."

"I'm not?"

"No?" Why did it have to come out as a question?

"Are you sure?" he smiled. Those teeth were so straight and added so much to the already panty-dropping smile he was shooting my way.

I took another look, slowly grazing my eyes down his body. Just to be sure.

"Yes."

"So, why were you staring at me? I know it isn't because of the scars. You've told me they don't bother you. Were you lying?" He seemed amused, but the question was certainly serious.

"No, I wasn't lying. They don't bother me."

"So?"

"So, what?"

He sighed and shook his head. "Why were you staring at me?"

"I wasn't."

He laughed.

The man actually laughed. And not the chuckle that he graced all of us with now and then. No, this was a full on slap-your-knee-stomach-clenching laugh. The sound of it speared straight into my chest, swirled around a few times then changed its course downward.

God, it was a sexy laugh. Deep and rough. Sultry enough to send vibrations down into my feet.

He needed to laugh more. For the lives of all available women in the world, he needed to laugh just to keep their hearts thumping.

"Grace. Were you checking me out?"

I blinked several times before I processed what he just asked me. "What? No! I mean, yes. I mean ... damn it, Merrick!"

He kept laughing. I just stood there taking in that incredible sight with my arms folded across my chest. He may not be able to see the annoyance in my stance, but I needed to show it somehow.

And it
was
annoyance. Not arousal.

Not. Arousal.

"Are you done yet?" I snapped.

He shrugged those massive shoulders and let the laugh die out, that smile still on his handsome, still clean shaven face. A face he had attempted to shave on his own a few times until he was forced to ask for my help again. I knew he thought about that almost kiss two weeks before. I hadn't ever
stopped
thinking about it.

Would he try it again?

God, I hoped he did. If Emma hadn't walked in when she did, I would have been all over the man. Just like now. If something didn't interrupt us soon, I was going to climb him like a tree. His rare silliness only added to my uncontainable attraction to him.

"Now, tell me what the hell happened that made it sound like you hurt yourself. You look perfectly fine to me."

Oh, shit. That smile only got bigger.

"I do?"

I stomped my foot, trying not to smile. "Merrick!"

"Okay, okay. Sorry, it's just nice to know that you find me attractive."

He was baiting me. I knew it, but I couldn't stop myself from latching on. "Of course I do. I've always found you attractive."

This time that smile was accompanied by the deepest – and manliest – shade of pink in his cheeks. God, the man was beautiful. The scar slashing through the left side of his face did nothing but make it harder for me to look away. I swear I could stare at him all day and never get tired of it.

"These damn crutches are painful." Merrick lifted an arm as he spoke.

My eyes widened at the sight of raw, red skin under his arms. "Oh my God, Merrick, why didn't you tell me?"

He shook his head and rolled his eyes. Of course he wouldn't tell me. He was the master at keeping things inside.

I moved closer to get a better look. The irritated skin looked painful, reddening some of the scars from his previous burns in the same area. I could only imagine how much they actually hurt.

"It wouldn't be so bad if I could move from the shower to the room without the damn things. Am I walking on them wrong?"

I shook my head and lifted his arm, trying in vain to ignore those thick muscles of his under my fingers. "You're doing just fine on them. This happens more often than you think, but normal people tell someone
before
it gets this bad."

"Yeah, well you know better than anyone that I'm not normal," he said, his tone soft.

I looked up into his face, seeing that his eyes were aimed down at me, as if he was actually looking at me. The distant and empty look in them made me want to growl in frustration. It was the first time I wished with every fiber of my being that he could see. The first time I wished the past hadn't happened for someone else.

I felt his breath fan my face, not realizing how close I was to him until that moment. It would only take a slight movement to press my lips to his. If he knew how sexy he actually was, I don't think he would care
what
I thought of him. But the look on his face told me that he
did
care, and he was worried.

"You're better than normal, Merrick."

Neither one of us breathed, the air around us sizzling with electricity. I could almost hear the crackle, and I sure as hell could feel it.

Letting his arm drop, I stepped away from him before I lost my mind. The smell of his body wash did crazy things to my stomach, not to mention the things that happened a little further down.

"I'm going to get some ointment. You should probably stay off the crutches for a little while so you don't make it worse."

He nodded and felt around for his bed before slowly sitting down and tossing the crutch aside. "Would you mind finding me some clothes then?"

I swallowed, barely getting past the lump in my throat. "Sure."

A few minutes later, Merrick was dressed and I was sweating bullets. Touching him was getting more and more difficult to do without feeling like I was going to burst into flames. I needed to talk about something to take my mind off of his body.

"So, Josh is asking Keara tonight," I blurted out as he adjusted the brace on his leg.

"Really? That's great."

"Yeah, he's taking her to Salt Lake. Fancy dinner and a show."

Merrick grinned. "He isn't going to hide the ring in her food is he?"

"Oh, God. Probably," I laughed. "He was nervous as hell and had no idea when he would do it. He said he'd just wing it."

"Uh oh. Do you think that's wise?"

I shrugged. "At this point, I don't think Keara cares
how
he does it."

Merrick chuckled, a wide smile stretching through those lips as he adjusted the final strap on his brace. "Good for them. You didn't spill the beans, did you?"

I scoffed, completely offended by that question. "Excuse me?"

"I'm just asking," he said quickly, holding his hands up in front of me to hold off my attack. "You seem excited about it and I know how you women like to talk."

"Yeah, but I can keep a secret if I need to."

He shrugged, looking every bit the nonchalant he was going for, and shifted on the bed until he could reach the wall.

"Why did you just shrug?"

"What?"

I crossed my arms over my chest and popped my hip out. This kind of thing worked with my father all the time and Mom was a pro at the hip pop. Merrick couldn't see it, though. Didn't stop me from doing it because, damn, it felt good.

"You shrugged," I pointed out sharply. "Like you didn't believe me."

"I believe you," he argued with a smile.

Teasing me seemed like the only thing he actually enjoyed these days, but instead of annoying me, it was only making me like him more. This was the Merrick I used to stare at in class. The Merrick everyone gravitated to. The Merrick I drew a heart around in almost every year book I owned.

"I don't believe you," I said with an almighty glare that would have had other men shaking in their boots.

This caused another laugh that took my breath away. "Oh, Grace. You're adorable, you know that?"

His use of the same word I used to describe him was intentional, but instead of arguing about it, I smiled and kept my voice matter-of-fact. "I know."

He stepped forward with a hand on the wall, smirking playfully. Then he put more pressure on his leg than he should. The painful grimace on his face made me roll my eyes.

"Okay, tough guy. You aren't going anywhere right now so sit back down. We'll do your exercises in here."

He did as he was told, that same mischievous grin appearing on his face. "I can think of plenty of fun exercises to do on my bed, but I'm assuming you aren't into that."

I felt my face flame, because I was
very much
into that, but he didn't need to know that. "What a charmer."

I walked out of the room, leaving him chuckling on his bed, hoping I had enough self-control to touch him without actually
touching
him.

"This is going to be a long day."

***

"You'll be happy to hear that I have plans this evening."

My head snapped up so quickly, I was sure I strained several muscles in my neck. Merrick was standing unsteadily in the doorway of the kitchen a few days after the nonsexual-exercises-on-the-bed episode. I still couldn't get the image of him standing in the middle of his room, in nothing but his boxer briefs, out of my head. So, suffice it to say, the first thing I saw when I looked at him was that he was definitely wearing clothes.

I didn't even try to stop the frown.

Did he just say he had plans?

"I'm sorry?"

Merrick smiled and slowly made his way through the kitchen, counting his steps along the way until he reached out and grasped the edge of the counter where I was sitting. He was doing as much as he could only using one of the crutches and before long, he would no longer need them.

"I have plans tonight."

"You do?" I asked with a small squeak.

"I do. With my sister."

God, I really wish I could have held back the deep sigh of relief, but it came out so fast. There was no covering it up or taking it back.

With Keara and Josh finally getting engaged, for some reason I just felt like everyone was settling down and I was still in limbo. What would happen if Merrick found someone?

"What kinds of plans did you think I'd have?"

I shrugged and turned back to the book I'd started reading the night before. It was no surprise that with everything on my mind, I still hadn't finished the first chapter.

"Grace?"

I hesitated a moment, then looked back at him. His eyes were pointed down at the counter top and his hand was close to mine. I wanted to slide mine right over his and feel the strength in that hand.

"I don't know. I thought maybe you'd be going out with friends."

He laughed dryly. "What friends?"

"You have friends here, Merrick. Lots of them."

"And not one of them wants to deal with a blind man."

"Merrick ..."

He slid his hand away and pulled it through his hair, his lips pressed together in frustration. "I'm sorry, Grace. I know you're trying to help, but I don't think you realize that all the friends I used to have are no longer a part of my life."

"What about the friends you made in the military? Do any of them live close by?"

Merrick's expression suddenly dropped altogether. No anger or surprise or even thoughtfulness. Just empty. His face was pale and his good leg started to shake. I grabbed his arm and forced him to sit, hoping against hope that I didn't just open a can of worms for him.

It was a long time before he took a deep breath and told me something I wasn't expecting at all.

"There's one friend that lives in Mona. A few hours from here. Ryan Warner."

"Were you close with him?"

Merrick nodded his head and clenched his fists. "He was my best friend. We did everything together."

I knew then that this wasn't just a friend he made and hung out with when there was down time. This Ryan was
there
. He was there when everything went to shit.

I decided to take advantage of his sudden willingness to talk. "Have you talked to him since you've been back?"

He slowly shook his head and closed his eyes.

"You haven't called him? He hasn't called you?"