Vivid (20 page)

"A lot of those guys were really great. They were just like us. Kids protecting their country, or at least trying to by doing what they were told. Then there were some who hated us and just wanted us gone. I get it. I'd feel the same way, but it wouldn't change anything. We were still there and they still hated us. Just had to do my job and move on, all the while hoping nothing got too violent.

"I'd heard about the teams that ran into a rogue a time or two. No one can weed out the bad ones until it's too late. That kept us alert, but how do you control something like that? You can't," I scoffed, still wishing it were different. "Some of them would try to infiltrate the trainers. They'd squeeze themselves in until they were established nice and tight, then they'd turn the gun on us because they believed it was their destiny. What they were
supposed
to do."

Even now, I could feel the bitterness in hearing the stories. I wanted justice for men I never met.

"It happened, but not so often that it gave us reason to stop. We had a job to do whether they liked us or not."

I recalled the faces of some of the Iraqi men I had to trust, at least temporarily. They were funny and crazy; innocent. They just wanted it over, too. Living in a country that had some hard times – just like any other – came with its struggles. It wasn't their fault. Some parts of war
can
be civil. That's why it's possible to eventually end it without more losses than necessary. It's just that humans always failed at the civil part.

"It wasn't all training and tiptoeing around each other. There were times where we went days just doing paperwork." I paused, a sick amusement making me snicker. "I loved those days. Writing a report about the mission progress or someone I didn't think belonged was easier than holding a gun. I didn't want to be out there risking my neck and I didn't want to have to kill. No man does."

It was so much simpler to spend the day in an office writing the same things over and over, counting the numbers for supplies, listing names and dates. I would have done anything to stay in that office every day, even if I was bored out of my mind half the time. Paperwork didn't have an expiration.

"Then there were days we had free time. We'd hit the gym in the morning, eat, take inventory on our gear, and spend the rest of it trying to stay cool. Relaxing. There was always a little bit of normal, but it wasn't ever enough."

"What kinds of things did you do?" Grace inquired, her small voice penetrating my memories.

I shrugged. "Anything really. Video games, reading, whatever we felt like that we had at our disposal."

"I didn't realize you had all that over there."

I gave a half shrug, "Not many people do."

It was an attempt to center ourselves before we had to roll out to another compound. Before we had to see the destruction on the streets as we drove by.

It was a countdown.

"Ryan spent a lot of his free days making lists. Lists about what he needed for the nursery, what Miranda was craving, or what the doctor said at her last appointment. He'd spend hours staring at the ultrasound pictures she sent him," I mused, grinning because we all knew he was obsessed with it no matter how much he actually tried to hide it. "Then, when he finally felt some peace about what was going on back home, he'd join us for a movie or a barbeque. I didn't realize it at the time, but I was jealous of that. The ability to forget where he was and focus on home ... I wanted that."

"I'm sure it was difficult," Grace whispered. "I can't imagine what it would be like not knowing what was happening back home."

I was so wrapped up in trying to stay alert and ready that I forgot to worry about normal things. After a while, you forget about sports teams and scores when you're in the middle of the desert surrounded by people that really don't like you being there. Any moment could become your last. There isn't time to truly care about the next game. You try because it's what you're supposed to do, but it's rarely real.

It's still an odd feeling to just forget. But eventually you realize that all the luxuries back home need to
stay
home. You don't really need them anymore. Not out there.

"It gets frustrating," I continued. "Sometimes, you forget the reasons
why
you went there in the first place. It's hot on a good day. When it rains, you end up covered to the hip with muck and mud. It's not the most beautiful terrain, especially on base. Everything is covered in dirt and sand, and even the sky looks like it's just dust sweeping back and forth. Blue skies were rare. You tend to miss those little things that people back home don't ever think about."

I released Grace's hand and rubbed my palms over the tops of my thighs. I was starting to feel all those doubts again. The ones that made me angry in the first place. The uncontrollable things.

"No one knows what goes through the mind of each man out there. It's no longer a job that feeds your family or pays for school," I told her, knowing I spoke for ninety nine percent of the men out there. "I was done. Sick of the smells, the air, the purpose. Why should I stay and risk my life for people who wanted me dead anyway? For what? To teach a few men something they might use against me?"

I raked my fingers through my hair and drew in a long, cleansing breath. Grace needed to hear it all. She needed to know that the damaged man in front of her wasn't empty. I still had so much to give and I wanted to give it to
her
.

"I was there for my brothers and that was it. Not for the money, not for the pride." I shook my head and spoke the truth. "I was there for the man at my side. The one with his loaded gun ready to fire to protect me. I was there to protect
him
."

I remembered that day so clearly. The day I knew I finally found the right reasons for being there.

Grace waited. I didn't know what she was doing with her hands and I couldn't see her face, but she was listening to every word that left my mouth, like she always did. That's what made me keep going.

"So, I opened the door to my CHU – the box I called home – and I prepared myself to hate another day, but to
live it
because Ryan depended on me to live it. They all depended on me to live it just like I depended on them, running on empty or not." Deep breath in and out. "Then I looked down, and I saw this flower."

I paused, searching for the right words and seeing that marvel in my mind. As soon as I did, I felt the heat. That dry desert sun and the breeze that only made it worse. I felt the sand that was stuck between my fingers and toes. Not the smooth, cool sand at a beach. Not that. This was the kind that felt like dusted chalk. Lifeless. Stuck to everything until the color beneath it was lost.

"It was just a weed. Something that only grows in the dry and blistering heat of the desert, in the dust and sand. And this flower ... it was the first color I'd seen in months other than brown. I can still see it in my mind so perfectly. White. So white that it was the very absence of color, but to me, it was vivid.

"The leaves were covered in dust, until you couldn't even see the green and this flower, it was just there. Surrounded by nothing."

It was a fucking miracle.

I grinned. "And I thought, that's what it's all about. Finding the beauty in the ugly, the good in the bad, the light in the dark. This one tiny thing; it was for me. It was a reminder that life doesn't have to be clean and perfect to be beautiful."

I closed my eyes and the image locked in. That small, insignificant flower held my world on its petals. A fragile world on a delicate surface.

"I left the base that day and when I came back, it was gone. Shriveled up and already dead. Even something meant to grow in the worst of conditions, couldn't survive a life there. Because the life we get is precious. There one second and gone the next. But that flower – that flawless white flower – was the only thing I could see in the dust." I swallowed past the thick lump that had formed in my throat and pressed on. "Life should be that way. Somehow, I forgot what that meant to me."

Grace had no idea how close I came to forgetting completely. A man can only take so much before that life gets the best of him. I didn't want to be saved, but she'd done it before I could blink. She'd cared about me enough to be a light in my dark, brittle world.

I leaned back on the couch and turned my face to the ceiling. "I've been through hell, seen shit you could only dream of in your nightmares, and I've gone up against men three times my size. You'd think I would be prepared for anything, but I'm not. I'm still scared of the dark and the monsters that lurk there." I took a deep breath and forced myself to say the words I truly felt. "You're the only light I can see, Grace, and for a man who still feels the need to hide under his blankets at night, you're a fucking miracle."

Grace was holding her breath. I could tell from the complete silence beside me. I hesitantly reached over and fumbled around to find her hand again. When I had my fingers wrapped around hers, I pulled them up to my lips again, almost desperate for the feel of her.

"You asked me, why you," I muttered against her skin.

She tensed and exhaled.

"It's you because, I may be broken and damaged, but with you, I've never felt more complete."

To my disappointment, she pulled her hand away, but the panic was short-lived. She cupped my cheek, turning my face toward hers. For the millionth time, I wished that her face would appear in front of my eyes. Just once.

"Merrick. You're not broken. A little scratched up, maybe," she pointed out. "But sometimes, scratches make things beautiful."

I grasped her small hand in mine and turned my head to kiss her palm. She whimpered when I pulled my lips away, the sound sending lightning through my veins.

With a weak tug, she pulled my hands forward, guiding them closer until I was cupping her face.

"Do you still want to see me?"

"More than anything," I confessed.

Her skin was so soft, like velvet or silk. I was scared that if I wasn't gentle enough, I would hurt her. My fingers weren't as rough as they used to be, but they weren't worthy of touching her beautiful skin.

Didn't stop me.

I drifted over her cheeks, her jaw, her chin, feeling every feature and painting that perfect picture my eyes strained to see so desperately. I wanted to touch her lips, but I'd save those for last. They'd take the breath right out of me, no doubt.

Shifting forward, I combed my fingers through her hair and discovered it was longer than I pictured in my mind. The strands slid between my fingers like silk; exquisite.

She took a shaky breath.

"Is this okay?" I asked, my voice rough.

"Yes," she whispered back.

With trembling hands, I slid my fingers over her ears, registering the feel of a piercing in the cartilage at the top of her left ear. God, I loved that. For some reason, that piercing was so sexy to me.

I glided my fingers down her jaw once more and pressed my thumbs inward until I touched her nose. It was so petite. Smirking, I lightly tapped the end of it. "You were right. This nose is small, but it sure is straight."

She giggled, letting out a harsh breath. "Am I what you imagined?"

I moved my thumb between her eyebrows and felt the soft worry lines on her forehead. "Better, Grace. So much better and that's saying something. You're beautiful."

Her cheeks moved under my hands. A smile.

I couldn't resist. I had to know what that smile looked like, what it felt like. I dropped my hands until the tips of my fingers found those full, soft lips. Her smile pulled back in, but I couldn't bring myself to be disappointed.

There would be many more opportunities to make her smile and I sure as hell would take every single one of them.

I tugged on her bottom lip with my thumb, the urge to taste that lip, stronger than ever before. Her breath slid over my fingers while I memorized the feel of it.

"I want to kiss you."

I held my breath, waiting for her permission and not caring if I got it. After all this time, nothing was going to stop me from tasting Grace. Just one little taste of her. That's all. I needed it more than I needed that breath.

"Yes," she sighed.

I didn't pause, I didn't even think. I leaned in, slow and steady, hoping I wouldn't miss and knowing I just didn't care anymore. Our noses touched and I wondered if her eyes were closed.

It was in that moment, just before our lips touched, that I knew without a doubt in my mind I would do anything for her. I would
be
anyone for her. But I didn't have to, because she already accepted me the way I was.

Her lips finally pressed against mine and heat exploded inside me. For the first time ever, it wasn't just a kiss.

It was
everything
.

Everything my wrecked soul could possibly ask for.

I held her face between my hands, keeping her right where I wanted her as I deepened the kiss. Those lips parted, inviting me in, and I finally got to taste her.

Cookies. How did someone taste like cookies?

A low moan left her mouth when her tongue tangled with mine. I couldn't take it anymore. I pulled her closer, locking my lips with hers and snaking my arms around her waist.

She buried her hands in my hair, holding me against her, taking the kiss to a completely new level. Slow and steady. I felt her every movement, heard every breath that escaped her. The slower the kiss, the faster my heart beat against my chest.

"Merrick ..."

Hearing my name leave her mouth was like listening to her sing. What surrounded us, just disappeared.

"We need to slow down, Merrick."

God, I didn't want to. I wanted to lay her out in front of me and explore every soft inch of her. But the man I wanted to be for her, wouldn't let me. So I slowly pulled away, keeping her close.

"Okay," I breathed.

She leaned in to press her lips to mine again, holding my face between her hands. "That was ..."

"Yeah."

"I never ..."

"Yeah."

Those were the last words spoken for a good hour. I leaned back on the couch and Grace planted herself in my arms with her head on my shoulder. Counting the number of times I kissed her forehead or her hair, was impossible.