Vivid (5 page)

I heard a few thumps down the hall, but didn't bother looking that way. Merrick was coming towards the kitchen. I was ready for the most part.

He rolled in and felt his way to the fridge before taking a moment to position his chair so he could open the door. He didn't grab anything out of it, in fact, I think he had forgotten that he couldn't see anything inside of it when he made the decision to look in the first place. It was a habit.

"I could make you something if you'd like."

"You're my nurse, not my maid," he grumbled.

I rolled my eyes and pushed away from the counter. "Nurses are capable of putting together a bite to eat."

He tried to slam the door shut, but his chair stopped it, making several items in the door rattle around. He breathed heavily, his face going red with anger. God, he was handsome and so intense when he was angry, but if he was this good looking when he was pissed, I don't think I would be able to handle a smile. Instead of making sure the fridge door was shut, he rolled his way back down the hall, thumping the wall a time or two before gliding into his room.

I watched him go and felt my nose start to sting. Seeing him struggle wasn't easy, and the compassionate girl in me wanted to cry for him, but she didn't.

He needed to move forward and learn to live again.

I shut the fridge door, but grabbed an apple and bottle of water first, then made my way down the short hallway to Merrick's room. I wasn't quiet about it, but he ignored me as if he didn't even acknowledge my presence. He sat next to his window, his eyes pointing down to his lap and his good hand bunched into a fist.

"This isn't going to work if you don't learn to trust me. I'm here to help and I know you don't need it, but the doctor has ordered it," I said, setting the apple and water bottle down on the desk next to him. "You of all people should know what it's like to follow rules and obey orders."

His head snapped up and he scowled at the space in front of him. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

I wasn't surprised by his anger, but his intensity scared me this time. "It means that you were in the military. You followed orders and you learned discipline. You should understand that what you learned there, can apply to your life here."

He sat forward in his chair, his expression rock solid. "What I learned there could never apply to my life here. What I learned there was that the man beside me could die at any moment and it was up to me to protect him. You have no clue what it's like to know that kind of failure."

His words were a slap in the face, a cold reminder that he was dealing with something much darker than pain. He was right. I didn't know war, but I knew loss. I knew failure. I knew what it felt like to have your heart and soul ripped away from your body, leaving you empty and alone.

"I know more than you think, Merrick Thatcher. Don't underestimate me, but most importantly, don't underestimate yourself." I took a step back and saw the stone cold expression on his face soften, only a little bit. "An apple and bottle of water are at two o'clock on the desk. Once you eat something, we'll get started on your exercises."

I turned and walked away before he could respond. I didn't care what he said at this point. He had no right to provoke me, and I wasn't going to make this easy for him. I needed this job and he needed
me
.

I let the anger fester for a short time before I made lunch. I ate alone since Merrick never came out of his room.

When I wandered into the bathroom across the hall from his closed door, I saw one of the problems that I could fix. The pedestal sink allowed space for a wheelchair, but it didn't allow for much of anything else. He had nowhere to set his toothbrush so it could be easily reachable. I would have to speak with Emma about that later. I inspected the shower and found everything I would need, readily available including a seat and handicap bar. I was also happy to see a tub mat already in place. Slipping would be horrendous with two hundred and thirty-plus pounds of naked man falling on top of me.

I switched off the light and made my way to the living room. The Thatcher's home was beautiful. Wood floors, expensive furniture, stainless steel appliances in the kitchen. According to Mom, they had renovated the house shortly after they moved across town, always planning to keep it for their children, should they need it.

I remember being in the house a couple times before, when Mom and Dad had been invited for dinner. Merrick was never there, but Micah always kept me company. He even spoke to me in school and whenever he saw me outside. The funny part was that he was the reserved one in the family. He was a shy kid for a long time, but never around me. Micah wasn't a charmer like his older brother, but he certainly had that look about him. He would be a successful doctor in the very near future, too. He was smart and compassionate and even being reserved, he was good with people.

I used to think that Merrick would become the one everyone in town gravitated towards. Maybe, for a while there, he actually was that man. He had a job, a life, and a purpose. He did his part and took responsibility. I could only imagine what coming home would be like, only to lose all of that.

I'd seen the people come and go over the last few days, hoping to visit with him and bring him food, only to be turned away.

Mom told me that when he first got home, there were lines of people across the front yard, all hoping to see him and thank him for his service. He refused to come out of his room and Emma handled the thank-you-come-back-when-he's-feeling-better speeches.

I didn't think anyone would come by again because I didn't think Merrick would
ever
feel better.

My mind wandered to the first conversation I had with him just hours earlier. He said I wasn't a stranger and I missed it at the time, determined to argue back just as hard. Now that I thought about it, I wondered what he meant. I
was
technically a stranger, but in ways, I guess I wasn't. We had been neighbors for most of our lives and even though he never acknowledged me or even saw me, he was aware of me in one way or another.

I mean, seriously. How can someone never know their neighbor? Especially one he was in school with.

I leaned back on the couch and, without realizing it, started to hum. I always loved to sing. It was a way to calm myself whenever I got too nervous before a test or whenever I was going to be in a big crowd. Singing was one of the things I looked forward to when I found out I was pregnant. I sang to my belly every night, and I wrote songs for my baby for the nights she would spend crying with a fever or just overtired to the point where she would scream. I had prepared for those moments and, in a way, looked forward to them.

But I would never have them.

I closed my eyes and hummed a random melody.

The thump on the wall in the hallway made me grin, but I pulled it back. I didn't stop humming, keeping my eyes closed. All the while, Merrick was trying to be stealthy and get closer without being seen. I glanced over and saw his leg poking around the corner. Amusement felt wrong, but everyone needed a little hilarity once in a while. He didn't know I could see him, and I didn't
let
him know. If this is what it came down to, so be it.

 I started to hum a little louder and kept my eyes on the giant leg covered in a thick black immobilizer. Damn, that looked uncomfortable. I started planning out a therapy schedule in my mind to improve his movement and get him out of that thing as soon as possible. He didn't move from that spot as he listened to another random melody pour out of my mouth.

Maybe that was the key.

For a man who couldn't see, the sound of peace was the only comfort he would get.

Merrick

Almost a week of this shit and I was no closer to chasing Grace away.

My plan to get rid of her, quickly and quietly, didn't work. In fact, a part of me didn't even want her to ever leave. She hummed with everything she did and when she wasn't humming, she was singing.

When she was singing, I wasn't hurting.

It took the anger away. The anger I needed, to get through each day without falling apart.

We didn't talk much, except for the occasional argument back and forth about being compliant and following orders. After she invaded my privacy by stealing my phone to add her number to the speed dial, I spent most of each day locked up in my room.

Avoiding her was easy, but holding my bladder together wasn't.

Grace didn't coddle me and she allowed me to make the first attempts by myself, but she was always close by. It was actually surprising how proficient I became at lifting myself out of the chair and onto the damn toilet, just to avoid needing her help. Once I was finished, she left me to myself until I needed her, which was more often than not. It was exhausting trying to dress myself, use the bathroom, or just move around the house. I didn't shower because I couldn't stand the thought of her seeing me that way. Seeing the scars that covered my body and feeling her pity. It just wasn't a step I wanted to take.

I was starting to ferment, though, and I couldn't even stand to smell myself anymore. That didn't stop my refusal. She didn't push too hard at first, either, which made me wary.

On the third day, she arrived to find me still lying in my bed. After arguing with me about getting up and starting the day, she finally left me to sleep for another hour before she threatened to call my mother. If I was any weaker, I wouldn't have been able to stop her from forcing the pain medication down my throat. She relented for as long as possible, but when I couldn't hide the pain any longer, she put up quite the fight.

For such a tiny woman, she sure did have a bite.

There were no more late night lullabies after that. I didn't need them anyway.

At least, that's what I kept telling myself.

I don't need them. I don't need them.

I used a washcloth, late one night, to clean the stink off of me, but it didn't do any good. I could still smell myself. It was Friday now, and I was almost desperate for a shower. It was obvious I looked like a moron, thinking I could win this battle.

I was still sleeping when she arrived, waking to the sound of her humming in the kitchen along with the rustle of papers.

It took more effort than normal, but I finally got out of bed and into the chair that controlled my life these days. I felt my way along the wall and, for the first time in a week, didn't bump into the door. It was getting easier to maneuver the bulky wheelchair, and a small weight lifted off of my shoulders when I made it to the kitchen
without
putting another dent in the wall.

"Good morning, Merrick. You reek."

My lips tugged into a grin when I heard her greeting. She was sarcastic and straight forward, but she always did it sweetly. I heard her gasp before I could pull the grin back.

"Your smile makes up for it, though. Don't worry, I won't tell. We wouldn't want to ruin your bad-ass reputation, would we?"

I wanted to laugh. This woman challenged me at every turn, and I had to admit, I really liked it. Instead of laughing, I turned my chair to the fridge, barely stopping myself before opening it. That was a hard habit to break.

"I've organized the fridge for you. Would you like me to show you where everything is now, or after you shower?"

I was still focused on the fact that she thought organizing the fridge would help me, so I almost didn't catch the animosity in her voice.

"I'll call my mother myself, but you aren't helping me shower."

"Then you aren't eating today," she said sweetly.

"Excuse me?"

"I think you heard me."

I wanted to be able to walk and see, just for a few moments, so badly. Just enough time for me to grab her and spank the living daylights out of her. She thought she could threaten me?

"Didn't anyone ever teach you not to make idle threats?" I warned.

"Oh, that threat is very much legit, Merrick. Everything in that fridge has been placed in a container that's easy to open and labeled in Braille. So, unless you've learned to read Braille in the last month, which I highly doubt based on your cheery disposition, you aren't going to know what you're getting into. Unless you want to sniff everything, but I doubt you'd be able to decipher what's what under that stench you're putting off."

I could do nothing but let my mouth fall open in shock. She was completely serious.

"I know you're probably asking yourself, 'how could she?', so let me explain."

I heard her slip off of her stool and walk toward me. God, she smelled good. I could smell her sweet scent over my own stink and no matter how hard I tried, since that first day, I couldn't get it out of my mind. Was it vanilla or honey?

"You're going to let me help you shower today or you aren't going to eat at all. Now I know you need your food, but with your mother's approval, I'm laying down the law."

"What law?"

"The shower law."

"I'm a grown man."

"I'm a grown woman."

"This is childish," I bit out.

"
You're
childish."

"Seriously?"

"Stop pushing me away, Merrick," she said firmly, but I could hear the emotion she was trying to hide. My chest started to ache. I was stubborn, but up until now, it only hurt
me
. Mom didn't even let it get to her, most of the time.

Now, that stubbornness had penetrated Grace's soft skin and, instead of chasing her away, I was only making her life harder.
I'm officially at Top-Asshole status.

"Stop trying to erase everyone from your life and stop trying to slowly kill yourself. You want to honor your fellow soldiers? Live for them. Get better
for them
."

If I could just see her face ... that would be the end of it. I'd never been one to go for a stubborn woman, but Grace just had something about her that challenged me. The way she put me in my place was refreshing. It was effortless to like her and too easy to fall for her. Even when I tried so hard to push her away.

Why the hell hadn't I noticed her before?

"Now, are you going to let me help you or are you going to ferment a little more?" she asked.

I shifted my eyes up, hoping to catch a glimpse of whatever expression she was throwing my way. All I could see was ... nothing. I didn't even know if my eyes were pointed at
her
. I swallowed down the lump in my throat and forced myself to get it together. It was pointless to hope for something that I knew would never happen.

Something that
couldn't
happen.

Grace sighed. I felt her hand on my good arm a moment later, and her voice came from below me when she spoke. She was crouched down in front of me.

"I'm a professional first, Merrick. I know it's awkward to let someone help you with the basics, but right now, it's necessary. Soon, you'll be healed up and won't need anyone's help and I'll be out of your life forever. Until then, I'm running the show, okay? And I promise to be respectful."

Out of my life? I didn't want that. Not at all. But I was too much of a chump to admit it out loud. She was right. It was time to start cooperating. "Respectful?"

"Yes," she replied. "I'm not going to grope you, I promise. I'm more desperate to stop smelling you."

"I stink that bad?" I asked, feeling a twitch in my lips as I fought the grin.

She chuckled softly and stood, keeping her hand on my arm. "Yes. You smell like a garbage truck."

I dropped my head to hide the smile forcing its way through. "Then I guess I better get cleaned up."

"Good idea."

She was walking away when I spoke. "Then maybe you can grope me after."

Her steps silenced. A few tense seconds passed before her laughter reached my ears. A sound she could easily sell to the darkest souls out there.

"He jokes! I'm in shock over here, Merrick," she said through her laughter. Then her steps moved farther away.

She thought I was joking.

Let her, Merrick.

That's when it hit me. She won. I didn't even see it coming. Just a few words out of her mouth and I was basically her bitch now.

Is it bad that I didn't really care?

I turned my chair to follow Grace, but I was in too much of a hurry this time. Before I could reach out to the wall, the chair smacked into it. I grumbled a curse and tried to shift, but the damn thing wouldn't budge.

"The pillow dropped, Merrick. It's stopping the wheel. Here let me get it first."

Her scent surrounded me once more, and she brushed up against my good leg as she pulled the pillow out from under the wheel. My earlier joke was now at the forefront of my mind and slowly trickling downward.
Not now. Not when I'm about to be naked.

That had been my biggest worry since she showed up. An erection popping up while she was helping me shower, was
not
going to be my finest hour. Not that I had many of those anyway. Would she run screaming if she knew I was attracted to her? And how the hell could I be attracted to her if I couldn't even see her?

Because you know, Merrick. You know she's beautiful. You can feel it in your bones.

"All set. I'm heading to the bathroom. I'll meet you in there."

She didn't offer to push me down the hall, and she didn't doubt that I would follow her in the first place. I'd bet my savings account that she had a sway to her hips when she walked. I would probably crash into the wall with that kind of distraction anyway.

Damn, I missed seeing a beautiful woman. Seeing the teasing curves of a
real
woman and being on the other end of a sensual smile. That's the kind of thing that should be keeping me up at night.

As I turned the corner, my ears picked up the sound of Grace moving things around in the shower. I rolled into the bathroom and waited. My good hand was balled into a fist and the need to fidget was stronger than ever. Do I just start trying to undress or do I wait for her help? Was she going to watch me? Did I
want
her to watch me?

I was in uncharted territory now. The decision to cooperate was much harder than the arguing, but she was right. I had been childish. For some reason, this woman made me want to change that.

"Alright, Merrick. I don't know how your mom did this, but my way is going to be pretty easy. Let's take your shirt off first," she said, her tone professional. Her hands landed on my shoulders, letting me know she was there. When they quickly dropped down to my chest, I felt like the wind was knocked clean out of me.

"You okay?" she asked, her hands faltering.

I'd never been a heavy breather, but fuck if I could control it in that moment.

"What are you doing?" I asked, shakily. My voice sounded like sandpaper since my mouth had gone dry just seconds ago.

"I'm helping you remove your shirt. I just want you to know where my hands are so I don't startle you."

Oh. Well, that makes sense.

"Okay."

"Okay," she said, then took a deep breath.

"Proceed," I said as casually as I could. Her soft laugh didn't help the situation at all.

Those gentle hands moved to the hem of my shirt, and lifted. Cool air hit my stomach and I felt goose bumps trail across my skin. She adjusted my shirt until I could pull my good arm through it, then she lifted it over my head. I felt a few tugs on the sling protecting my other arm. Once it was free, she gently maneuvered my arm so she could remove the shirt completely.

My good hand absently scratched through the scruff on my face. I needed to shave soon or it would take me even longer than it already did. I could feel the patches that were more scraggly than others. There was no way to make it even and I'd forced Mom to stop doing it for me. Getting used to the feel of it without seeing it would take a while.

Why do you even care?

I closed my eyes, feeling extremely exposed without my shirt. I couldn't see her, but I didn't want her to see
me
. Not when my emotions were hanging by a thread. Was she looking at my scars? At the mangled skin of my upper arm and my left side? Was she frowning or grossed out?

I shouldn't care. She was my nurse and I shouldn't care. I should have been a man about it and faced it head on. I. Shouldn't. Care.

But I did.

"Now, let's remove your shorts."

I couldn't stop the words from leaving my mouth, and no matter how childish it sounded, I needed to know. "How disgusted
are
you? On a scale of one to ten."

She sighed and moved my arm aside so she could reach the waist of my shorts. "That's not a very good joke, Merrick."

"I'm not joking, Grace."

She stopped moving, but stayed close to me. I could feel her quick breaths on the skin of my chest. It was doing things to me that I hadn't felt in a long time.

I must be coming down with something. A fever maybe?

"There is no need for a scale because I'm not disgusted. You're scarred, Merrick, not ruined."

"They're the same thing."

"They aren't," she snapped.

I dropped my head, hoping my eyes were close to meeting hers or at least her face. "Then why does it feel like they are?"

Her small hand touched my cheek, the warmth from her fingers making me ache for more. She cupped my scarred jaw before running her fingers back, behind the damaged skin of my ear. I couldn't breathe. I didn't want to. Not if it meant the moment would be over. Her gentle fingers followed the scarring up to my eye and over my brow. Her touch felt intimate, but more compassionate than anything else.

She hummed softly as her fingertips drifted back down to the scruff on my jaw. "It feels like they're the same because you haven't healed yet. Feels like your life is over because you've lost so much, and it hurts to even breathe." Her hand cupped my cheek again, and I wondered if this was her idea of being professional, because I'd double the pay if it was.