Chapter Fifty-Six Larissa #2
“I, uh, saw the statistics about veterans who’ve been in as many firefights as you have, and they’re …
I can see why you took your mental training so seriously.
Why your fear is what it is. I still think about that story you told me about the soldier.
A lot, actually. And knowing what I do about how it manifests—” I shake my head, knowing I’m explaining myself horribly.
“I just—let’s just say I understand it a little more.
” Braving a look at him, I see his eyes are fully focused on me as he holds Macey to his chest. The sight of her wrapped in a terrycloth towel against him burning itself into my brain.
“So I guess my question is, how are you, really?”
“Still cloudy,” he admits instantly. “Still struggling a lot. Especially in the morning after so little sleep. I have to mentally prep every day. I do exercises, and sometimes they don’t work.
The day can get away from me to the point I’m utterly unproductive and emotional, but I am getting better,” he assures. “I don’t want you scared—”
“Stop, I want to understand what you’re going through,” I explain. “And I can’t do that if you’re too afraid to tell me the truth.”
“That means—” He drops his eyes and shakes his head. “That means a lot to me, Larissa. I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
“I want to know when you’re going through a hard time, when you’re experiencing symptoms. When you need a break to try and reset, or some help, and I don’t want you to lie about it, ever. Because it won’t help, okay?”
“Fuck, I don’t deserve you,” he murmurs as I pull Alexander out and hold him to me the same way he holds Macey. My eyes threatening to water as I confess more of the truth.
“Part of the reason you got the invitation here is because I spent a lot of time thinking about that story. And though you were speaking for another soldier, I swear I could hear you, feel you speaking for yourself from somewhere within it. It was like you were trapped inside it and begging to be set free.” I look over to him. “Am I wrong?”
He slowly shakes his head as we sit for a few weighted seconds with our wiggling babies against our chests. Our smiles growing as they squirm against us.
“The best therapy there is, right?” He reads my thoughts, thinking the same.
“I’ve been benefiting a lot longer,” I boast, and he nods, eyes dimming.
“I didn’t mean it like that, really, Tyler—”
“Jesus,” he groans, “I know. We’re both trying, maybe a little too hard. Is it bad that I almost can’t wait for the day we fight again?” he asks. “At least things won’t feel so awkward. Then again, you’re pretty cute trying to think about how to better use your words.”
I narrow my eyes. “Keep it up, and the wait for that fight won’t be long.”
“Oh, but I can’t wait, little mobster. You are, by far, my favorite person to spar with.
” He gives me a slow wink before walking toward one of two changing tables.
Turning back suddenly in thought, lips open, he busts me zeroing in on his ass.
Instantly averting my eyes, I walk Alexander to the table beside him and finish drying him as we start to work silently together, opening the bottle of powder as his whisper reaches me.
“Mommy just got totally busted checking out daddy’s ass—butt,” he whispers to Macey conspiratorially. “Think Daddy should go in for a kiss goodnight?”
Tilting the bottle, I cover his face in a light dusting of powder, and he explodes into laughter, coughing. His chuckle following me as I tape Alexander’s diaper and walk out of the room, not missing his request for advice. “You think Daddy should take that as a no?”
Not long after, Tyler lingers at my door, the outline of his hair still covered in powder as I smudge it away with my thumb beneath the lamplight. His eyes heavy on my profile as he bends a little for my comfort, leaving us face-to-face.
“I’m not leaving Italy,” he announces. “I know I was only invited until after the New Year, but I’m staying close. I’ve rented a place in downtown Barga.”
My lips part in shock. “Really?”
“Did you not hear a word I said?”
“What about the club?”
“I got fired. I’m choosing to stay fired.”
“Tyler, it’s your whole life.”
“You are my new life,” he urges. “I know you’re probably sick of my words, but I meant them. All of them.”
I continue stroking his profile even after the remnants of powder have disappeared.
“I mean, yes, but I thought you meant like—metaphorically you aren’t leaving.”
“Like the raven and the wolf working together?”
My cheeks heat as I still my fingers. “Shut up.”
“I personally love the idea and think it’s a good one. Think about what we could do, accomplish together … I do, and have been.” He rakes his lower lip, his eyes lingering on mine. “Do you have plans for New Year’s?”
“There’s a party here every year. Tula keeps a lot of traditions.”
“Oh.” He nods.
“Why?”
“I was hoping to take you on a date.”
“You want to go on a date?” I lower my thumb to brush over the greenish-yellow stain beneath his eye, which is starting to fade.
“Well, yeah, I mean technically we’ve done everything fucking backwards.” Looking uncharacteristically nervous, he leans in a little more, bracing his hand against the villa as he gives me more access to the jaw I’m all but caressing at this point.
He continues, “If you think about it, we went from kissing minute one, straight into divorce and resentment fighting, before fucking each other stupid. Which, let’s face it, happens at all stages of a relationship.
Broke up. Had babies. Broke up again, but never dated once.
And so I would say some dating and wooing are called for—seems like the natural next step.
Unless you want to skip straight to marriage? ”
The church bell chimes on the half hour just after, and our eyes widen as he chuckles. “I’m going to take that as a good sign.”
“That’s not even funny. We’re a nightmare, Marine.”
“Turning into a good dream, little mobster.”
“You look a little better,” I blurt. “More color.”
“Tula’s been stuffing me full of pasta since I got here, and I’ve been eating it. You guys are hella cooks. Think she might be warming up to me?”
“I think she’s heard so much about you over the years that she’s invested in you.”
“Because of you.” He lifts my palm, kissing it before placing it back on his jaw and covering it with his own. That look shining through as he speaks. “It can be a friend date, if you want.”
“You’re shaking again,” I say, brows furrowing.
“That’s because I’m staring at my only trigger.”
When I snatch my hand away, he palms it right back to his cheek. “The same reason you’re afraid to trust me again is the very reason I went radioactive, Larissa. It’s a good shake, I promise.”
“How?”
“It’s what I feel for you. This shake is everything I denied I had to give to anyone after she died—now it belongs to you. It’s flooding me right now,” he whispers hoarsely. “It’s healing me, Larissa.”
“Tyler,” I croak as my own insides start to shake.
“I think Italy is starting to agree with me. So.” He presses another kiss to my hand, eyes fluttering closed briefly. “Date?”
“I’ll think about it,” I manage through the lump in my throat.
“Do that.” He winks, releasing me. “And—” He drops his tone to a heated whisper. “It’s okay if you want to ogle my ass again as I walk away.”
Seconds after I step back and slam the door shut in his face, he appears in the window of my villa just as I’m about to draw the curtains.
Sweater strategically flipped up above his jean-clad ass, he saunters along the window, adding more swagger as he walks the length of the glass, catching my eyes through it before mouthing “last chance.”
Laughter bursts out of me as I draw the curtains closed.