Chapter 18
Matt
The look in Madi’s eyes as she watched me eat the pasta was enough to make my erection impossibly hard. Her tongue darted out and swiped her bottom lip.
What I wouldn’t give to do the same. And maybe nibble on it too.
She’d liked it when I’d bitten her lower lip six months ago.
As if she could tell what I was thinking—not that it was difficult—she blushed, the color spreading from her cheeks to her ample chest.
She cleared her throat. “So, um, how’d you end up being the team medic?”
“I applied for the thirty-six week training program after earning my trident.”
“But why? Don’t most SEALs want to be snipers and tough guys?”
I almost spit out my wine. “Don’t worry, Red, I’m plenty tough.”
“I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant.”
“I was kidding. Sort of.” I waited for her to relax. “I qualified for sniper training, and I would’ve passed, easily.” It wasn’t a brag; the skills I’d learned as a competitive archer translated to shooting. “I wanted a challenge, and not many guys had the stomach for medical training.”
There was more to it, but I gave her the same blanket answer I gave everyone. It was easier than talking about never wanting to feel helpless to help someone ever again. Not that my training could’ve helped my sister.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“You just did.”
She came ‘this’ close to rolling her eyes.
“You never talk about your family. Are your parents in Colorado? Do you have any siblings?”
The question was innocent enough, but my body still didn’t like it. I rarely talked about my family, and for good reason.
My family wasn’t like Madi’s; never had been.
That’s not technically true. I had a few memories of happy times before my mother left us.
Everything after that was a nightmare of alcohol-induced neglect by my father and caring for my sick little sister. Leukemia claimed Tammy’s life far too soon, and it gutted me. I felt helpless as my sister’s health faded.
Madi’s soft hand on mine brought me back to the present and had the added effect of lessening the tension that always built when I thought about my family.
“Are you okay?”
Not trusting my voice, I nodded.
She held space for me while I composed myself. The tips of her fingers gliding across the back of my hand offered silent comfort. In a move I was likely to regret later, I turned my hand over and laced my fingers with hers.
Instead of pulling away, she held my hand like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Like a girlfriend would.
But we couldn’t happen for a handful of reasons.
Mostly because I refused to let another person leave me and break my heart.
“Sorry. There’s a lot there.”
“You don’t have to tell me. We can talk about something else.” She backed her words by squeezing my hand.
When I finally lifted my gaze from my plate, the compassion in her eyes made me want to share.
“My family’s nothing like yours. For starters, they’re all dead.”
Her sharp inhale told me I’d gone too far.
“Sorry, that was harsh.”
“What happened?”
“My mom left us after my little sister was diagnosed with leukemia. She couldn’t handle it.”
“That sucks.”
No sympathy or awkward apologies, just acceptance.
“It did. My father couldn’t deal with the loss and turned to drinking. He lost his job, and the insurance covering my sister’s treatment. That’s when I started working at the ranch.”
“How old were you?”
“When she got sick, twelve. Thirteen when I started working at the ranch.”
“Too young.”
“Yeah, but I was strong and could easily do manual labor.”
I thanked God every day for the job at Shane’s. He worked with wayward teens, but I was lucky enough to work for him before getting into trouble. He knew the score in my household and went to bat for me when I got arrested for stealing.
“Shane’s the reason the judge agreed to expunge the arrest from my record when I turned eighteen.” I can’t believe I’m sharing this. Telling people I got arrested as a teen was something I didn’t do.
Her eyes widened before she asked, “Shane?”
I appreciated her not asking more about the arrest.
“He owns the ranch. He was more of a dad to me than my real father. He paid me well, and every paycheck went to Tammy’s doctors. Despite his generosity, it wasn’t enough.”
I failed her. Just like my parents failed me.
“You did everything you could.”
“I could’ve quit school.” It was the same old song and dance playing in my head. If I had quit school and worked full time, I might have saved her.
I’d actually tried when I was fourteen, but Shane marched my ass back to the school when I showed up on his doorstep asking for more hours.
“Why didn’t you?” Her question held no judgment.
“Shane wouldn’t let me destroy my future.
” He told me, repeatedly, that more money wouldn’t help my sister.
That didn’t stop him from helping me organize fundraisers and giving me as much work as I could handle while keeping my grades up.
Every dime went to the doctors, but money wasn’t the problem.
“Smart man.”
“He is.” I shut down the bad memories and focused on the positive. “Shane’s the reason I became a SEAL. He served on the teams when he was in the Navy, and listening to him talk about his experience made me want to join.”
I wanted to be like Shane, not my father.
“Did he know that when he told you not to quit school?”
“He did. He said, ‘Matthew, things are tough right now, and they’ll probably get worse before they get better, but you can’t give up.’ He was right. Things got worse.”
The doctors did everything they could but it didn’t matter. Holding Tammy’s hand as she passed from this world to the next six months after my arrest wrecked me.
I had no way to tell our mother. My father was too drunk to care.
I vowed then and there I’d never love anyone again. Love led to pain.
Shane was the exception because he already held space in my heart, though fifteen year old me didn’t know it.
Madi probed with gentle questions, and I told her how my sister passed away from complications before my sophomore year. By then, my father was a raging alcoholic and doing his best to drink himself to death.
He succeeded while I was in BUD/S. I shocked my commanding officer when I declined the opportunity to go home for his funeral. His death brought all the old anger to the surface, causing me to lose focus and fail out.
I waited for her to say something. She didn’t.
“The instant I was eligible I got back in the saddle, so to speak.”
“Is Shane still alive?”
“He is.” I smiled. “I spent Christmas with him and his wife.”
“I’m glad you have him in your life.”
Me too.
“Sorry, that was heavy for a first date.” I quickly corrected. “Even if it’s a fake one.”
I didn’t want a relationship, but sharing a little of my past eased some of its hold over me. I rarely talked about it, but Madi made it easy with her kind, empathetic personality.
“Please don’t apologize.”
“Want another glass?” I asked, nodding towards her empty wineglass.
“Thanks, but I have to work tomorrow.”
So did I. “How about dessert?”
“I’m full, but would you maybe want to take a walk?” Madi asked, sounding small.
Not wanting the night to end, I said, “I’d love to.”
Her smile was my reward, and it was worth its weight in gold.
“Is there anywhere special you’d like to go?” Madi grew up in Weatherford, so it stood to reason she’d have favorite places.
“How about the park? They have a walking path and a gazebo.”
“The park it is.”
This time, when I placed my hand on Madi’s back, she leaned into it. It wasn’t much, but it sent a thrill up my spine.
This is a bad fucking idea.