Chapter 10
CHAPTER 10
L ogan felt Jess finally fall asleep in his arms. She’d cried deeply, sometimes sobbing in jerky spasms. It wasn’t a time to discuss how she was feeling, or to even talk at all. He understood women enough to know tears were an outlet, a release, for them and it was a good thing. Even SEALs cried, mostly when they lost one of their team members, but they did it alone and out of earshot of others. He lay there with her against him, her breath soft and shallow now across his upper chest. Grateful he could afford this type of protection for her; Logan knew it was going to help her get her feet back under herself more quickly as a result. Jess had to go back out to that valley. She had five wells to sink in five different villages. And she knew she and her crew were now at serious risk. Jumping straight back in the saddle was going to be more of a challenge for her than she currently realized.
Would this experience change her life even further, beyond the here and now? Logan had seen some SEALs’ whole demeanor shift and change, when wounded. SEALs felt they were invincible until that first gunshot wound. Many plowed through the experience and went on to remain solid operators. Others, it shook their whole world loose. They weren’t always as good as before. Every man was different. He slid his hand lightly down her forearm, her palm resting against his heart.
Worse, in many life-changing ways for his own proficiency as a warrior, Logan knew that what they shared was a helluva lot more than just good sex. Earlier, when Chris had sent out the radio warning to all of them that a Taliban attack was underway, all Logan could think about was protecting Jess. That, if something happened to her, it would cut through his world as nothing else ever had. From the moment he’d accidentally met her at Landstuhl, she had become a vital part of him, lodging deep in his heart. That was a blessing beyond imagining but could also be a curse for a warrior whose very role depended on them thinking only of their team.
Finally, Logan closed his eyes, willing himself to sleep because sleep was precious. A SEAL’s world was never safe. Chaos of one sort or another ruled. And it was always different, on a daily basis. But, for now, he decided to stow his concerns for the future away. To have the woman he loved in his arms, even for just one night, was an exquisite gift and he savored Jess next to him, her curves soft, her skin warm against his.
Jess awoke slowly, feeling as if she’d overslept by twelve hours or more, her mind barely functioning. At first, she didn’t know where she was until she sat up in bed and looked around. Her wounded arm protested loudly, and she grimaced, looking down at it. The dressing looked so glaringly white to her. The memories sluggishly came back to her. The room was empty. Logan wasn’t here, and she saw that his clothes he’d hung over the chair were gone, too. She heard the landing and takeoff of jets and helicopters outside. The reverberations could be felt like subtle, invisible waves rippling constantly across Bagram. Missing Logan, she looked down at his pillow. As before, there was a note sitting on it. Picking it up, she saw that it read: Jess, got up at 0700. Will be back by 0900. Got some things to do. Logan.
Setting the note back on the pillow, Jess looked at the clock on the dresser. It was 0830. He’d be back in half an hour. That would give her the time to get dressed and ready for her day over at Navy supply. She found out quickly that, with a cranky arm, unable to lift it very high, even trivial tasks became excruciating exercises in planning. That was rapidly becoming really depressing to her. She was generally a patient person by nature, but hauling on her trousers with one hand, and then struggling with the button and zipper one-handed to boot, were teeth-grinding chores. And getting her combat boots laced up was a completely frustrating fiasco. The pain was so bad that Jess finally caved in and took the Ibuprofen the doctor had given her, plus her daily dose of antibiotics. Going to the bathroom and brushing her mussed, but blessedly clean, hair was another acrobatic chore. She couldn’t even pull her hair into a ponytail at all. When she tried to force her wounded arm up higher, she almost fainted from the pain. It just refused to work. Frustration thrummed through Jess. She felt raw and vulnerable enough this morning, and then to not be able to even take care of herself properly, just added to that.
The door to their room opened and closed. Jess looked out the opened bathroom door, but couldn’t see the entrance from that angle.
“Logan?”
“Yeah, it’s me,” he called.
She saw him stop at the bathroom door. He looked so handsome; his face dark with stubble. SEALs generally didn’t shave every day, just the opposite out here, in fact. They grew beards and faded into the male Muslim population, not wanting to stand out. He was holding some sacks in his hand, mirroring their first morning together in Germany. Worry was in his eyes as he checked her over from head to toe.
“How are you feeling?”
“Rugged,” Jess admitted. “And very frustrated.” She held up the rubber band in her right hand. “I can’t even get my hair into a ponytail.” It came out more like a whine, and Jess hated sounding like that. It just wasn’t her. She saw him nod and put the sacks on the dresser.
Logan took the rubber band from her finger and gently turned her away from him. “Is there a special way to do this ponytail thing of yours?” he teased. He luxuriated in sliding his fingers through her brushed, shining black hair as he gathered it between his hands.
“No,” she said. “I feel so damned helpless, Logan. I hate this.”
“The first week after getting shot is always roughest,” he told her, quickly gathering up her thick hair and taming it into the ponytail she always wore. “There. Look okay?” and he smiled a little, trying to lighten the darkness he saw in the mirror’s reflection of her green eyes. Logan saw her mouth twitch, almost smile-like, but she was grumpy, for sure. He took it in stride.
“Looks great. I wonder what I’ll do when we’re back at the village? It took me nearly thirty minutes to dress myself. Thirty minutes, Logan! I usually dress in five.”
He turned her toward him, hands light upon her shoulders. “Give yourself some breathing room, Jess. It isn’t every day you get shot. And yes, you’re going to feel frustrated, angry, upset, irritable; all of the above. It all comes with the territory of getting wounded. Once we get back to the village, I can help you dress and undress, on the sly. You want me to get your sling? You’re looking pale.”
Nodding, she grumped, “Yes. Please? Hell, I can’t even put my own sling on by myself.”
He smiled a little, kissed her lips lightly and said, “Come on, I went over to the chow hall and got some breakfast food to go for us. I even have coffee.” He saw her eyes light up over that last comment.
Logan had her sit down in one of the two wooden chairs. He placed the dark green sling on her left arm, seeing immediate relaxation in Jess’s mouth, her pain lessening.
“Thanks,” she said, meaning it. Logan brought over a cup of coffee, took off the lid, and handed it to her. It smelled wonderful. He laid out an egg-and-bacon sandwich for her as well. Her stomach growled.
Logan sat down, absorbing her sleepy features. “Did you sleep solid last night?”
“Yes, thanks to you.” Jess gave him an apologetic look. “I wanted so badly to love you last night, Logan, but I had all these crazy emotions flying through me.”
He sat back, eating his own egg sandwich, coffee in the other hand. “It’s normal, Jess. You’re thinking like that because you feel like you’ve been emotionally beat to hell, that it’s not all right. But it is.”
“I remember last night you telling me you’d been wounded?” She searched his blue eyes. She saw worry in them for her. Care. Jess wasn’t sure how she’d have handled getting shot if Logan hadn’t been there in the breech, someone who cared deeply for her, to be her guide.
“Once here,” and he angled his jaw toward his left shoulder. “Six years ago. My first wound.”
“How did it affect you?”
“Like it’s affecting you right now,” he told her wryly, finishing off the first of his three sandwiches.
“Did you cry?”
“Not in front of anyone,” and he grinned a little. “But in private? Yeah, I had a few shakedowns with it. When the shock starts wearing off, Jess, that’s when you go through that roller coaster emotional hell. I thought I was invincible. I was a SEAL . I could do anything. But there I was, in the Bagram hospital with a shoulder wound. Stuck. Couldn’t go back to my platoon. Cut off from everyone I knew. And, like you, I was told it would take at least six weeks and a helluva lot of physical therapy before I would be released back into the field. I was NOT happy. In fact, I got really depressed. Waded through that shit for nearly three weeks. I was not a happy camper, believe me.”
She nibbled at the sandwich, not sure about her stomach. “I feel… raw.”
Logan nodded, giving her a sympathetic look. “You will for a while, Jess. It’s just part of the healing journey you’re going to take. What else are you feeling?”
She took in a ragged breath. “Honestly? Questioning what the hell am I doing out here? I’ve NEVER been attacked, or shot at, in my ten years as a Seabee. Oh, I know we’re trained to shoot and defend ourselves, but I guess… I guess, it’s been such a shock. First Dan being killed. And now me getting wounded.”
“Your world has been shattered, Babe. It has changed forever because of it.”
His words were softly spoken but Jess winced visibly over them. She stared at Logan; his face readable for her to search. “Did it shake your world this much when you got shot, Logan?”
“Yes. In every way. It’s a process and a journey, Jess. It’s one day at a time. Once I rejoined my platoon, it did a lot toward helping me through that emotional rough patch.” He shook his head, looking out the window through the drawn-back curtains. “When I was stuck here at Bagram, I went through my own personal and emotional hell.”
“I believe it. I just never thought of how getting wounded could affect a person.”
“Deeply,” he muttered. “What else is going on inside you?”
“Fear,” she admitted. “Fear of dying. You know I took out my chicken plates on my Kevlar vest. It was just too heavy for me to wear all day long. I’ve been thinking long and hard about that. If that bullet hadn’t hit my arm, it could have hit my body. I didn’t have the protection on that I needed.” She frowned, and looked away, her voice strained. “I could have died out there, Logan.”
“Yeah,” he murmured. He saw the tears in her eyes, and her lower lip quivered. Getting up, he took the mostly untouched sandwich from her hand and set it on the dresser. He came back, then crouched down in front of her, his hands resting on her knees, looking up into her haunted expression. “It’s a rough trip for you, Jess. You see yourself and your crew as doing something good that’s going to improve the lives of people. And you’ve had that reality up until very recently. You’ve been welcomed with open arms everywhere by villagers, until you got assigned to that particular valley, a Taliban area of heavy resistance.”
Nodding, she placed a hand on his. “You’re right. Ten years of feeling like the good guys, doing good things for people who have such a brutal, hardscrabble life… and then to get shot for trying to improve their lives. To get told we aren’t welcome even though what we’re doing for them is peaceful. And good. It will give them more food, improve the health of their babies…”
“Yeah, but these bastards’ reality is very different from yours. The real question, Babe, is will you adjust your reality or not? Some people, after they’re shot, it shatters them in every way. They lose themselves. They might spend a long time trying to recobble their life back together.” He turned his palm over, entangling his fingers with hers, gauging her reaction.
“Well,” Jess whispered rawly, “it’s sure spun me around, Logan. I guess the biggest thing for me is the fear of dying.”
“Yes,” he said, “and you don’t know how the end effect will be yet. You’re probably feeling unsure about even returning to the valley, about now?”
She nodded, avoiding his gaze. “I feel so ashamed about even thinking like that, Logan. I’m afraid… afraid to go back… it’s so cowardly of me….”
“No,” he said, “it’s normal. I went through that same process after I got shot. When I first started patrolling, after I got back to my platoon, I was so damn scared. I wasn’t sure I could do it anymore. I worried that, if I wasn’t focused, I would let my team down. Because SEALs work as a team. We need to have each other’s backs.” He kissed her hand and watched her eyes change, grow warm, some of the fear in them dissolving.
“What did you do?”
“Gutted through it, Jess. And so will you. We live scared after that. It’s the fear of dying. Fear of our life ending, when we have so much of it left that we don’t want to leave or give up.” Searching her dark green eyes, seeing the pain in them, Logan reached up, caressing her wan cheek. “I’ll be here for you, Jess. You have me to go to on a bad day or night. I’ll be your team member. I’ll have your back while you flounder through this shit.”
“I’m lucky and I know it,” she admitted in a strained tone, her skin tightening where he kissed it. “It’s just so—life changing…”
“I know it is.” Logan patted her hand, giving it back to her. “You’re going to be too hard on yourself. Try to be a little kinder? Let me help carry some of your load? I’m pretty good as a listener,” and he slowly rose, kissing the top of her head. “Come on, you need to eat. I know your stomach is probably on the fritz, but you need food for energy,” and he handed the egg sandwich back to her.
By mid-afternoon, Jess had gotten over to Navy supply and picked up the list of items that Lieutenant Parker had requested. Luckily, with Logan at her side, he could get the supplies into boxes and then take them over to the helicopter terminal and place them on the pallet that was going to be airlifted back to the unit. Jess knew she’d have had a hell of a time getting it all done with the way she felt. Even aside from compensating for her arm troubles, Logan knew the system at Bagram. She didn’t. They had stopped around noon, and eaten at one of the many chow halls on base. Her weakness disappeared as she ate. She knew she had to force herself to eat whether she had an appetite to or not, just in order to keep going. Right now, it was as if food was the LAST thing on her mind. Logan explained it was the shock. And he kept passing her protein bars from time to time, watching her start to regain her energy and her old strength back.
Jess had called her parents again, reassuring them that she was fine. They sounded more than relieved. In the twenty years her parents had been Navy Seabees, they’d never been shot at once. Jess didn’t share how she was really feeling because she knew they’d worry about her even more. She shrugged at the cocked eyebrow look Logan gave her after she finished the call.
“I don’t want them to worry.”
“I know. But I’m glad you’re honest with me .” Logan gazed into her green eyes, seeing some of the cloudiness was gone. Just getting back into a routine she knew and loved was helping her climb out of that dark shock. Jess gave him a look of gratefulness as they walked from the bus stop back toward the conjugal building.
“I’ll never NOT be honest with you, Logan.” Except that it was almost tearing out of her how much she was falling in love with him. They’d both had marriages that had failed. And they’d met under the worst of circumstances: in a war zone. What chance did she have of their love surviving? She’d just been shot. Who knew if there was another bullet waiting for her out there? It hurt to tuck away her feelings for Logan. Jess told herself she had to focus in on right now . Not the future. She saw Logan smile over at her, the now-familiar heat sheeting through her, holding her heart so gently. The other day, she’d seen him combat mode. It had been a startling difference from the Logan with her right now. More and more, Jess realized that when Logan was with her, he was truly himself: open, available, able to share with her. It made her body ache. It made her heart yearn for him. Only him. Forever.
Jess always felt a bit guilty when they passed the clerk’s office inside the conjugal building. Logan placed his hand on the small of her back, as if sensing her discomfort, guiding her to the elevator. Here, touching was permitted. And she hungrily absorbed it like an emotion thief.
In their room, she put her baseball cap on top of the dresser alongside Logan’s. She turned to him, sliding her good arm up and around his shoulder. “I want to make love with you,” she whispered, placing her mouth against his, feeling his instant reaction, his arms sliding around her. Logan was being careful with her. Jess had never known how much one damned wounded arm could be such a pain in the ass. But it was, and Logan was even more aware of the situation than she was.
“Are you sure?” he asked, brushing her lips, feeling her heat, feeling her move her hips against his.
“Positive.”
He lifted his head, studying her eyes. “You know that when we get back to the village, there will be times I can spend a night with you, Jess. I don’t want you thinking, just because we’re here, you have to make love to me. I need you to be really sure. Getting wounded does funny things to people. Most of all, they act out of character.” He wanted her so damn bad. The look in her green eyes, the dappled gold in their depths, told him she was emotionally where she needed to be. For him, that was a huge relief. There was nothing more bonding, nothing emotionally stronger, than being able to love Jess.
“I’m positive, Logan.” She gave him an amused look. “But you’re going to have to help me undress.” Logan’s mouth curved faintly, and she saw that feral look of his leap to his eyes. There was no question: he wanted her. Bad.
“I like getting my hands on you,” he rasped, leading her over to the chair. “Sit down. We’ll start with your boots.”
“I want to lose myself in you,” she whispered, her fingers grazing his short hair as he knelt over her boots.
Lifting his head, Logan growled, “Fair warning, Babe. You’re not leaving that bed with me until an hour before we have to get that flight tonight.”
All her fears, her trepidation and depression, dissolved beneath his low, guttural tone. Nothing had ever felt so right as being with Logan in this minute. And, after he shed her clothes, always mindful of her cranky arm, it was an equal pleasure watching him undress before her. Jess’s whole body began to vibrate inwardly with yearning, needing his touch, needing the pleasure she knew Logan would give her.
As she lay down on the bed, he knelt near her hip, pulling over another pillow, gently placing it beneath her left arm.
“This way,” he explained, “you might not be able to use it, but it will be supported, and you can focus on what I’m going to do to you.”
“I guess there will be no gymnastics this time?”
His mouth widened into a smile as he pushed the potentially entangling sheets and blankets safely toward the end of the bed. “No. I’m afraid it’s the good ole missionary position for you right now, Babe.” He saw her pout. Jess didn’t realize how sexy she looked when she pushed that lower lip of hers out like that.
“But I want to please you too, Logan.” It came out as almost a whine of frustration.
He laughed softly, laying down near her, propped up on one elbow, sliding his hand across her soft, rounded belly. “We’ll have other times,” he assured her. As he moved his fingers down across her left hip, across her curved, firm thigh, her eyes shuttered closed and he could feel her focused only on them. And that’s right where Logan wanted her. The hours that were left to them would be about giving back to Jess, supporting her shredded emotional state, gently sewing her back together again by tenderly loving her. As he slid his hand between her legs, and she opened to him, he heard her moan in anticipation. But, unthinkingly, she had automatically lifted her left arm to curve it around his shoulder.
Instantly, Jess grimaced, her arm frozen midair.
Logan placed his hand beneath the left elbow and said, “Relax it, let me guide it to the pillow.”
“I wasn’t thinking,” Jess muttered, shaking her head, giving him a look of apology.
He tucked the pillow back beneath her arm. “It happens, Jess. And it’s okay. Don’t be hard on yourself. Focus on me, okay?”
“That’s so easy to do,” she whispered, feeling foolish over having been so careless as to lift her arm. Now, it ached so much again that she was sure she couldn’t, even if she’d wanted to. Logan seemed unfazed by the gaff, but it bothered the hell out of her. Before she could think of anything else, however, his mouth came down upon hers, hot, hungry, and her entire world anchored to a scalding halt. If she’d thought Logan was going to be tepid about loving her, she’d been wrong. And that thrilled Jess, being equally starved for him in every way.