Chapter 4 #4
Bernie couldn’t imagine a young boy witnessing his father hitting his mother and not being able to stop him. He was right. It was better to be fatherless than to live in fear for yourself and someone you love.
“He swore I’d never amount to anything. He said I was stupid, like my mother.
” He shook his head. “I vowed that I would prove him wrong. As soon as I graduated high school, I joined the Marines and got the hell out of his house. I pushed myself hard to be the best in everything I did. When I applied for Marine Force Recon training, I was accepted and fought my way through . It wasn’t as hard for me as some of the others.
I never had it easy. My father made sure of that. ”
Bernie’s heart hurt for Gerard. Growing up without a father didn’t mean she’d grown up without love. Her mother had loved her with all her heart, and her grandparents had showered their only granddaughter with affection.
“I knew I could make it through the training if I just kept putting one foot in front of the other,” Gerard said.
“All the while, I saved every cent I made until I had enough to pay for a good lawyer and put a down payment on a house in Gulfport, Mississippi. I took two weeks' leave, showed up at my father’s house in Lafayette, packed up my mother and brother and moved them to Gulfport.”
Bernie’s eyes widened. “Your father didn’t try to stop you?”
Gerard’s jaw hardened. “He tried.”
Bernie sat up straight, her heart beating faster. “And?”
“Let’s just say I let him have the first swing.
I only hit him once. It surprised me how easily he went down.
The man who’d seemed larger than life and could knock me across the room as a kid was a lightweight with a full-grown man.
” He drew in a breath and let it out slowly.
“I told him if he ever bothered my mother or brother again, I wouldn’t go as easy on him. ”
“How long has it been?” Bernie asked.
“Ten years.”
“And your mother and brother?” she persisted.
“Mom got her divorce within a couple of months. She went to college and got a degree and now works as a counselor for victims of abuse.”
Bernie’s heart swelled. “Your brother?”
Gerard smiled. “Mason earned a college degree in engineering and joined the Army as a butter-bar, second lieutenant.”
“What about you?” Bernie’s voice softened. “I assume you’re not married. Is that a valid assumption?”
He nodded.
“Were you ever?” She held her breath, wanting to know what kind of woman could have broken his heart.
“No.” Gerard met her gaze. “I vowed never to marry.”
Bernie blinked. “Why? You’re nice-looking, strong and successful. Any woman would be happy to say I do.”
His lips quirked for a second, then flatlined. “I’m the product of my mother and father. I have my father’s genes as well as my mother’s in me. “I couldn’t live with myself if I turned out to be an abuser like him.”
“That’s ridiculous. Have you ever hit a woman?” she asked.
He shook his head. “No. But I’ve never let one close long enough to get angry with her.”
“You’re not your father, Gerard. You proved that when you moved your mother out of his house and was restrained enough to hit him only once.”
“I wanted to hit him again.” Gerard’s hands bunched into fists. “And I wanted to keep hitting him until his face was a bloody mess.”
She touched his arm. “But you didn’t. You have the control he lacked. You’re not like him.”
“I can’t take that chance. I’d never forgive myself if I hurt a woman.” He pushed to his feet and took several steps away, putting physical and emotional distance between them. “It’s getting late, and we have a busy day tomorrow.”
Bernie didn’t press the issue. She knew in her heart Gerard was nothing like his father. The few short hours she’d known him had made it clear. He had a gruff exterior, but inside, he was kind, caring and capable of so much love.
He needed a special woman to bring him out of his shell.
In the very back of her mind, a voice whispered, I wish it could be me.
Ignoring the voice, she bid him good night. “The window air conditioner in the living room hasn’t worked since last summer. I leave the bedroom door open to keep it cool in here.”
“Do you know what’s wrong with it?” he asked.
She nodded. “It’s shot. I bought a new one but haven’t had time to install it.
One of these days, when I get the money, I want to put in a whole new air conditioning system.
But that’s way down the list of priorities.
So, I apologize if it’s too warm in here to sleep.
I’ll leave the bedroom door open, though. ”
“I’ve slept in worse places,” he assured her.
“Well, then, good night.” She strode for the master bedroom and paused in the doorway. “Thank you for being here for me. And, for the record, I don’t think you could hurt a woman. You’re not your father.” Bernie dove through the door without waiting for his response.
In the dark, with only starlight shining through an open curtain to guide her, she crossed to the air conditioning window unit.
After adjusting it to a cooler setting, she aimed the vents toward the open door, hoping it would help cool the living room for Gerard.
The hum of the motor made it difficult for her to hear disturbances outside the house or even the sound of movement in the other room.
No wonder someone had been able to lay Gertrude’s body on her porch without her knowing.
She’d brought Howey in for that night, and he’d slept on the floor at the foot of her bed.
Tonight, she’d made it a point to leave him outside. She might not hear someone placing a dead goose on her porch over the air conditioner's hum, but she’d hear the bay of her hound dog if anyone tried to get close to the house.
Bernie stood in the darkness, shimmied out of her bra and readjusted her T-shirt before lying across her bed on top of the sheets, too warm to slip beneath them. Her room was cool enough, but her blood ran hot through her veins.
A tall, handsome, intriguing man lay on the couch in the other room in a thin T-shirt and gym shorts.
Ray had been the same height as Bernie. She’d always felt on equal footing with him. Standing near Gerard made her tip her head back, leaving her feeling a little off-balance. Or was she off-balance because he made her pulse quicken and her breathing more labored?
Bernie lay staring up at the ceiling, wide awake and far too aware of the man in the other room. She’d loved her husband and grieved his loss, but she was still young enough to want a man’s touch and the intimacy of lying naked, skin to skin.
Images of the day flood her mind.
Gertrude’s limp body on the porch.
A Marine showing up to help.
Penelope the pig running rampant in the watermelon patch.
The foot.
A ring.
Harvesting melons with a team of former military hunks.
A man sleeping in her house after three years of being on her own.
Her core aching with a need she’d long since set aside.
Moaning softly, she rolled onto her side and squeezed her eyes shut. She needed sleep, not sex.