Chapter 30
CHAPTER THIRTY
“Into each life some rain must fall…” ~Louisa May Alcott, Little Women
T he weight of Noah asleep atop her was as cozy as a down comforter. They’d remained intertwined with each other since falling asleep. His arms draped over her waist, and his head rested on her chest.
“Good morning,” he murmured.
“You’re awake?”
Raising his head, he looked at her. “I woke up a few minutes ago, but I didn’t want to move.”
“I like waking up with you.” She sighed with happy contentment. As much as she hated what he experienced last night, she loved waking up in his arms.
A sweet smile bloomed across his face. “I like waking up with you too.”
“How are you feeling?” She brushed her fingers into his sleep-rumpled hair.
“I’m okay… Thank you.” Gratitude shaded his blue eyes. “I’m sorry about last night.”
“There’s no need to apologize.” She combed through his hair.
He nodded. “I just wish it wasn’t part of being with me.”
“I hate that you went through what you did in the service and that it pulls you back at times. I can’t take away what happened to you, or its power to steal you away, but never doubt my ability to be there with you just as you are for me.”
An almost painful fullness clogged her chest. It hurt as much as it offered a sense of completeness. She’d never felt like this with, or for, anyone. The realization of how deeply she cared for this man trembled within her.
“You are so strong.” He shifted in the bed, pressing his lips against hers.
“I’m your warrior, and you’re mine,” she said between seeking kisses.
She couldn’t get enough of him. It was like being pulled in different directions. Both longing for and achieving the completeness of them. It terrified and exhilarated her…as if she soared in the sky, the vast view below, but the fear of falling still loomed.
She knew that as Noah would never let her fall, she’d never let him. Even if there was a part of her that knew she’d already fallen and there was no way she’d ever be able to get back up.
“Noah,” she said with breathless want. The words were trapped inside her, not ready to come out. But her body could express every syllable. Every unsaid feeling that filled her chest.
“I know, baby. I know what you need. What I need,” he rasped, trailing kisses down her neck.
She submerged herself into his exploring mouth. Its heat raked down her, licking down her breasts to her belly button and lower. Her back arched. Every inch of her pulsed awake, yearning for more.
Threading her fingers in his silken hair, she guided him to where she wanted him. A greedy shiver slid through her with the first lick against her clit. With every flick of tongue, and hard suck, wildfire blazed within her. The delicious pressure spooled tighter and tighter…until she exploded.
Aftershocks still rolled through her as he plunged deep inside her. She dug her nails into his back. The satisfying fullness of him inside her engulfed her. He pulled back out, stealing away that fullness she craved. Just as she opened her mouth to protest, he drove back into her.
She gasped an unintelligible stream of curses. Tension-filled pleasure seized her.
“You like that, baby?” he growled.
“Yes,” she whimpered as he did it again.
With a relentless rhythm, he tipped her closer to the edge. Shifting their position, he draped her legs over his shoulders, seating himself completely in her.
The coiled pleasure was almost too much… Almost .
“Noah!” she screamed, her limp arms and legs clung to him, fearing that if she let go, she’d be lost.
“Fuck,” he grunted and collapsed in a sated heap atop her.
Uncurling her legs from his shoulders, he pulled out of her. Cradled close, his fingers soothed along her spine. Despite the settling breaths, emotions thrummed within her. This man was becoming both the anchor that kept her grounded and the balloon that allowed her to fly. He’d always been there, but now it was so much more than it had been and what she’d dreamed it could be.
“You always have me,” she murmured, caressing his cheek
His piercing gaze bore into her. “And I always will. Just as you’ll always have me” A reverent kiss sealed their joint declaration.
He had her, and she had him. They had each other.
Satiated and quiet, they lay in each other’s arms. The pads of his fingers skated along her spine. Each stroke punctuated their mutual belonging; her with him and he with her.
“The dreams don’t come every night,” Noah whispered, breaking their silent post-sex cocoon.
His gaze shifted to the ceiling. She followed, allowing her stare to meander along the white crown molding. Streaks of light from the half-closed curtains crisscrossed with the lingering shadows of the dim room.
“Most nights, I don’t sleep. I think because I’m trying to avoid the dreams from coming. I’m never sure when they’ll come. There are things that trigger panic attacks or nightmares. Certain smells…campfires and cooking meat…” He swallowed hard, cutting himself off.
She wove her fingers into the dark hair peppering his chest. “You don’t have to say it if you don’t want to, but I can handle it if you want to tell me about it.”
He turned his head, looking at her. “I know you can. You’re my warrior.”
They lay there for another hour talking. Noah shared his burdens with her. How the dreams would sneak in like a thief in the night, stealing away restful peace. How certain triggers, stressful events, or anniversaries caused his symptoms to flare. There were tricks and exercises he used to cope with his PTSD. How he’d never been able to fall into a restful sleep after a panic attack like he’d done last night.
“Why do you think you were able to sleep last night?” she asked.
His fingers traced along her hairline. “You. I told you…you’re my lighthouse, guiding me out of the darkness. Once I found you, I knew I was safe.”
The proclamation stole her breath. He said he wanted to be her everything, but at that moment, she realized that she was his everything. Nat snuggled in tight. If she could have crawled inside Noah, she would have. But she also knew that she couldn’t save him from this.
“I don’t think it was just me. I helped, but I didn’t?—"
He stole her words with a tender kiss. “I know. As much as I feel safe with you, I know that our relationship won’t cure my PTSD. I still need to do the work to manage it. I have an appointment with my VA counselor this week. I never miss my appointments.”
“When did you first start seeing a counselor?”
A soft laugh left his lips. “After Clayton told me to get my shit together.”
“What?” she guffawed. “Clayton told you to get your shit together? When? Why?”
The idea of her brother telling anyone to get their shit together was astounding. In her twenty-eight years, he’d teased her but never been so harsh or frank. Clayton seemed to have an endless supply of quiet patience for the people he loved. The only time she’d seen him be curt was with the guys she’d dated.
“After I was discharged from Walter Reed and transferred back to Camp Pendleton, your brother flew out to San Diego to see me. We went to a bar and some guy bumped into him, spilling Clayton’s drink. The guy didn’t apologize. My fuse was so short then. I lost it and grabbed the guy by the collar and slammed him against the wall.”
Nat’s eyes closed, remembering Noah slamming Duncan against the building. If provoked, the beast inside this gentle, kind man would come out. A fierce protectiveness rested just below the surface, but it seldom came out like that. What he’d described was as if his protective nature was on hyperdrive.
“Clayton pulled me off the guy. When your brother grabbed me, I shoved him to the ground. I didn’t realize what I was doing. He and a bouncer at the bar dragged me outside. I don’t know how, but Clayton convinced them not to call the police. After, we sat on a curb, and your brother told me I needed to get my shit together. That I wasn’t the man I wanted to be. He was right.”
“You went after that?”
Noah shook his head. “No. I still thought I could just get over it. I was a Marine. I’m still a Marine. Once a Marine always… well, you know. My dad was in the corps too, so I grew up in a house where we didn’t do the touchy-feely thing.”
“What finally pushed you?”
Their gazes weaved together. “You. That Friday, you called for our weekly check-in. I just kept thinking about how I shoved your brother to the ground and…” Concern creased his brow “…What if I’d done that to you? What if it was my mom? I hadn’t hurt Clayton, but I could have.”
It seemed preposterous to her that Noah could lose control. When she placed her hand on Noah to release Duncan, he relented. Rage hadn’t overpowered him. As angry as Noah was, he still had control. The only danger Nat was in was from Duncan, never from Noah.
“I didn’t want to hurt the people I care about because I was too stubborn to get help. So, I started seeing a counselor on base, and when I was discharged, I went to the VA.”
She leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to the center of his chest. “I’m in awe of you. Most people wouldn’t tackle things so head on.”
Most people included her. Besides a few sessions with the school guidance counselor after Evan died, she’d never talked about it. Those sessions were spent smiling and saying, “It’s all good.” She’d never dealt with the grief and guilt outside of her confession to Noah.
Nobody in her family had. They never brought Evan up in front of their parents out of fear of their mom’s reaction. Hell, Clayton and Nat barely spoke about Evan with each other.
She sighed. “I wish I was as brave as you.”
He ran his fingers through her messy tendrils. “You are. You just need to let yourself be.”
“I worry that even if I’m brave enough to talk to someone about Evan, that my parents…well, my mom isn’t ready.”
Noah shifted in bed, lying on his side so that they faced each other. “My mom says your mom hasn’t talked about him since he died.”
“I had a picture on my desk of the entire family on my eighteenth birthday. Clayton had driven down from Ithaca and Evan from Buffalo. It was the last time we were all together. It was our last complete Owens’ Family picture.”
Nat closed her eyes, picturing Evan’s full-faced grin as he stood next to her in the photo. Frowns, firm lines, and even grimaces were such a rare thing on his face which always had a beaming smile.
Opening her eyes, she whispered, “I put the picture in my desk drawer the other day.”
“To protect your mom?”
“You saw her on Sunday. Evan’s name was mentioned, and she…”
It was hard to describe what happened to her mom when Evan was brought up. It was like someone else took over her body. The warmth in her gray eyes and the lightness in her smile disappeared.
“When Evan died, she fell apart. She only got out of bed to attend his funeral. She spent weeks in bed. It wasn’t until my graduation that she finally started living again. I remember she was upstairs getting ready. Clayton and I were downstairs. Dad came into the living room and asked us to not bring Evan up, so we didn’t. We never spoke of him again. When Clayton mentioned him last Sunday, it was the first time in ten years he was brought up. Clayton and I hardly speak of Evan. It’s like he never existed, but at the same time, he’s everywhere.”
“You deserve to talk about your brother. Evan deserves to be talked about. Hell, he would have insisted on it.”
A watery laugh escaped her. “He did like being the center of attention.”
“He did.” Wistfulness glinted in his eyes.
The only other people in the world who knew Evan as well as Nat, her parents, and Clayton, were Noah and his parents. Evan was three years younger than Noah and Clayton. He was the little brother who tagged along with them. It warmed her heart that she could talk to someone who knew Evan as well as she did. She didn’t need to introduce Evan to Noah like with others. It made it easier to be open with her feelings.
Although, so many of her unspoken emotions seemed to be said with Noah. His presence was like coming home. With him, she was safe. She could be her. The woman who came out behind the closed door of her home. The home where she could be unapologetically Nat. Messy. Sassy. Sad. Happy. Goofy. Grieving. Self-doubting. He didn’t seem to just accept her but revel in all that she was and wasn’t.
“Did you know when I turned sixteen, he drove down from Buffalo to surprise me at school? I was in the cafeteria when he showed up with sixteen balloons, all different colors, and a car-shaped cake. He sang ‘Happy Birthday’ at the top of his lungs in the middle of the lunchroom. I was so embarrassed, but my girlfriends went gaga for him.”
Noah laughed. “He was such a ham.”
“It was sweet, though. He sat there eating cake with me and my friends during lunch. After school, he picked me up, and we shoved all those balloons into his Chevy Cobalt.” Her entire body rumbled with the memory of the balloons slapping against their heads as they pulled out of the school’s parking lot.
“You know the first Christmas I came back on leave from the Marines, he gave me a signed, framed picture of himself?”
She snorted. “I forgot about that!”
Noah’s hand moved to her mouth, tracing her lips. “I know you worry about your mom, but if this smile is any indication, you need to talk about Evan. The good memories…” His hand trailed down to her heart, placing his warm palm on it. “…and the sadness and loss in here. You deserve to grieve properly.”