Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Jag watched Steff as she battled through her memories of her rescue and, he guessed, their recent reconnection. He’d said the same words to her both nights.
You’re safe.
Realistically, they were hollow words, because she may have been rescued, but the nightmare wasn’t over for her, and from what he’d seen a few nights ago, that rang true.
The trauma was still a huge part of her life, and always would be.
It would never go away. Experiences like that might dull over time, but they wouldn’t be erased.
“I’m sorry,” he said, after she asked how she didn’t know.
Her eyes flicked over, and he was happy to see she showed no signs of being down the tunnel of a PTSD attack. “What for?”
“I knew telling you it was me that night had the possibility of sending you into a panic attack.”
Steff nodded. “It might have done, but I could feel your leg against mine, and it kept me grounded. I should’ve recognized your voice at Teresa’s place. You were saying the same things over and over.”
“I wasn’t offended, if that’s what you’re concerned about. I wouldn’t have expected you to remember me. That night was traumatic for you. I’m sure we were all shadowy figures in your mind. Maybe even scary.”
He didn’t want to be scary to her, but accepted that would always be a possibility. It wasn’t anything he could change.
“You said you’d be truthful, and you deserve the same from me.
” She took hold of his hand again. He hadn’t missed the way she’d squeezed her own hand into a fist until her knuckles were white.
He also hadn’t missed how she’d filed her nails into sharp points.
Steff had on a short sleeve blouse and her arms were bare.
He couldn’t see any evidence that she was causing herself any harm, but he’d lock it away to bring up at another time—sensitively of course.
Or maybe Steff would bring it up herself.
“You’re right, in my dreams, even the good guys are scary. I don’t think they won’t stop being that way. I’m sorry.” She lowered her head as though she was ashamed for feeling that way.
“Aww honey, you don’t have to be ashamed. I don’t blame you for feeling that way. We were decked out in all black. Of course we looked scary.”
“I know. It’s just… I don’t want to think of you like that all the time.”
Jag considered what she was saying. “Did you think of me as scary before I told you it was me that night?”
Steff worked the corner of her lower lip with her teeth. Was it another way for her to feel pain, or was it a natural nervous reaction?
Stop it. Don’t make everything out to be more than it is.
His inner voice was right. Just because he’d seen something and had come to one conclusion, didn’t mean the conclusion was right.
“No,” she answered. “If anything, I’ve felt safer than I have in a while.”
“Then I think, and I’m no therapist, but slowly your mind will reinforce that feeling, so if you do find yourself feeling that way, part of your brain will pull you back and remind you that you are safe with me.
” He framed her face, so she could understand he was speaking from his soul.
“You are safe with me. I will always be your safe haven.”
He swallowed the words he wanted to say about always keeping her safe, because in his line of work, he’d seen it wasn’t always possible to keep that promise.
That no matter how much he did or precautions he put in place for her, something could always happen.
He wished with every fiber of his being that he could make it true though.
He may not say it out loud to her, but he made the vow to himself.
Her hands covered his, and she smiled sweetly. “I know. You’ve proven that a couple of times already that I am safe with you.”
They sat there for a few moments, looking into each other’s eyes, his hands on her face, and hers over his. It wasn’t uncomfortable like he thought it might be, it was natural, as if they’d always done it.
“I should go,” he said eventually, dropping his hands even though he didn’t want to stop touching her. “It’s getting late, and I’ve got to get up early for PT.” He didn’t care if he was tired as he ran down the beach, being with Steff had been totally worth it.
“What’s that?”
“Physical training. We may have chaptered out of the Navy, but we still need to be in pique condition for the missions we go on. We would be no good if we weren’t.”
“I suppose not,” she murmured.
Jag knew he had to get off the couch and leave, but he was having difficulty making the move. “Thanks for tonight. I enjoyed spending time with you.”
“Me too. And thanks for feeding me for the next couple of nights.”
He laughed. “Thai always tastes better the next day.”
“So, you say. I guess I’ll find out.”
“You will.” Jag pushed up from the couch and crossed the room to the kitchen where he picked up his bag of food, aware that Steff had moved and was standing by the couch.
He wanted to kiss her, but knew that would be too much for her. But a peck on the cheek or the forehead wouldn’t be too much, would it?
“Well now, this has got kind of awkward, hasn’t it?” Steff’s words surprised him; he didn’t expect her to say anything like that.
“Can I kiss you?” That wasn’t what he meant to say, even though it had been on his mind.
Her eyes widened, and a flash of apprehension appeared, and he wished that he’d kept his thoughts bottled down. Usually, he had a little more finesse than he was currently displaying. “I’m sorry, forget I said that.”
She shook her head, her blonde hair swinging side to side. “No. It was just unexpected.”
He closed the small gap between them, keeping his fingers tight around the bag so that he didn’t touch her.
“I didn’t miss how that turned you apprehensive.
I don’t want that. I’m not going to rush you into anything you’re not comfortable with.
We’re two people getting to know each other, and we can take however long you need.
” Jag couldn’t stop himself, he had to show her, along with the words, that he was totally fine with it.
He popped the bag on the ground and lightly brushed his fingers down her arm until he reached her fingertips, and he held them there against hers.
Her hand twitched, and he thought for a second she would pull it away, but she kept it where it was. There was nothing sexual about the touch, but the feelings strumming through him were intense, as if they’d just shared an explosive kiss.
“Thank you. I can’t talk about—”
“Shh, I know you can’t. I don’t expect you to unless you want to.”
“Okay.”
Any idea of kissing her on the forehead or the cheek disappeared. There would be time for that side of their burgeoning relationship to build up to. “Have a good sleep and, I don’t need to say it, but lock the door after me.”
“You sleep well too. And I will.”
Jag picked his food up, and in a few paces was at the front door. He waited for Steff to unlock it and open the door for him. He wasn’t going to take liberties that weren’t his to take.
“I had a good night tonight, Jag.” Then she surprised him by raising up on her toes and kissing him on the cheek.
“I did too. Do you want me to text you when I get home?” He didn’t know why he asked that, but thought it was necessary.
“Thanks, I would.”
He could stand there all night, delaying the moment he left. But he wouldn’t. He needed sleep and so did Steff. “Don’t forget to lock it after me. Night.”
“Night.” Steff nodded and then closed the door. He waited until he heard the tell-tale click of the lock engaging, and the slide of the chain.
Unlike when he arrived, the hair on the back of his neck remained flat and nothing twigged his instincts that something was out of the ordinary.
He tried to convince himself that it was nerves about spending time with Steff, but he couldn’t discount that he had felt something was off.
He just didn’t know what.