Chapter 31
Two weeks later, Damon looked out the window at the gray sky. He was tired of being cooped up. Tired of watching TV. And tired of feeling like he didn't belong here. Other than fresh paint and some new decor, little had changed in the house, but it didn't feel like home anymore.
He balled his fist then flexed his fingers.
He belonged with his unit. He couldn’t help feeling like he’d them down.
Romero, Flores, and Doc needed him. He’d even be glad to see Howie if it meant he could be back with what was left of his unit again.
They were the only ones who could understand the pain of loss that he suffered.
He wanted to go for a jog—or even a walk—but he didn't trust himself to go out alone yet. Asking one of his brothers to take him for a walk made him feel like a child.
He kicked his left foot up, examining his new prosthesis. He'd only had it for three days and was still getting used to it.
Grace didn’t seem to be bothered by his leg.
Not when she came to the hospital that first time when he was having such a hard time accepting that part of it was missing.
Not when she saw his scarred stump before he pulled the prosthetic sleeve and liner on.
And not when he walked out of the prosthetic place holding onto her arm for stability.
He didn't offer to buy her dinner that day, because he was afraid he'd enjoy it as much as he did last week. Dark movie theaters and intimate dinners made it impossible for him to keep his feelings for Grace in check.
He needed to keep his distance from Grace. That's why he hadn't responded to her texts the last few days.
A knock sounded on the door before it opened, then in walked Grace, holding a wiggly Lily in one arm and a bag of groceries in the other. The sight of her took his breath away. She looked stunning in a red blouse and dark blue jeans.
"Hi," she said, a breathless quality to her voice.
He wanted to ask her why she kept coming over but that sounded rude.
"Good, you're here." Mom walked into the living room from the direction of her bedroom, still putting in her earrings. She turned to Damon. "I'm headed over to Faith's for the evening, so Grace has graciously agreed to keep you company."
"I'm not a child. I don't need a babysitter."
She walked over and patted his cheek. "Oh, I know you don't, dear, but if you want dinner tonight, you'd better be nice to Grace." Her gaze darted to the window. "Time for me to go." Then she waved over her shoulder and walked out the front door.
Damon felt his brows pull together. Why did she leave by the front door and not through the garage? Faith's house was easily within walking distance, but it was cold enough that Mom should drive.
Was she wearing a dress?
His gaze shifted to Grace who looked like a timid cat cowering in the corner.
The sound of a car door closing followed by a second door drew his attention to the window.
He shifted on the couch and watched as a dark gray sedan backed out of the driveway.
He caught sight of his mother in the passenger seat but didn't get a good look at the driver.
"Where's my mother going?"
"Faith's house." Grace shrugged as she set the dog down.
Lily beelined for him, and he couldn't help himself; he scooped her up in his arms and dug his fingers into her soft fur as she gave him kisses.
"But someone picked her up, and she was wearing a dress.
" He pushed to his feet, almost toppling over with Lily's added weight. "Why was she wearing a dress?"
"Probably because it's Valentine's Day." She spoke over her shoulder as she walked toward the kitchen.
Valentine's Day?
How had he not realized what day it was? Not that he would have done anything different than what he'd done, which was watch TV. It's not like he had a Valentine to shower with gifts.
You could have one if you wanted.
He put Lily down and followed Grace, her sunshine and floral scent permeating his senses. "Is that why my mom asked you to come over? Is she playing matchmaker?"
"She didn't ask me to come over. I volunteered."
Her honesty threw him off. He'd expected her to act defensive or even a little guilty.
"Why?"
"I thought you might enjoy tamales for dinner." She lifted one shoulder in another half shrug.
He loved tamales, especially Grace's. He hadn't had them since they made them with her mother shortly before he deployed. Then it hit him. Grace was wearing the same red shirt she wore the day he took her horseback riding. The one that set off her gorgeous brown eyes and dark hair.
His mom and Grace were conspiring with each other. He wanted to think he was immune to what they were doing, but he wasn't. Not even close.
He forced his mind back to his mom again. "Is my mom...on a date?"
The prospect was so foreign to him that voicing it sounded strange.
"Probably." Another shrug.
He was getting tired of all the shrugging. How could she pretend that being in the same room as him didn't faze her, when it was driving him crazy.
"Who is she with?"
"She's with Dwight—no wait. Faith is dating Dwight Franklin." Grace pulled ingredients from her bag. “Charity is seeing Clive Warner."
Neither name was familiar to him.
"They're on a double date?" Damon shook his head, unable to believe what he was hearing.
"Do you have a problem with that?" There was no censure in her voice, only concern. "Your mom and Faith are only in their early sixties. They have a lot of life ahead of them still. You don't want them to be alone for the next thirty years, do you?"
"No, of course not. It's just..." Damon didn't know how to finish his sentence. He was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that his mom was dating and he wasn't.
And whose fault is that?
"How..." He shook his head. "How did this come about?"
"Your mom and Faith did a Twelve Days of Christmas dinners for several widows and widowers in December. When you visit someone so often, you find out you have some things in common." She looked at him then. "And realize you're not the only one who is lonely."
Lonely?
Was that why his mom and Aunt Faith were always looking for people to serve? Because they were lonely?
Leaning against the counter, he watched Grace move confidently around the kitchen gathering the things she needed. She looked at home. He recalled the cinnamon rolls she made to welcome him home and realized she probably was.
He cleared his throat. "Thank you for the cinnamon rolls you made when I came home. They were really good."
She spared him a glance and a dazzling smile as she started chopping onions. "I'm glad you enjoyed them. I was afraid they wouldn't taste as good as your mom's."
"I never thanked you for accompanying my mom every time she flew to Maryland either. It means a lot to me."
She quirked an eyebrow at him, no doubt remembering the way he’d glowered at her each time he spotted her at the rehab center.
“I’m sorry if my being there bothered you, but...I just couldn’t stay away.” She looked up from her chopping. "I'd do anything for you Damon. When are you going to see that?"
"Grace, I can't—"
"Before you deployed," she cut him off. "You visited my mom almost every day while I was at work. Why?"
Because I was in love with you and wanted to get to know your family.
Damon clenched his jaw to keep from blurting out the words. Tension filled the air as the silence stretched between them.
Grace gave him a knowing look. "That's why I spend so much time with your mom." Then she turned her back to him, busying herself at the stove.
Damon struggled to breathe as he reminded himself that he had too much going on in his head to give Grace his whole heart.
Deciding it was best to put some distance between them.
He stepped away from the counter, intending to leave the kitchen.
His left leg caught on something and refused to move, but his body was already in motion.
He staggered but failed to plant his prosthesis properly. It slid out from under him. Lily yelped as he went down, smacking his head against the cabinet so hard he saw stars.
The air grew thick and heavy around Damon as the threat of danger closed in on him. His heart took off like a jet taking flight.
No. Wait.
“Identify five things you can see.” Damon heard Emily’s voice in his head as she taught him the 5-4-3-2-1 Sensory Grounding Exercise that was supposed to help him redirect his anxiety. “Then four things you can touch.”
Taking a deep breath, he squeezed his eyes shut then opened them. Focusing on the exercise, he looked at the refrigerator, the light switch...
"Damon, are you okay?" Grace knelt over him, her eyes wide and concerned.
He studied her face. Her big, brown eyes, rosy lips, and beauty mark were much more interesting than light switches.
A soft hand cupped his cheek. "I'm so sorry. Lily hasn't learned not to play around people's feet yet."
Hearing her name, Lily pushed her head under Grace's arm and licked his face.
There is no danger. Just an annoying but cute little dog.
But Damon wouldn’t mind continuing the anxiety-reducing exercise by touching four things, starting with Grace.
Shoving those thoughts to the back of his mind, he pushed the dog away and sat up. When the room swam, he grabbed Grace’s arm to steady himself. "Whoa."
"Slowly now. You hit your head pretty hard." Grace crouched close enough he could smell her floral perfume despite the onions she’d been chopping a moment ago.
He looked at her lips again. More than anything in the world, he wanted to kiss them.
No. I can't.
"I'm fine." He pushed away from her but struggled to get his left leg under him.
Having no sensation in his foot and an ankle that didn't bend made it difficult to find the correct placement of his prosthesis.
In the rehab center, he practiced standing with only one leg, but the added weight and length of the prosthetic made it more difficult than usual.