Chapter 8
Wait till you see the view from my office,” I say, glancing over at Bridget beside me in the pickup truck cab.
The road up King Mountain winds through dense alpine forest, giving way to sweeping valley vistas below.
Her smile is radiant as she looks at me. She reaches over to stroke my arm, and heat flares through me at her touch. God, I want her in my arms again. But I know we need to talk first. My chest tightens. I’m not good at baring my soul. The only person I’ve opened up to is my VA therapist, and I haven’t even told him everything going on in my head. But I know if I want a real future with Bridget, I’ve got to do this.
I tighten my hands on the steering wheel and work to steady my nerves. Lush green scenery blurs past the windows.
“It’s so beautiful up here,” Bridget says as my truck climbs higher up the mountain. “I can see why you love it.”
“Yeah.” My voice is gruff. “The mountain is...a special place.”
I steal another glance at her. She’s gazing out at the dramatic landscapes, eyes full of wonder. Happiness blooms in my chest. I want to share my world with her. My real world. I want her to be a part of it.
The truck bounces into the lookout’s small parking area, and I cut the engine. Bridget is already opening her door, excitement on her face as she hops out.
“Oh, wow, Moses! This place is stunning.”
She spins in a slow circle, drinking in the majestic forest rising all around us. Pride swells in my chest. I’m so glad she likes it here.
“I knew this mountain was here, but I’ve never been up here before,” she marvels. “It’s incredible!”
“Sure is,” I agree, coming around to join her. “Best office view in the county.”
Bridget laughs, and the sound is pure sunshine. “No arguments here! You’re a lucky man, Moses Butcher.”
“Starting to feel that way,” I say, giving her a meaningful look.
A pretty blush pinks her cheeks. The urge to take her in my arms again is powerful. I need to tell her what she’s come to mean to me, even in this short time. But I know I need to do this right.
I nod toward a narrow trail. “Want to take a short walk? There’s an even better view a little ways in.”
“Actually, I’d love to sit if that’s okay. It’s been a long day.”
“Sure thing. The lookout has a great deck. C’mon.”
I lead the way up the wooden steps and motion her to one of the chairs on the deck.
“Have a seat. I’ll grab us a blanket and something to drink.”
“Sounds perfect.” She smiles up at me.
Inside, I pause to take a deep, centering breath. My gut’s a jumble of nerves and anticipation. I know I’m on the cusp of changing my life forever, for better or worse. God, I hope it’s for the better...
I snag a thick wool blanket and a bottle of whiskey, tucking two enamel mugs under my arm. Then I square my shoulders and head back out to Bridget.
I pour Bridget a generous two fingers of whiskey into one of the mugs. Her slender fingers brush mine as she accepts it, sending sparks racing up my arm. She takes a small sip, coughing lightly at the potent burn.
“Whoa! That’s, um...intense.” She laughs, her eyes watering.
“Too much? I can get you something else—”
“No, no, it’s fine.” She bravely lifts the mug again. “When in Rome, right?”
I pour myself a hefty belt, needing the liquid courage for what I’m about to do. The smoky bite centers me.
“Bridget, I...” The words catch in my throat. “We should talk.”
She nods, her expression sobering. “Okay. What’s on your mind?”
I blow out a breath. “Are you...alright about your ex getting engaged?”
Surprise flashes across her face. “Oh! Yes, I’m fine. Really. It was just a bit of a shock hearing the news, is all. It brought up a lot of feelings for me, but I’m over him.”
Relief courses through me. “Good, that’s...that’s real good.”
“Why do you ask?” Her head tilts curiously.
“Because I needed to know. Before...” I reach for her hands, cradling them tenderly between my rougher ones. “Bridget, there’s nothing more certain than how I feel about you. Meeting you, getting to know you...You’re bringing light back into my world. I know it’s soon, crazy even, but…I have zero doubts you’re the woman I want in my life. For the long haul.”
Her eyes widen and I make myself continue before I lose my nerve.
“If that blind fool of an ex couldn’t see the rare gem he had in you, that’s his loss. But I see you, Bridget. I see the magnificent, compassionate, talented woman that you are. And I’ll be damned if I let you slip through my fingers. Not unless you look me in the eye and tell me to leave you be.”
My heart pounds wildly against my ribs as I pause, terrified and hopeful and so damn in love I can hardly breathe. I search Bridget’s face, praying she feels the same way I do.
Bridget’s eyes glisten in the twilight. “Oh, Moses. I feel it, too. This connection between us...I’ve never experienced anything like it. It takes my breath away.” She draws a shaky breath. “You’re right. We barely know each other yet, but somehow...somehow, you already feel so important to me.”
I exhale heavily, the adrenaline rush making my entire body vibrate. Hearing that Bridget feels the same way about me is intoxicating.
Slowly, reverently, she lifts a hand to cradle my jaw, soft fingers caressing the stubble. “I’m not going anywhere,” she vows fiercely. “I see you, too—the strong, soulful, powerful man you are. And I want to be right here. With you.”
Overwhelmed by the love and desire crashing through me, I surge forward, capturing Bridget’s lips with mine. It starts achingly tender, worshipful, but swiftly ignites into an explosive intensity. Our kiss rapidly grows hungry, desperate.
Reluctantly, I break the kiss, our heavy breaths mingling between us. God, I could lose myself forever in her sweetness. But I know I gotta come up for air. There are things I need to say first.
Bridget blinks slowly. “Is...is something wrong?”
“Not at all, sweet Bridget.” I pause to gather my strength, then meet her concerned gaze dead on. “There’s something you should know about me first.”
Bridget gazes back steadily, an openness in her eyes that gives me strength. I take a deep breath.
“I was an Army Ranger. Damn good one, too. Until the day my team rolled over an IED on a routine mission.” Even now, the memory makes me flinch. “I woke up three weeks later in a VA hospital. They called me the ‘lucky one.’”
A bitter laugh escapes me. “It didn’t feel lucky, losing my entire unit like that.” Grief wells up, threatening to choke me. “People call me a hero. But what kind of hero am I when I’m the only one who survived the attack? I couldn’t save them.”
Despite my best efforts, my voice cracks on the last word. In an instant, Bridget is kneeling before me, gathering my hands in her soft grip. Her touch grounds me even as hot tears sting my eyes.
“Oh, Moses,” she breathes, “You are a hero. Surviving something that awful, then rebuilding your life? That takes incredible strength.”
Her voice brims with conviction. “You’re still serving and protecting in your role here. You have a good job, friends who care about you...” She brings our joined hands to her lips, brushing a gentle kiss across my knuckles. “And now, a woman who adores you. You’re a survivor, Moses. Never doubt that.”
Gratitude and love swell in my chest, so acute they border on pain. I blink against the tempest of emotions, determined not to break down.
Clearing my throat roughly, I rise to my feet, bringing Bridget with me. “Thank you, sweetheart. That means more than you know. But there’s...there’s something else I need you to see.”
Steeling myself, I step back and slowly peel off my flannel shirt. The garment falls forgotten to the weathered boards as I bare my ravaged body to her fully for the first time.
Bridget sucks in a sharp breath, her eyes going wide as she takes in the brutal snarl of scar tissue that covers most of my chest and abdomen—permanent proof of the horror I experienced.
“I know it ain’t pretty,” I rasp, my voice hoarse and raw. “The IED did a number on me. I’ve got scars running all down my legs, too.”
The tender look in Bridget’s eyes nearly makes me cry like a baby. “Is this why you wear those big sweats to yoga?” she asks softly.
I nod and swallow hard past the lump of fear in my throat, forcing myself to meet Bridget’s gaze. “Yes. I always cover up my scars. I wouldn’t blame you if you were repulsed.” Slowly, I trail my fingertips over the worst of the gnarled flesh with a grimace. “I’ve been prayin’ you might be able to see past them. That somehow, you could find it in your heart to love me. Scars and all.”
The words leave me in a rush, scraped raw from my battered heart. I’ve never felt so exposed, so vulnerable.
Bridget steps closer. Her gentle hands rise to cup my weathered face, her touch soothing the ragged edges of my anguish. She holds my searching gaze, her own fierce with emotion.
“You’re so much more than your scars to me, Moses,” she vows, her melodic voice tender yet insistent. “Your resilience, your courage...that’s real. That’s what I see when I look at you.”
Her thumbs stroke my stubbled cheeks as she continues. “I see the real you, the man beneath the scars. And I love who you are, Moses, not how you look. You will always be a hero in my eyes, and your scars...they’re a reminder of that. Of your strength.”
Devotion swells within me, so intense I can barely breathe. I crush my mouth to Bridget’s in a searing, needful kiss, one hand tangling in her auburn curls as the other splays across her back to haul her luscious curves against me.
I pour everything into that kiss–all the feelings I don’t have words for, the soul-deep yearning only she can fulfill. I need her to know that she’s reignited parts of me I thought were long dead.
Bridget matches my passion with her own, her lush curves molding to my harder planes as our tongues dance and probe. Her delicate hands map my bared torso, gliding over ridged scars and corded muscle without hesitation.
My heart pounds like a war drum in my chest. I’ve never been touched like this, cherished despite my mangled flesh. It’s exhilarating and terrifying all at once.
Tearing my lips from hers with a ragged groan, I lead Bridget into the fire lookout. The space is cozy, barely big enough for a bed, a chair, and a wood stove. But it’s enough. More than enough when she looks at me like I’m her whole world.
“I need you,” I rumble low in my throat, reaching for the hem of her shirt with trembling fingers.
We undress each other with aching slowness, revealing flesh gradually until we’re bared to the raw night air and our smoldering gazes. I guide her onto the bed, my bulk caging her smaller frame.
Bridget is my solace. My sanctuary.
She is my hero.