Chapter 9
NINE
Grant
Rowan yawns into her coffee as she climbs into the passenger seat of my truck, her hair still damp from the shower, cheeks flushed from rushing around the house this morning, tearing through boxes to find her clothes.
She looks soft and sleepy and so damn cute that it takes effort not to lean over and kiss her senseless before we even pull out of the driveway.
“Morning,” she murmurs, buckling her seat belt.
I lift the coffee cup I bought her to her lips. “Drink.”
She smiles around the rim and takes a sip. “Bossy.”
“Efficient,” I correct, starting the engine. “You didn’t have time to make breakfast.”
I pull out of the driveway and head toward the medical clinic.
My shoulder aches this morning. The scar tissue always pulls when the weather gets cold, but today I don’t let the irritation show.
I’ve got another doctor’s appointment, another round of tests, and mobility assessments.
I hate the appointments, but I’m trying not to bring that into the truck with Rowan. She doesn’t need to worry about me.
I drive her to work first, pulling into the clinic parking lot. Before she can get out, I reach across the console and cup the side of her neck, rubbing my thumb lightly at the spot below her jaw.
“You good?” I ask.
She nods, eyes fluttering shut for a second as if she likes my touch more than she’ll admit. “You’re picking me up for lunch?”
“Mm-hm.” I tap her bottom lip. “Eat your breakfast. Drink your coffee. Text me if you need anything.”
She rolls her eyes. “Yes, sir.”
I smack her ass lightly when she gets out of the truck, and she squeaks, shooting me a glare over her shoulder. It’s adorable, and it keeps her thinking about me all morning, which is exactly how I like it.
I head over to the DEERS office to get the paperwork filled out for Rowan. I have to give them a copy of our marriage license, along with important documents like her birth certificate and Social Security card. I make an appointment for 1 PM so she can get her picture taken for her ID card.
Then I head back home. Rowan’s boxes are littered around the living room, most of them already opened. I smile as I get to work.
It takes me a few hours to put all of her things away. Clothes, toiletries, shoes, study guides, pictures of her and her dad. I put everything away where it makes sense—where she’ll be able to find it, where she’ll know I cared enough to think about it.
Her dad’s old recliner is in the corner of the living room. I tighten the bolts on it and fix one of the squeaky armrests. I run my hand along the worn fabric and exhale slowly.
He’d be proud of her, proud of the woman she is.
I love seeing her stuff next to mine. The house feels fuller. Lived in. Warmer. Her pink toothbrush next to my blue one. Her sweater draped over the back of the couch. Her textbooks stacked on my coffee table.
My house looks like a home now.
Our home.
I roll my shoulder as I make the drive back to the medical clinic and head in for my appointment. I peek into the waiting room for medical and smile when I see Rowan busy working. I want to go in and say hi, but there’s a long line, so I head next door to the physical therapy office.
My appointment is the same as always. Long and annoying. An hour of tests, stretches, and measurements. A new nurse who keeps flinching whenever I turn my head and my scars catch the light.
By the time I leave the office, I’m irritable and restless. The only thing that calms me is thinking about Rowan, her small hand in mine, the way she looked when she said yes to marrying me, her smile whenever she finishes studying and finds me waiting for her.
It’s almost her lunchtime, so I head out to my truck and grab the cooler I packed for us. It’s filled with sandwiches, fruit, and the lemon cookies I discovered she loves.
I carry the cooler inside and almost run smack dab into Rowan.
“Hey!” she says, smiling up at me like I’m not the grumpiest bastard on earth.
“Hey. I was just coming to get you.”
“Yeah? How was your appointment?”
I turn, and we head back to the truck. “Good. We have about half an hour before we need to collect your ID card.”
“Okay.”
I help her into the truck and pass her the cooler before I climb into the driver’s seat.
“How’s work going?” I ask as she passes me a sandwich.
“We’re slammed. A lot of people are coming in to get their deployment paperwork signed off on,” she says, taking a big bite of the sandwich.
She tells me about work and her day while we eat, and I listen, hanging on her every word.
“Thanks for lunch.”
“Of course.”
She smiles, and I take her hand as we drive across base to the DEERs office and check in. We sit for a minute before we’re called back. Rowan has her picture taken and signs some papers. We walk out with her brand-new ID.
“I look so pale!” She gasps, showing me the ID.
“It’s the lighting. I look like a ghost in mine, too.”
“Let me see.”
I oblige her, grinning as she giggles at my photo.
Fuck, I love that sound.
She turns to face me, smiling shyly as I drive her back to work. “I have classes tonight after work.”
I nod. “I know. I’ll be here to pick you up and drive you. I’ll bring dinner. Or do you want to stop and grab something?”
“Whatever’s easier for you.”
“I’ll figure it out,” I assure her.
“Thanks. For everything.”
“It’s my pleasure, Ro. My honor.”
She leans over, kissing me quickly. When she pulls back, I growl, chasing after her, but she’s faster. She jumps out of the truck, and I shake my head as she grins mischievously.
“See you in a bit!”
“Let me walk you in.”
“I can make it fifteen feet all by myself,” she teases, and before I can argue, blows me a kiss and jogs inside.
I catch the kiss, grinning as I watch her go.
I’ve never been this happy before. It’s foreign, but I’m getting used to it quickly.
My phone rings as I drive back to the house. I smile when I see Devon’s name on the screen and pick up immediately.
“Hey, Dev—”
“Grant.” His voice is rough. Weak. Not like him at all.
Ice forms in my veins.
I park in the driveway and sit there, my muscles tense. “What happened?”
“There was an ambush. IEDs,” he says, and I can hear the wince in his voice.
“How bad?” I ask quietly.
“Bad, but I’m still alive,” he sighs. “I’m in Germany now. Got airlifted here yesterday… or the day before. What day is it today?”
“Tuesday.”
“Four days ago, then. Shit.”
“It’s okay. What have the doctors said?”
“Well, my time in the military is over.” I can hear the bitterness in his voice.
“We’ll figure out a plan.”
He grunts. “I have a plan.”
I swallow. “What’s that?”
“I want what you have. It’s time for me to settle down.”
“Letter girl?”
“Of course.” He snorts as if the idea of finding someone else is insane.
“Do you know who she is yet?”
“No, not yet. She wrote me again. I got it the day this all happened, but I haven’t read it yet. It will be with my things. I’ll track her down once I’m back stateside.”
“Do you need anything?”
“No. They keep saying I need to rest.”
“When will you be back stateside?”
“A few weeks at least. I need to recover from the surgery. Sounds like I’ll be doing physical therapy here before they send me back.”
“Well, keep me updated.”
“Will do. And, hey, congratulations. How’s the wife?”
“Amazing,” I smile. “She’s perfect.”
“How was the wedding?”
“It was quick.”
“Did Elvis marry you?”
I laugh. “Nope.”
“Bummer. What about you? What’s going on there?”
I relax in the seat. “I had physical therapy today. I think I might be cleared soon.”
“And then what?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I can request some bases, but it will depend on where Ro goes to med school.”
“Well, maybe they won’t clear you for a bit, and you’ll have time to figure things out.”
“Maybe, but I doubt it. They hinted today that I was pretty much done.”
“Have you told Rowan that?”
“Not yet. She has classes tonight, and I’m sure she’ll be exhausted. I’ll tell her once I know for sure.”
As if the universe is mocking me, my phone dings with a new email, and I glance at it to see it’s from the medical clinic.
“Dammit,” I groan.
“What?”
“Just got an email from medical.”
“Well, I’ll let you deal with that. The meds are kicking in, and I can’t keep my eyes open.”
“All right. I’ll talk to you later. Keep me updated.”
“Will do. Good luck, bro.”
“Thanks.”
We hang up, and I pull up the email. My stomach sinks as I scan it. They’re giving me the option to do another six weeks of physical therapy to get back in fighting shape for active duty, or I can do the six weeks and go to a teaching base.
I never thought about teaching before, but I never had Rowan before either.
I know I have to make a decision, and soon, but before I do any of that, I need to talk to Rowan.