Lana settled into the plastic chair, about twenty minutes too early for Thursday night group therapy. Luckily the security guard at the front of the building had opened the door to the room already. Jillie had struggled with taking her to therapy this time—her day at the office had been shitty, and she had a sick kid at home. Six o’clock at the medical building was a push for her. She also had to take her other child somewhere tonight and so getting to the building extra early was the only option. Not that Lana complained. If anything, she could be flexible.
Ten minutes before therapy, Magnus walked into the room, and everything inside Lana stiffened. She didn’t like him, but she didn’t know why. Well, okay. She did know why. He’d said some things at the Tuesday night session that she didn’t like. At the same time, she usually gave people second chances. He wore a long-sleeved black shirt and black jeans that fit across his belly too tightly. Even his athletic shoes were black. He had the backpack. He’d slicked his hair back with something so the dirty-blond strands clung together in short clumps. A shiver went over her skin. Ick. He smiled and stroked a finger under his nose as if he itched. Her stomach did a tumble as he sat right next to her.
“Hi,” he said, smiling.
She dared glance into his eyes and realized they were a silvery gray, as cool as ice and almost as clear.
She found her voice as she looked at the floor. “Hi.”
Damn it, girl. Don’t be such a scaredy cat. Before Costa Rica, you could have looked right in his eyes and warned him off with a look.
Now she had difficulty meeting people’s eyes at all.
Well…not Aaron MacPherson. You met his eyes and felt safe.
Maybe safe didn’t describe what she’d felt. No, it had been a mysterious mix of safe and terrified. As if he looked into her soul and read all her dreadful secrets and still respected her.
Magnus’s backpack thumped to the floor to the right side of his chair. “Your friend drop you off early?”
He’d noticed that she came here with a friend? Unease prickled her. “Yes.”
Magnus nodded and leaned back in his chair with his legs spread wide open. “I noticed when I was driving out of the lot on Tuesday night.”
Okay. So maybe it wasn’t that creepy; he’d seen Jillie pick her up. He must have seen her with Aaron too. That could be a good thing, considering this man made her uneasy as hell. To her surprise, he didn’t try to make further conversation with her. Addy walked in right then, and shortly so did everyone but Aaron. Time to start came and went, and Addy told them she’d wait five minutes before starting. Disappointment touched Lana, and that disturbed her to the core. So what if MacPherson didn’t show up? Maybe he’d dropped from the group all together?
“Well, it looks like Mr. MacPherson is late,” Addy said. “But we can’t wait any longer.”
At least she hadn’t said a thing about him dropping the program. It disturbed Lana that she cared if Aaron stayed in the group.
Addy started by explaining they were going to do a trust exercise during this new meeting. “The idea is for you to gain some trust in your environment and in other people.”
Magnus made a noise that sounded like a grunt. “I don’t trust anyone.”
Addy nodded. “Yes, well that can be an issue for many sufferers of PTSD. Which isn’t to say everyone has trust issues, but an exercise like this can be two-fold. You learn to trust, and you gain perspective. Who here believes they have trouble with trust? Raise your hand if you do.”
Lana, Magnus, and Elliot lifted their hands.
“All right. That’s not too many for this group,” Addy said.
“What exactly does the trust exercise entail?” Richard asked.
Addy shifted in her chair, crossing her legs. “We stand up and form a circle. We stand so that a person has to fall backwards into another’s arms. You’re trusting them to catch you.”
Magnus rubbed his hands together. “Sounds like fun.”
Discomfort prickled Lana. Great. She had a feeling Magnus was going to want to be her partner. Yuck. She didn’t even glance at him, but she felt his attention settle on her for too long.
The door opened quickly, and Lana flinched. Aaron walked in, and a rush of relief slammed her. Her breath caught at the sight of him. Today was relatively warm, and he wore a red T-shirt that had no slogans or sayings on it and a pair of khaki cargo shorts that showed powerful, tanned legs. Everything female in her appreciated that the T-shirt and shorts didn’t hang on him—they fit just right. His gaze went right to her as he walked with a confident stride across the room. A smile found her lips, and he returned it with a grin filled with satisfaction.
It hit her that his smile was bigger and far more charming than she’d imagined it could be. Tuesday his expressions hadn’t been as animated. Her stomach did that inevitable tingle that signaled physical attraction.
“Sorry,” he said, directing his attention to Addy. “I was late leaving home and then there was a wreck down the street. Traffic is horrible.”
Addy said, “No problem, Aaron.”
Addy explained again what they planned to do as Aaron settled into the same chair he’d taken Tuesday. One corner of Aaron’s mouth tilted in a half-grin that suggested two possibilities. Either he thought the exercise was complete crap, or he simply thought it amusing.
“We’ll start off with the trust-fall exercise.” Addy stood up and glanced around the room. “Since everyone is going to do this at the same time, I need you to push back the chairs temporarily to give us enough room.”
After they’d all pushed chairs back to a safe distance, Addy began picking teams of two. “Elliot and Richard. Roxanne and Magnus. Lana and Aaron. Stand by each other, please.”
Excellent. She didn’t have to fall into Magnus’s arms. Before she could walk toward Aaron, he came to her. Magnus didn’t look any too pleased as he headed to Roxanne. Aaron stood fairly close to Lana, and again that weird combination of stark fear and wild attraction made her pause. She couldn’t look at him, afraid he’d somehow read it in her eyes. He’d think she was nuttier than she already was.
“Let’s get started.” Addy directed them with hand gestures. “All right. The difficult part here is that men are going to be heavier, and therefore, Roxanne and Lana, you won’t try and catch your male partners. They’ll catch each other. Okay, Roxanne turn your back to Magnus and he’ll catch you when I direct you to fall. Stand about this far apart. It’s a distance, but that way you have complete trust in the person behind you. Same for you, Lana. Turn your back to Aaron. On the count of three, fall straight back.”
Lana hadn’t thought the idea would bother her, but suddenly it didn’t seem possible. Fear started a slow trickle into her veins and then punched her full force. Her pulse sped up, and her breath shortened. What on earth?
“One. Two. Three. Fall,” Addy said.
Lana didn’t. She stood as still as a statue, rigid with apprehension.
Everyone else completed the move with ease.
Heat bloomed in Lana’s face. “Sorry. I…”
The discomfort grew inside Lana as her breath grew shorter.
“Lana, what are you feeling?” Addy asked.
“I…um.” Lana swallowed hard and licked her lips. She darted a glance at the rest of the group, her body still tight with tension. Roxanne, Magnus, Richard, and Elliot watched her with curiosity. She could feel Aaron’s attention too. “It’s fear. I…don’t know how to explain it. As if I’m falling off a cliff. As if there’s something awful behind me and I…it’s awful.”
Addy’s eyes narrowed. “Are you remembering something about Costa Rica?”
Lana shook her head. “I don’t think so. I don’t know.”
“It’s all right, Lana.” Addy’s eyes shone with understanding. “I won’t force you to do this.”
Lana didn’t want to fail at this simple exercise. “But I want to do it. It shouldn’t be that difficult.”
“Don’t use shoulds,” Addy said. “This is about what you’re comfortable doing and building that trust in the group over time. We can always have you do it later.”
Frustration built along with the fear, and Lana realized she’d clenched her hands at her sides.
“Trust me, Lana.” Aaron’s voice went deeper, a husky, liquid sound. As if he soothed a wild animal. “I won’t let you fall.”
She did feel wild. As if she’d lost her bearings in a feral and unprotected land. Tears gathered in her eyes. “Why can’t I do this? It’s easy.”
“Sometimes that first step to trust is harder than you expect,” Addy said. “Don’t let it break you.”
Suddenly she felt Aaron closer behind her, his warmth and slightly musky scent sending a rush of soothing energy over her. “You can do it. You’re tough. You’ve lived through things that would break marines in half. I’m closer now. You don’t have to fall all the way back.”
“Wait, he’s too close to her,” Magnus said, a pout clear on his mouth. “Isn’t that breaking the rules?”
Addy laughed softly. “There are no real rules in this, Magnus. Technically we ask people to fall quite a ways back. But maybe she needs to work up to that bigger fall. Aaron, that’s a good idea. He’s pretty close to you, Lana. He’s cut the distance in half. You have hardly any distance to fall.”
“Turn and look at me, Lana. See how close I am,” Aaron said.
Slowly she turned her body halfway around and looked at him. He held his hands out. Wow. Yes, he was very close. She drew in a deep breath and caught his gaze again. A rush of sensual heat blossomed in her loins at his voice and effectively shoved fear right out the window. Oh, yeah. She wanted…what? What did she want?
“Lana?” Addy asked, concern in her voice.
Lana turned away from Aaron and managed a smile. “I’m fine. I can do this.”
“Good.” Addy began her count. “One. Two. Three. Fall.”
Lana fell back. Within seconds, two powerful arms snagged her around the waist and drew her back against a strong, hard body. He moved her forward so that she stood straight, and her hands landed on one of his forearms and the other over his big right hand.
While it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds, the feeling of his ripped physique pressed against hers sent Lana’s libido into overdrive. The heat in her face now had more to do with arousal than embarrassment. His arms tightened for a fraction of a second, so quickly that she wasn’t sure if she imagined it. Almost like a sweet, reassuring little hug.
He released her. “Told you I wouldn’t let you fall.”
She turned toward Aaron and smiled. “Thank you.”
The twinkle in his gaze held amusement. “You’re welcome.”
Addy clapped her hands together. “Excellent. Okay, let’s go around the room and try this with a new partner.”
By the time Lana had accomplished the trust exercise with everyone but Magnus, she figured Magnus catching her would be a piece of cake. It was easy now, thank God. When she lined up and Magnus stood behind her, she realized he stood as close as Aaron had. All right. No big deal. As directed, she fell back. Magnus caught her, although his grip had more noodle to it than real security. But he also moved up a second later, and that’s when she felt him twitch, his hips pressing into her buttocks with familiarity. She jerked out of his arms and swung around.
Aaron stood on the other side of her and must have seen her reaction. He stepped up, right in between her and Magnus. Aaron was so damned tall she couldn’t even see Magnus now.
“Oh, hell no,” Aaron said in a low, deadly voice to Magnus. “You didn’t do what I just think you did.”
“What?” Magnus’s voice went a little higher, a bit of whine in the tone. “What are you talking about?”
“You just copped a feel.” Aaron’s voice stayed calm and low.
“All I did was catch her,” Magnus said.
“You pressed your hips against her, you pervert.” Aaron’s voice held icy certainty.
Shocked by Aaron coming to her defense like an avenging angel, Lana stepped around his side. Magnus’s face had screwed into pure anger, whereas Aaron’s was hard and uncompromising.
Addy walked up swiftly. “Now, gentlemen, I will not tolerate this in my group. Magnus, you’ll refrain from any inappropriate touching. Aaron, any display of violence toward a member of this group will also not be tolerated. I will throw both of you out, and you won’t get back into the group.”
Aaron threw a glance at Lana and stepped back from everyone by a couple of paces.
Addy planted her hands on her hips. “Good. Now let’s get back to the session. Return to your chairs.”
Magnus seemed pleased, as if he liked Aaron’s forced retreat. Smug bastard. Distaste for Magnus increased inside her.
Lana sank into her chair, hating the fact Magnus sat next to her. Emotions jumbled inside her. A lot had just happened in a short time. Trust, distrust, and amazement. Trust in Aaron to catch her, distrust in Magnus’s slimy hold, and amazement that she’d had so much difficulty dealing with the exercise.
“Let’s start with a new exercise.” Addy had her pad and pen in hand again as she sat down. “I want each person to tell us the single most difficult day they had this week, or perhaps the single most difficult moment this week. Magnus, you go first.”
Lana didn’t look at Magnus, so she didn’t see his expression. His voice came out low. “Well…my employer decided he doesn’t need my services anymore.”
Addy frowned deeply. “Oh, my. I’m so sorry to hear that. Tell everyone about your…former job. And when did that happen?”
Magnus chuckled, but it was a sound of derision. “I told you. Software engineer. Anyway, they called me this morning. So I’ve been firing off résumés all day.”
Addy scribbled on her pad. “Does anyone want to ask Magnus questions?”
Roxanne held up her hand. “Why did they fire you?”
Magnus shifted in his chair and slid farther down. “That’s too personal.”
“All right, we can skip that,” Addy said. “How does it make you feel…losing the job?”
“Like sh—crap. I think they’re full of crap,” Magnus said.
“It sounds as if you’re taking the bull by the horns,” Elliot said with a smile. “After all, you’ve started sending out résumés.”
“I suppose.” Magnus didn’t sound grateful for the encouragement.
“You’ll find something better,” Richard said.
“Right.” Magnus crossed his legs at the ankles and followed up with crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
Addy’s expression held the barest hint of impatience, which surprised Lana. She’d never seen anything but encouragement on her face before.
“It’s a very good thing that you’re sending out résumés,” Addy said. “Perhaps tonight you can write down all the things that make you believe the termination is…crap, as you called it. Bring that to our next session, and we can discuss it. One thing we want to do in this group is try and bring out feelings so they don’t fester.”
“I thought this was a PTSD group,” Roxanne said coolly. “We aren’t here to talk about losing jobs.”
Addy nodded, her face clear of perturbation, despite the sharpness of the question. “This is true. We can’t, however, ignore any emotions you’re having while going through the group sessions. So if situations come up, we’ll discuss them. Roxanne, tell us about your most difficult moment this week.”
Roxanne’s façade cracked a little as she gave a brittle smile. “I tried to get a job this week and failed miserably.”
“I thought you were independently wealthy,” Magnus said.
Roxanne tossed him a cold look. “I have means, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to work. My therapist says I need it for my ego.”
“I didn’t think you had any trouble with your ego,” Magnus said.
Addy stepped in. “All right, that’s enough. We all seem to be a bit edgy today. Let’s keep our comments helpful. We’re not here to tear each other down.”
After Roxanne explained her dilemma with locating a new job, Addy moved them to Richard. “Tell us about your worst time this week.”
Richard looked around the group, as if assessing how he should answer based on what others might think. “My wife told me that I haven’t improved enough. I think she’s getting ready to divorce me before we’ve even given group therapy a chance.”
“That’s awful,” Roxanne said.
Richard nodded. “I begged her to understand this whole thing takes more than a week.”
Addy spoke up. “Would it help if I called her and explained more about how group therapy works?”
Richard smiled. “That would be fantastic. Thank you.”
“It’ll be done,” Addy said. “As obvious as it sounds, how did her disapproval at your progress make you feel?”
Richard shrugged. “Like crap. I’ve been trying, but it’s almost as if she just wants me to get over it at the drop of a hat. She never wants to talk about it.”
“I can relate to that,” Lana said suddenly.
Everyone looked at her as if they were surprised she’d spoken. “My parents…well, my father anyway, is like that. He just ignores everything to do with my kidnapping. I always thought Dad was pretty open and emotional.” The words tumbled out. “Instead my mother can’t stop talking to me about it, and my father never talks about it.”
Addy nodded vigorously. “This is common with many families and PTSD. They either clam up or can’t shut up. There’s often not a middle ground. It is very difficult on families. They don’t know how to handle it, so they default to the easiest route. The route that seems natural to them. Richard, go on.”
Lana’s cheeks heated a little. She felt almost as if she’d hijacked Richard’s story, yet she’d understood his situation so well.
“It’s almost as if she wants an excuse to divorce me. Maybe things weren’t as secure before the tsunami as I thought.” Richard’s mouth twisted in derision.
After a short time, they moved to Elliot’s worst moment this week.
“Wednesday night I had the same hideous nightmare.” Elliot leaned forward and rested his forearms across his thighs. “I’m not getting enough sleep.”
Lana noted the dark circles under his eyes, and the insomnia thing she could understand. “I’ll have nightmares about once a week too.”
“Is that your worst experience this week?” Richard asked her. “Nightmares?”
“No,” Lana said. “Sorry, Elliot. Go on.”
Elliot leaned back in his chair, tilting the metal legs so that the front two no longer touched the ground. “That’s all.”
Addy scribbled away on her pad. “Lana? What about you? What was your worst moment this week?”
She mulled that over quickly. She still didn’t feel comfortable revealing things to this group. Of course she would, but it didn’t feel easy or as if she related her deepest, darkest secrets to people she trusted one hundred percent. She thought on that. Had there ever been anyone she trusted that way? To her astonishment, like a flash of lightning, she realized there hadn’t been. Not a soul.
“Lana?” Addy’s question came again.
Lana jerked out of her stupor. “I…my worst moment was yesterday. I decided I’d drive by myself again for the first time. I haven’t driven at all in four months.” She licked her lips, her mouth so dry. She moved her attention to Aaron and found his gaze intent and curious. Something in the way he looked at her gave her courage. “I told my friend Jillie I could go to the grocery store on my own. Turns out I was dead wrong.”
“What happened?” Magnus asked.
Lana ripped her gaze from Aaron, but she didn’t look at Magnus. “I went outside and then all of a sudden, when I got to the car, I was…I guess you could call it panic. I couldn’t do it.”
“What did that feel like?” Addy asked, her voice understanding and patient.
“I don’t know,” Lana said, folding her hands over her lap.
“Like a panic attack?” Magnus asked.
He made her mad, and yet she didn’t know why. Anyone else could have asked the same questions. She darted a glance his way. “I guess that’s how I’d describe it.”
“Everyone knows what that feels like.” Addy nodded, her eyes full of sympathy.
Okay. So maybe Addy wouldn’t make her regurgitate the uncomfortable details.
“I’ve never had a panic attack.” Richard glanced around the room. “But I’ve heard they’re awful. I’m sorry you had to go through that, Lana.”
“Did you feel like you might die?” Magnus asked.
What the hell was he? A mind reader?
Yet she felt compelled to answer. “Yeah. Sort of. I can’t really describe it. It’s not a panic attack exactly. It’s something else I think.”
Addy asked, “Has anyone else here had a panic attack?” No one raised their hands. “All right. Describe it to us Lana.”
“I don’t even like to talk about it,” Lana said softly.
“Why?” Addy asked.
“Because if I even think about it too much, it can bring it on,” Lana said, hating to admit that part.
“I see.” Addy resorted to writing on her note pad again. “Do you think you can try to explain it this time?”
Lana waited for a moment, and when the thought of explaining didn’t set off a panic of its own, she decided to answer.
Aaron said before she could speak, “There’s a rush of dread. Your heart picks up speed. You aren’t panting or crying out. You just hear and see and feel everything right then. Right now. It’s too damned much all at once.” Aaron laced his hands behind his neck, his tone casual. As if he discussed the weather. “That’s when you feel like you might die.”
Lana was overwhelmed in a second. Tears filled her eyes. “That’s it. That’s exactly it. I think I’m going to die.”
One tear fell, and Magnus touched her shoulder. She flinched away from him.
Addy asked, “What did you do then? When you panicked before you could get into the car?”
“I rushed back into the apartment and asked Jillie for a ride,” Lana said.
“How did that feel?” Addy asked.
Lana was on a truth roll now. “Humiliating.”
“Is it like agoraphobia?” Elliot asked.
Lana didn’t hesitate to say, “Partly. I can get out the door. Sometimes I can get as far as turning the car on and getting ready to back out before the feeling comes. And it’s always fast…very fast. It hits like a ton of bricks. It’s awful.”
Addy made the right noises, said the right things to assure her what she’d felt was normal, but Lana knew better. Not all PTSD sufferers felt this. Yet Lana wasn’t like Monica from the online group. She wouldn’t moan that her panic attacks were worse than anyone else’s or special and different. So Lana nodded and agreed. What did it matter?
Addy eventually got to Aaron. “What was your worst moment this week?”
He laced his hands behind his neck again, and Lana’s attention snagged on the way it showed the rippling muscles in his biceps and forearms.
“I didn’t have one,” Aaron said.
One of Addy’s well-formed eyebrows twitched. “Really? Are you sure?”
He grinned. “Yep.”
Lana half expected Magnus to say that was a crock, but when he didn’t, Lana said it for him. “There has to be something. A low point. A point when you didn’t feel your best or made a mistake or wished you could drop into the ground and disappear.”
Aaron smiled. “Okay. I’ll give you that. My low point was when I realized that I wanted ice cream and there wasn’t any in the house. Sucked.”
Addy’s eyes narrowed at him, and she didn’t look too pleased. “We’re being serious here, Aaron.”
Aaron scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “So am I. I wanted ice cream in the worst way last night, and it was worse than a hormonal pregnant woman wanting pickles. I was ready to throw something through the wall because I didn’t have any f’ing ice cream. If that isn’t a ridiculous low point, I don’t know what is. I didn’t recognize myself at all.”
Heavy silence cloaked the room.
“I don’t get that.” Roxanne’s mouth tightened into that thin line that clearly defined her distaste as her voice sharply. “The rest of us are wrestling with crippling PTSD and you’re worried about ice cream?”
“I don’t think I like that he’s not taking this seriously.” Magnus sounded like a petulant child.
To his credit, Aaron didn’t retaliate with harsh words. Instead he crossed his arms over his wide chest and slouched in his chair. “I guess you don’t understand then, do you?”
Lana couldn’t help herself. “I understand, Aaron.”
Addy, who appeared to be interested in the exchange, said, “Explain to us what you think he’s saying, Lana.”
Lana’s palms felt sticky. She smoothed her hands down her jean-clad thighs. “When you have stress…or something as monumental as PTSD, it can affect you in strange ways.”
“Ice cream?” Roxanne said with sarcasm. “Freaking out because he doesn’t have ice cream?”
Lana swallowed around the tightness in her throat. “Yes. It can be any little thing. Haven’t you every wanted something so much you felt like acting like a two-year-old because you couldn’t get it?”
“No.” Roxanne’s haughty expression reminded Lana of an old-fashioned, priggish schoolmarm from a western movie.
Lana continued. “What Aaron is saying that his reaction to wanting ice cream was ridiculous. That’s the low point. He wouldn’t have acted like this before the PTSD. Right?”
Aaron smiled. “Exactly right.”
Addy broke in. “Thank you, Lana. I think that’s an excellent analogy. And the reaction Aaron had is legitimate.”
They moved on to another topic for a short while, and before Lana knew it, the hour had ended. The controversy during the group therapy had tired Lana. She couldn’t wait for Jillie to pick her up and to go home. She hurried out to the front steps and searched the parking lot for Jillie’s car. Addy had broken up the group about five minutes later than normal. No sign of Jillie’s car.
Lana heaved a sigh. Soon everyone was gone—well, almost everyone. She noticed the dark SUV on one side of the parking lot, but couldn’t tell who was in it. Wait. Wasn’t that Aaron’s vehicle? Magnus’s car was on the opposite side of the parking lot, and he sat there watching her. He waved. She reluctantly lifted her hand. She thought about going back to the door, but the security guard had locked it behind them. She reached in her purse for her keys and tightened her hand around them until she held them like a knife.
The SUV door opened, and Aaron stepped out. It was, as the old saying went, déjà vu all over again.
Aaron sauntered over the ground. No, he swaggered. But not in the arrogant way a man with a huge ego would possess. His walk was distinctive. Strong. Individual. She had a feeling he was all that and more. The more worried her a little.
When he reached her at the top of the stairs, Magnus’s car roared out of the parking lot going way too fast.
“Damn, he’s late for a date,” Aaron said with an evil grin.
She returned his smile, feeling lighter than she had in some time. “Apparently. Why are you hanging around?”
“Because your friend is late again.”
“So you wait to see if she turns up on time?”
“Yep.”
“Very chivalrous.”
“Like I said Tuesday, my Dad taught me right.”
What did she say to him? Despite feeling lighter, she didn’t feel any less awkward.
He leaned back against the railing one step down from her, his arms crossed again as he looked out at the darkening sky. The sun hadn’t dipped behind Pikes Peak and the surrounding mountains, but clouds rolled over the mountains and lightning flashed in the far distance.
“Hope your friend gets here before that storm does,” he said.
She glanced at her watch. Jillie was now ten minutes late. “No. What I need to do is start driving myself.”
He continued gazing toward the coming storm. “Have you tried driving with someone else in the car?”
“Once. Jillie and I tried. I couldn’t make it out of the parking lot.”
He sighed. “It must be frustrating for you to be stuck in your house like that unless she can take you.”
“Very frustrating.”
“Thanks for coming to my defense tonight.” He threw a smile at her, and then returned his attention to the mountains and clouds. “I appreciate it.”
“About the ice cream?” She made a soft snort. “You didn’t need the help.”
His gaze returned to her, curious. “No. Why did you defend me?”
She shrugged. She drew her hand out of the handbag and the keys jangled. “Because I understood what you were saying when Roxanne didn’t. I’ve had that same frustration. When I went into the apartment yesterday after failing to drive…I almost had a temper tantrum.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because part of me has given up. What’s the point in fighting the inevitable?”
He turned toward her, his brow now furrowed in question or concern. He took the step and stood next to her. Not too close. His arms lowered to his side. “You can’t do that. You can’t give up.”
Part of her wanted to tell him to bug off. “Why not? Some things can’t be solved.”
He tilted his head to the side, and fading light glinted for a moment on the gold in his buzzed short light brown hair. She wondered if his hair was curly or straight when it was long. The weird thought darted in and out of her head while he stared at her with those intense eyes.
“You don’t believe that.” He almost sounded offended.
Tears stung her eyes. She didn’t know why. “Maybe I do.”
“You’re a strong woman with a lot of courage. You don’t give up.”
“Marines don’t give up. Sure you’re not talking about yourself?”
He made a half laugh, a bare whisper of sound. He scratched his chin. “Yeah, could be. I’ve considered giving up in the last few months.”
“Why?”
“Because it just seems…you know that feeling in your gut when it all seems like too much work? You just get tired of trying?”
“I’ve ached with it sometimes.” Speaking the words hurt too. “Not often. Not for long.”
“Good.”
She shook her head. “I don’t get you.”
One of his dark eyebrows lifted. “What is there to get?”
“You retired from the marines, right?”
“Yep.”
“You’re not that old.”
“I’m thirty-eight.”
“Like I said, not that old. You have a ton to live for.”
He stood straight and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Don’t worry. You’re not going to hear about me offing myself in the newspapers.”
A shiver ran over her as safety lights in the parking lot flickered to life. “That would be horrible…don’t ever…”
“I won’t.” He smiled, and this time it held gentleness and concern. “Thanks for caring.”
What could she say to that?
“I’m sorry about the panic attacks, or whatever they are. I’ve had those,” he said.
“Since you retired?”
He shifted on his feet, his legs spreading apart as if he anchored himself on a boat deck. “No. When I was afraid I would fail Force Recon. The qualification process is a royal bitch. I made it through the first challenge…not drowning the first day.”
“They wouldn’t let you drown.”
“No. But it felt like I might a couple of times. I kept pushing because I’ve always been a strong swimmer. That night I should have been exhausted. I was wired as hell. That’s when I felt what you described.”
“Did it happen to you more than once?”
“No. But I’ll never forget that feeling. It’s stuck in my memory forever.”
They went silent for a bit, and the quiet made her a bit jumpy. She was here with a strange man…okay maybe not strange or a stranger, but still…Her fingers tightened on the keys again.
“Hey,” he said softly as his gaze darted to her hand clutching the keys. “It’s all right. You’re safe with me. I’m not some weirdo stalker.”
“How could you tell what I was thinking?”
“It makes sense. I don’t blame you for thinking that way. But I swear on my life I would never hurt you.”
She knew it down deep, where her instincts resided. “Thank you for getting between me and Magnus. He creeps me out.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Is that why you didn’t leave the parking lot tonight?”
“Partly. And like I told you before, I’m not leaving you alone to wait for your friend. Ever.”
She pulled out her phone and saw the time on the display. “God…she’s so late this time. I should call and make sure she’s all right.”
Lana’s phone rang, and she startled in surprise. Jillie’s name came up on the display. “It’s her.” She answered. “Hey there.”
Jillie’s voice came over the line. “I’m so sorry. I got out of work late…my stupid boss. Anyway, there’s a big wreck on I-25, and the traffic isn’t even moving. I’m not even close to an exit.”
“Oh.” She glanced up at Aaron. “Well, okay. I’ll just wait here.”
“I feel terrible. It’s getting so dark, and you’re there alone.”
“Well, I’m not alone. Aaron MacPherson is here waiting with me.”
“Uh-huh. Do you feel safe there?”
“Yes. But he may have somewhere else to be.”
He frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“She’s stuck on I-25. There’s an accident holding up traffic.”
“I’ve got nowhere to be. I can hang here with you until she get here.”
Jillie piped in. “Ask him if he can take you home. God only knows how long I’ll be stuck here.”
“What?” Lana asked.
“I’m sure he’s safe. Besides, we know who he is and I know you’re with him. He isn’t going to do anything to you.”
Jillie’s voice was loud enough Lana thought maybe he’d heard Jillie.
He winked. “She’s right. That’s a good idea. I’ll take you home.”
“But it could be out of your way.”
“Where do you live?” he asked.
“Over off of Voyager.”
“I live on the south side.”
“See, that’s out of your way.”
Jillie said, “It’s out of my way to come and get you.”
Lana heard the pique in her friend’s voice. “All right. Fine. He can take me home. I’ll talk to you later, Jillie.”
She hung up on her friend, feeling a bit strong-armed into doing what they wanted. But what choice did she have, short of calling a cab? “I guess that is that. Let’s go.”
He grinned and followed her toward his SUV. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Her heart started to pick up speed.
She came to a halt. “I…”
He stopped with her, and he held his hand out. “It’s all right. Look, if you want to call your friend and tell her you’re not going with me, I understand. I’ll still wait here with you.”
She took a deep breath. “No. I can do this.”
She shook inside, but she moved forward and they climbed into the SUV. She noticed right away the car looked and smelled clean.
“Seatbelt,” he said.
“Oh, yes. Of course. I always wear a seat belt.” She strapped in at the same time he did.
“Normally I lock the doors, but I’ll leave them unlocked. If that would make you feel more comfortable?”
“Yes.”
His consideration eased the weirdness, the half breathless, half excited sensation dancing around inside her. How the hell was it possible to be attracted to and fearful of the same person? And she was attracted to him. Everything about him was powerful, ripped, a man to be reckoned with. She’d noticed that when he talked to her, his voice was softer. More gentle than when he talked to the men in their group. Even with Roxanne, his voice had stayed calm and quiet. Yet there was strength and purpose and even command when he talked with other men.
He fired up the engine and soon they drove through the streets, avoiding I-25. He didn’t turn on the radio, and the low purr of the engine was calming. The quiet between them soothed her, and the weird little panic disappeared. He drove at the speed limit, something that surprised her. So many men she’d known drove like the devil was after them. He seemed casual and at ease behind the wheel, not in a hurry to get anywhere.
“Okay?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Good. I hate like hell that you’re afraid of me.”
“Why would you care that much?”
“Because that’s not who I am.”
She smiled. “Well, you are a big, scary dude. I mean…even that tattoo alone is intimidating.”
Now that she was closer to him, she saw the skull and crossed rifles, with Force Recon emblazoned in a circle on the outside middle of his left bicep. There was no color to it. No, that wasn’t true. The skull eyes were red.
He shrugged. “A lot of marines have tattoos. I never wanted one until I made it into Force Recon. It was hell and I made it through. I wanted to remember that.”
“As if you could forget.”
“You know anything about the military?”
“Yes. I’ve known quite a few families here in Colorado Springs. I taught their kids at Bennett High. But I saw a documentary on Force Recon Marines once a few years back. That’s how I know how hard it is.”
She thought of asking him more questions, but something held her back. Instead, she went quiet again until they reached her apartment complex. She directed him where to park near her apartment. He left the vehicle idling.
“Thank you, Aaron.”
“You’re welcome. Call your friend when you get in the apartment and let her know I got you home safely, okay? I don’t want her calling the police on me, thinking I hurt you.”
“Of course. Aaron?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for…the trust exercise. The way you told Magnus to back off.”
“Anytime.”
She opened the door. “Goodnight, Aaron. See you next week.”
“Lana.”
She glanced back at him. “Yes?”
“Do me a favor and don’t ever be alone with Magnus, okay?”
The idea sent a cold shiver rippling up and down her body. “Why?”
He snorted a soft laugh. “Seriously? He’s a creep. I get a bad feeling about him.”
She nodded. “You’re right. I have no intention of being anywhere near him alone. Good night.”
“’Night.”
He waited down below until she’d entered her apartment, and she quickly engaged all the locks. She settled on the couch and dug out her cell phone to make a call to Jillie. Jillie was still stuck on the highway.
“So, how was the ride?” Jillie said.
Lana’s face burned as her imagination took flight and went straight for the gutter. She imagined him riding her, and a flash of heat slid through her loins.
“It was fine. He was a perfect gentleman.”
“Uh-huh. Well, I’m glad. Stay on the phone and keep me company. I’m bored.”
Later that night Lana dreamed. A hot dream with sexual overtones, and all of them featured one Force Recon marine. She couldn’t see his face, but there was no mistaking that deep, husky voice coaxing her to do dangerous, sexy things.