The truck stopping brings me out of my head. We’re home. I sit awkwardly for a moment before clambering out.
He waves me off when I try to help with the bags, so I open the door, leave my purse on the side, and go into the kitchen. When he comes in and drops off the bags, I methodically start putting the groceries away.
“Leave those out. I’ll cook them later.” He points to the steaks.
They might be prime meat, but if he’s preparing a goodbye meal, he could give me dry bread for all I’ll be able to taste. I don’t want him to go.
“Cat,” he starts, leaning on the counter as I busy my hands opening cupboards and shifting stuff around. “Fuck, this is hard. You know nothing about me, and I don’t want to lead you on.”
I reach up to the top shelf to slide in the cans of tomatoes. His pronouncement gives me pause. I don’t know anything about him. He’s right. “Who are you? Are you even called Jeremiah?”
His eyes widen a little, but he gives me an honest answer, “No.”
I can’t berate him for lying to me, he’s said almost nothing about himself at all. “I get why you came here, but not why you stayed.”
He harrumphs. “And that’s why it’s difficult to explain it to you. I don’t have the answer myself. Cat,” his hand reaches out and takes one of mine as I lean over a bag, “you’re a beautiful woman, and I would love to fuck you. But I’m not going to use you like that.”
Now he’s lying. He doesn’t think of me that way at all. He’s letting me down gently.
“Just go, if that’s what you want. I’m grateful to you, Jeremiah, or whoever you are. But—”
“I don’t know what the fuck I want to do,” he interrupts. Letting me go, his hands brush back through his hair in that achingly familiar gesture of his. “I should go. But not because of you, but because it’s something I should do.” For a second, he meets my eyes, then he turns and starts to pace. “I’ve got another life waiting for me.”
My hands find my hips. “You’re married?” I spit out.
“Fuck no. Not that.” His eyes widen in disbelief, after a pause, he gives a shuddering sigh. “You want to know who I am? Well, perhaps so do I. Perhaps this is the first time in my life I’ve a chance to find out.”
My brow furrows. “You don’t know who you are? Did you get a bump on your head or something?”
He snorts. “Nothing like that.” He takes a few steps away. He stops pacing, comes back, and again takes my hand. “You want to know why I haven’t made a move on you? Well, it’s because you’re not someone I can fuck and move on. And, babe, that’s all I’ve ever done. I’ve never done this.” He waves his hand around the house. “I’ve never had a relationship. Sex was a bodily function, nothing more than that. And no, before you ask, I haven’t left a trail of broken hearts. I’ve never fucked a woman who didn’t know the score, and that’s why I hesitate with you.”
“What is the score?” I bite my lip, unsure whether I want to know. Would I throw myself into his arms, desperate to know what it feels like to be his if only for one night?
His eyes, almost midnight black, focus on mine. “The score is a night with my cock deep inside you. It might not even involve a bed. Then, I’d leave.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to say at least I’d know what it felt like, but I’m worth more than that. However much I’d regret not taking the chance, I know being loved or however he wants to describe it, and left, would hurt me more. Like most women I know, I’d go into it with my eyes firmly shut, believing that I could change his mind. That one night would become two, and perhaps more after that, until he wouldn’t want to go. But I don’t have a magical pussy, even I admit that.
“My mom left me when I was six. One day she was there, one day she wasn’t.” His eyes glaze as he starts to think back. “My dad was… difficult. Fuck it, he was a mean drunk. I grew up evading his hands and fists.”
My heart aches for him as a child, but he sees my compassion and brushes it off. “Dad wanted me to live the life he never had. When I showed promise in sports, he pushed me on. His dream was me becoming a pro football player. He had it all planned—I’d make my fortune, buy him a house and he wouldn’t have to pretend to look for work anymore.”
“But you weren’t good enough?”
“I was,” he states with a glimmer of pride. “I won a scholarship. But that was his dream, not mine. I admit I led him on, but I followed my own path. I signed up and became a SEAL. I had this idea that serving my country was more honourable than chasing a ball around a field.”
A SEAL? Not just a Navy man like he’d originally said. “So, you’re a hero?”
“Not now,” he scoffs. “I fucked up. Another SEAL lost his life. I was discharged and lost everything I fuckin’ worked for.”
My mouth drops open. He got a man killed? “Was it a mistake?”
“Mistake?” He gives another of his characteristic snorts. “I disobeyed a direct order, but the real question is, should that order have been made?” He shakes his head. “I was focused, driven, Cat. All my life I worked hard to get what I wanted from life, and suddenly it was all lost. I’m not a good man. It affected my head. Maybe I’m more like my father than I thought, as it all got bottled up inside.”
He turns and starts pacing again. “I grew up angry at my circumstances. I was kicked out of the SEALs and left enraged at what had occurred. I was given another chance, and I fucked that up as well. Yeah, Cat, I should leave. I should go back to where I’ve people waiting on me. But…” His voice trails off. Suddenly he’s standing right in front of me, his hands resting on my arms. “It seems I’ve never had a moment of peace until I came here and met you.”
Peace?
“Yeah.” A small smile plays at his lips. “I came, sure, you were in trouble, so I stayed. I got hooked by your green eyes and luscious red hair.” His fingers play with an errant curl that’s escaped from my messy bun. “I don’t know what to do with this, Cat. I don’t know whether to stay or to run. All I can say is here, I feel no stress.”
“Then stay,” I say fast. “There’s no reason for you to leave.”
His eyes close, and he turns away. “But there is. There’s a clock ticking and I can’t leave it too late.” He shudders. “If I don’t return, I lose everything that makes me who I am. If I go, I lose you, and fuck, you’re important to me. I’ll be honest, I don’t understand why.”
18
Stormy…
I’ve been running all my life, driven by ambition and the need to succeed, the desire to be the best. But life has knocked me back as though punishing me for my arrogance, placing me in situations I can do nothing about.
I haven’t lied to Cat. Landing here was like slamming on the brakes. Over the past couple of weeks, I’ve been able to relax. Nothing’s spurring me on, and those things that fired my temper have settled into the past.