Sierra stared up at him for a long moment. “You really do seem too good to be true.”
“I’m not. I think I already told you that I’ve got more than my fair share of faults.”
“For the record?”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t think it’ll be hard to convince me to go on that date with you.”
Grover beamed. “Good. But for now, while we’re here, we’re just two buddies hanging out.”
“Buddies who hold hands?” she asked with a quirk of an eyebrow.
“Yup.”
“Buddies who sleep together?”
Grover nearly groaned at that, but he managed to nod. “I didn’t have nightmares last night,” he reminded her. “And I know it’s because my psyche knew you were there next to me. Safe. And you came to me because you didn’t want to be alone. So yeah, in our case…friends who sleep together.”
“You aren’t like anyone I’ve ever met before,” she told him.
“I can say the same about you.”
Just then, Sierra’s belly growled, and Grover chuckled. He let go of her hand long enough to put the backpack he’d been carrying on the ground and pull out another granola bar and some peanut butter crackers. Then he slung the pack on again and opened the bar. He handed it to her, gesturing to the trail. “Shall we keep going and find that pretty spot Tonka told us about?”
Sierra nodded. They resumed their walk side by side.
Thirty minutes later, the trail made a ninety-degree turn to the left, and at the turn was a huge flat rock. Sierra and Grover decided it would make a perfect table and climbed up.
Once seated, the rest of the world seemed to disappear. They were surrounded by trees and chirping birds. The weather wasn’t too hot, nor too cold. They got out the sandwiches they’d made and the bag of chips they’d pilfered from the pantry, then ate and talked. And Grover couldn’t ever remember being so content.
Sierra’s mind was whirling. She’d been fighting with herself for two weeks regarding what she should do, versus what she wanted to do. She wanted to move to Texas, date Grover, and accept the friendship all the women offered. But she had a feeling she should be more cautious. Not move so fast. Get her bearings before making any huge life decisions.
But sitting here with Grover in the peaceful forest made the decision feel easy. She liked him. And not only because he’d made such a huge sacrifice to find her. He was a good man, she could see that in every interaction he had with other people. They were drawn to him, just as she was. Maybe because he made them feel important, as if what they were saying was the most interesting thing he’d heard all day. Or maybe simply because he was so damn nice.
Some people actually thought calling a man “nice” was an insult. But not her. Sierra had been around plenty of “not nice” men, and would much rather have someone like Grover, hands down.
The more time she spent with him, the more comfortable she got. Talking with him every night had been enlightening, and she’d gotten to know him pretty well. Being around him in person was…everything.
The way he stood between her and Melba until he was sure the huge beast wouldn’t knock her over. How he paid attention to what she liked and didn’t…for instance, packing peanut butter crackers instead of the cheese ones. How he made her a cup of coffee exactly the way she preferred it.
It was the feel of his hand in hers. Of knowing she could crawl into bed with him and not be afraid he’d think she was making a pass or allowing him to take advantage.
Sierra knew she would be no match physically for Grover. He could easily overpower and hurt her if he was of the mind. Instead, he’d been extremely gentle, keeping his space, and making sure no one else overwhelmed her either.
The thought of being intimate with him was…exciting. Not scary in the least.
“They didn’t rape me,” Sierra blurted, then winced at how harsh the words sounded, how completely out of the blue.
True to form, Grover didn’t make her feel weird about her outburst. “Thank God.”
“I mean, that first month or two, I was terrified every day that they’d do just that, but they were more interested in figuring out how much they could push me before I broke. And once I figured out the faster I cried, the faster they stopped, they seemed to lose interest in even doing that anymore, unless another hostage was around. I was like this toy that got old, that wasn’t fun anymore, and they mostly left me alone until someone reminded them I was there.”
“That’s a good analogy,” Grover said softly. “And I’m glad they lost interest, but that doesn’t negate the fact that they took away your freedom. That they touched you at all.”
“I know.”
“Do you want to tell me why you were thinking about them?”
Sierra sighed. “No. But I will. I was just sitting here, amazed at how happy I am. With you. And about how well you seemed to know me after such a short period of time. That since you’re so much bigger and stronger than me, you could hurt me, but you haven’t. Which got me thinking about why I felt safe going to your cabin last night and actually getting into bed with you. And that made me imagine the two of us being…together…if you know what I mean. It doesn’t freak me out. I guess…I just wanted you to know that. I figured maybe you wondered if I was raped while I was in captivity, and didn’t want to do anything that could freak me out.”
After a beat, Grover chuckled softly. “I’m not laughing at the fact that you might’ve been sexually assaulted,” he reassured her. “But because of your thought process. And I’m glad the thought of us making love doesn’t cause you to panic.”
Sierra blushed, despite already being used to his blunt way of speaking.
He scooted closer but didn’t reach for her. His thigh touched hers, as if he couldn’t bear to not touch her in some way. She liked that. A lot.
“I admit that I’m relieved they didn’t do that to you. The thought of anyone overpowering you like that makes me absolutely furious. And sick to my stomach. You’ll always be safe with me, Bean. I promise.”
“Thanks,” she whispered. Then she tilted her head and rested it against his upper arm. He didn’t move, but she felt him sigh as if relieved she was touching him back. “Can I tell you something?”
“You can tell me anything. Between the two of us, there’s a no-judgment zone,” he reassured her.
“I can’t cry,” she said before she chickened out. “I talked to my therapist back in Colorado, and she said that’s normal, but it doesn’t feel normal.”
“It does make sense though,” Grover said. “You used your tears to manipulate your captors. So emotionally, your brain associates tears with pain. To keep yourself from feeling pain, physical or emotional, your body probably shies away from letting yourself cry. As a defense mechanism.”
“I decided to keep my apartment when I took the job in Afghanistan. It was in a great area and the rent was extremely reasonable. I wasn’t sure how long I would stay overseas and wanted somewhere to come back to when I returned. My parents packed up all my stuff though, after I’d been missing for several months, and stored it in their basement. Mom admitted that she sold my furniture because it wouldn’t all fit in their house. When I saw my things had been reduced to a stack of boxes, I wanted to cry. It was so sad and depressing. But I couldn’t. Not one tear. It’s confusing because I felt such deep sorrow.”