Hell, just knowing she was in the same town as him would be amazing.
Having her constantly at his side these last two weeks had solidified his feelings for her, and he was desperate to know if she felt the same.
They woke up on the last morning of their full day at The Refuge around seven-thirty, as normal. Sierra left his cabin to go to hers and shower, then they had a large, satisfying breakfast. Afterward, they headed for the barn so Sierra could give morning snuggles to Melba, the goats, and the cats.
But instead of returning to the kitchen to pack a lunch, Sierra said, “Would you mind if we didn’t hike today?”
“Of course not. What do you have in mind?”
“I was thinking we could go back to my cabin, sit on the back deck. And talk.”
Usually when a woman said she wanted to talk, it was bad news. But Grover was more than willing to listen to whatever Sierra had to say. It would also give him a chance to discuss the issues the militia group were causing, and to reiterate how badly he wanted her to come to Texas. She claimed she wanted to, but he had to be sure. “That sounds great.”
They still stopped by the kitchen to grab some food for lunch, which Grover carried to her cabin. They set everything up on the small table on her back deck and ate in comfortable silence. That was one of the things Grover liked most about her; he didn’t always have to carry on a conversation. They could sit in silence together and be perfectly happy.
After they’d finished their sandwiches and cleaned up from lunch, Sierra sat back in her chair and said, “This has been the best two weeks, Grover.”
“I agree.”
“I wasn’t sure I really wanted to come, as you know. I mean, I was mostly all right, mentally. I kinda felt as if I should leave the space here for someone who needed it more desperately. But after sitting in on all the therapy sessions, I realized that while I might not have been treated as horribly as I could’ve been, the experience still affected me more than I’d thought.”
Grover nodded. “That’s good.”
Sierra looked over at him. “But I know I wouldn’t feel quite as…calm as I do right now, if you hadn’t been here with me.”
Grover’s heart swelled. “I feel the same, Bean.”
“I still can’t believe you did what you did. I mean, it was pretty outrageous. Who gets themselves taken by a terrorist group in the hopes that maybe they’ll find someone who disappeared a year ago? I could’ve long since been dead, Grover.”
“I know.” And he did. It was a long shot, despite what his gut had told him; a decision made out of desperation. “But you weren’t. And here you are.”
“Here I am,” she agreed. She was quiet for a moment, then asked, “Do you think this is healthy?”
“What?”
“Us.”
One word. She didn’t need to say anything else.
“Yes,” Grover told her immediately.
Her lips twitched.
“Look, I’m not saying what we have is conventional. Hell, most people would probably say it’s not normal. But I don’t care. All I think about is how I feel when I’m around you.”
When he didn’t continue, Sierra asked, “And how is that?”
Grover had no problem telling her exactly how he felt. This was the perfect time to lay everything on the line.
“Settled. As if I’ve finally met my best friend. I don’t feel as if I need to be anyone except who I am when I’m with you. I don’t have to pretend to not be completely freaked out by spiders because I know you’ll kill them for me. You know when I’m irritated and when I’m feeling mellow. I’ve told you all about my fucked-up family dynamics, and you haven’t judged me. I’ve laughed more in the last two weeks than I have in a very long time, and being around you reminds me why I joined the Army—more specifically, Delta Force. I don’t care what others think of our relationship. They can fuck off if they don’t like it. They aren’t us. They haven’t been through what we have.”
“That first month after I was taken was the worst,” Sierra said softly. “I was so scared and confused, in pain. I didn’t know what Shahzada wanted from me, and every day I thought would be my last. And out of all the things I could have thought about…I thought about you,” Sierra admitted.
Grover could hear the emotion in her voice, but as normal her eyes stayed dry. He knew she’d talked to the therapist about her inability to cry, and the woman had told her basically the same thing he had. That she needed to be patient, that once her mind and body realized she was truly safe, she’d regain the ability.
“I thought back to when we first met. You annoyed me so bad,” she told him with a small smile. “I was irritated that you seemed to only see a naïve little kid.”
“I never saw you as a kid. Ever,” Grover said with feeling.
“You know what I mean,” Sierra protested. “But you kinda redeemed yourself when you asked if we could keep in touch. I didn’t think a guy would do that if he wasn’t interested. Especially since I’d be in Afghanistan for a while and you’d be back here in the States.”
“I was definitely interested,” Grover said unnecessarily.
“I just don’t want what happened to be the basis of any relationship we might have. I don’t want you to constantly see me as the poor civilian who needs rescuing. I need you to see me as a mature, capable woman who can make sound decisions.”
“I do,” Grover told her without hesitation.
“I like you,” Sierra said. “But you also scare the hell out of me.”
“I’d never hurt you.”
“Not on purpose, no. And I absolutely believe that you won’t physically touch me in anger or frustration, but I feel as if I’m on a precipice. Do I take the leap…or don’t I?”
“Here’s the thing,” Grover said quietly. “Can I see into the future? No. I have no idea what will happen tomorrow, and I certainly don’t know where we’ll be in a month, a year, five years from now. But what I do know with one hundred percent certainty, is that you’re going to do amazing things. I don’t know what, but I know just from observing you for the last two weeks, everyone you come into contact with is somehow changed for the better, just for having known you. The other guests here seem to light up when you talk to them. You’re considerate and genuinely concerned for others. That’s rare, Bean. Selfishly, I want to have your goodness near me all the time, to help center me as well.
“As for that precipice…take the leap. I’ll be there to catch you.”
Sierra stood then. And for just a second, Grover thought maybe he’d gone too far. That she was leaving. Instead, she shocked the shit out of him when she stepped over to his chair and climbed right onto his lap.
In the last two weeks, he’d touched her a lot. Her arm, her back. He’d held her hand as much as he could get away with. And even though they’d slept in the same bed every night, this was much more intimate.
Sierra fit against him perfectly. He loved having her weight on him. Even though she’d gained back most of what she’d lost, she’d never be a large person. She would always be petite, and he’d always be huge compared to her. He liked that difference. It satisfied something deep and primitive inside him.