“I’m here,” he said, his words strong and firm as he leaned back in his chair. “I’m listening.”
“The men and women I served with, they were good people. Mitch had a wife and a kid back home in North Carolina. Jennifer had twin girls at home. Those kids were her world, and she wanted them to be proud of her. Louis, he was raised by his grandmother and talked about her like she was a saint. They were all such good people. And then . . .”
Georgia closed her eyes. “The first time, I was traveling in a three-vehicle convoy. Mortar rounds exploded one right after the other. Louis, the gunner I was riding with, he was hit. Our vehicle was on fire. We had to get out, but Louis was unresponsive. I had to pull him out.”
She heard the sound of Eric’s chair moving across the floor, but she kept her eyes closed. She suspected he’d walked around the table, as she felt him at her side, but he didn’t touch her.
“One minute Louis was telling me about his grandmother’s cooking,” she continued. “The next I’m dragging his body out of a burning vehicle. I didn’t know we’d lost him. I thought he still had a chance. I rode with him, with his body, to the hospital after the firefight ended. But he was already gone.”
“Georgia, honey—”
“The people I met,” she continued, unable to stop now that she’d started to recount her experiences, “men and women I worked with, shared meals with, they were killed over there. Mortar attacks, IED blasts . . .”
Georgia opened her eyes and looked up at Eric, seeing the mounting worry in his blue eyes. “I know all about real consequences.”
The pity on his face sliced through her, cutting deep. She could handle so much, but not blatant sympathy.
“Don’t look at me like that.” She pushed back from the table and stood, facing him.
He shook his head. “I’m just so damn sorry you had to go through that.”
“I’m not,” she said honestly. And maybe that was the piece of the puzzle no one understood. They wanted to shield her from the memories, while she wanted to face them head-on. She wanted to live, truly live as if each breath mattered, without forgetting.
“I don’t regret serving my country,” she said. “We did great work over there. I served alongside people who believed so strongly in our mission, who believed in what our country stands for, in our freedoms. It was an honor. And to return alive—that’s a gift. One I try every day to feel worthy of. I can’t do that if I’m drowning in grief. So I push back against anything that makes me feel too much. Including you. I want to let you in, believe me I do. But I’ve been so afraid to open up when it feels like there is so little holding me together sometimes.”
“You don’t need to be afraid.” He reached out, running his hand down the side of her face. “And you don’t have to be worthy. You just have to be yourself. Who you are—that’s enough, Georgia.”
She turned her head away from his touch. Through the sliding glass doors, she stared out into the dark night. It was as if she’d slammed her fist down on the button labeled Emotions, the one she’d been so afraid to touch. And it had left her more exposed, more vulnerable, than when she’d stripped down and climbed into bed with him.
She crossed her arms tightly in front of her chest. It was funny how something as simple as sharing a memory could upend her world. Maybe she should have kept her mouth shut. He’d had a bad day. He didn’t need this tonight. And she had a sinking feeling she didn’t either. It was one thing to imagine the conversation while waiting for her toenails to dry and another to say the words.
Georgia looked back at Eric. God, she wished she could backtrack to the beginning of this conversation and start over. He probably did too.
She shook her head, her fingers pressing tight against her sides. “I bet you’re wishing you’d chosen to go skinny-dipping in the pond when you had the chance.”
Chapter Twelve
ERIC STARED DOWN at this woman he’d known his entire life. He’d misjudged her. Her wild actions were a shield to protect her from feeling too much, too soon. Georgia had survived a type of hell he could barely imagine, pulling her friend’s body from a burning vehicle. How did a person move past that and return to day-to-day life? He didn’t know. He had a feeling nobody did. But she was doing it. Her so-called rushes were a defense mechanism, a way of coping while she gave herself time to heal.
Just like her words.
I bet you’re wishing you’d chosen to go skinny-dipping in the pond when you had the chance.
No. He’d gladly face another grueling day discussing the hows and whys surrounding a forest fire, if it meant Georgia would open up to him about the one part of her life he knew so little about. He’d been waiting for her to let him in and trust that he could help her.
But he had a feeling she’d reached her limit. Maybe right now, freezing her memories in the cold water of his pond was exactly what she needed.
“Let’s do it now,” he said.
“Do what?”
“Swim in the pond. Right now.”
“Eric.”
He placed his index finger under her chin, lifting it slightly. “I dare you.”
She smiled and he sensed her relief. This was what she needed right now. They could talk about her memories later. Tonight, tomorrow, whenever she wanted to, he’d be there to listen. “I’ll grab Nate’s monitor,” she said. “You get the towels.”
Georgia stepped back, pulling her T-shirt over her head and tossing it on the table beside their abandoned meal. She plucked the monitor off the counter. Eric unbuttoned his dress shirt as he moved to the door leading to the garage. He opened it, reaching inside for the stacks of towels kept on a shelf. Then he followed her out into the night.
Stepping over her discarded shorts, he headed for the dock. A full moon illuminated the outline of Georgia’s naked body standing on the dock’s edge, poised to dive. He stopped in the grass, memorizing the slope of her curves. She’d never looked more perfect than she did at this moment with her naked body on the verge of movement under the Oregon night sky.
A second later, she disappeared into the water. Eric broke into a run. Dropping the towels on the docks, he stripped off the rest of his clothes before following her into the pond. The cold shocked his senses at first, so different from the late summer night air, but as he swam along the surface toward Georgia, his body adjusted.
“Feel better?” he asked, capturing her in his arms. With her body pressed against his chest, he leaned back, using the water for support as they drifted toward the shore.
“Yes.”
With her back to his front, he couldn’t see her face. But she felt relaxed in his arms.
“And you?” she asked.
“Georgia, I felt better the moment I saw you tonight,” he said. “But now that I have you here, naked in my arms, I feel pretty damn good.”
She broke free from his hold and turned. “How good?”
Grabbing her hand, he used two powerful kicks to push through the water until they reached a place where he could stand. She swam willingly into his embrace, wrapping her legs around his waist, her arms looping around his neck.
Unlike the first night on his bed or the time at his condo, she felt completely free with him and her desires. Whatever had been holding her back, those fears she’d mentioned earlier, which were closely bound to her time at war, weren’t here now.
Despite the cool water, Eric’s body responded to the feel of her against him. And so did his heart. He’d done a lot of good and right things in his life. But he’d never helped someone by simply listening.
Holding her head in his hands, he kissed her, thoroughly and deeply. For the first time since she’d plunged their friendship into new waters, he explored her. She wasn’t just the girl he’d had a crush on for years. Georgia was a brave, resilient woman. He’d thought she needed him, but he was beginning to suspect it was the other way around.