His Blind Date Bride

by Scarlet Wilson

  Or was it really the first time? Had the whole road down this path—using the app, thinking about a personal life, wondering if she might like to actually meet someone—been her mind’s way of telling her to think about herself? Broaden her horizons, take some time to look at her emotional needs instead of focusing on her career goals.

  Travis leaned forward and touched her arm. ‘Ivy? What’s wrong? I’m sorry. Did I scare you with my plans? I didn’t mean to.’ He stood up from her bed. ‘I didn’t mean to jump to any conclusions. I’m not trying to push you into anything...’

  He was starting to babble and she shook her head, blinking back a few tears. ‘No,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘It’s not what you said...’ She took a deep breath. ‘Well, yes, it is. But I’m not scared, Travis. You’re not jumping to conclusions. It’s just the fact that your answers to the questions were so different from mine.’ She put her hand up to her heart. ‘And now you’ve got me thinking what kind of terrible person I am that when I get asked a casual question, my response is all about work.’ Her voice was starting to shake.

  Her phone pinged again as another friend responded and Ivy gave a small laugh and turned it around.

  Growing a baby. Marrying the man I love. Probably having a million sleepless nights and probably relying on all my friends to assist!

  Her friend was pregnant. Cassy, a mutual friend of Liz and herself, had just let them all know she was expecting. Now that definitely made a tear roll down her cheek. Cassy had a high-flying career at a bank in San Diego, but nowhere in her response had she mentioned it. Her response was all about family life.

  ‘Hey...’ Travis moved forward and pulled Ivy up towards him, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close. ‘I’m sorry. Don’t take this so seriously. I’m sure your friends just thought of this as a piece of fun.’

  But those words just made the sob that had been stifled in her throat erupt. Her head was buried against Travis’s chest. ‘But what kind of a person am I? My first reaction was all about work.’ She sniffed and looked up at him with blurred vision. ‘You didn’t do that, Travis. Why did I?’

  Travis shook his head. ‘Don’t do this.’ His fingers went under her chin and tilted it even more towards him. ‘You are a wonderful surgeon. A brilliant team player. And a fabulous human being. Ask me what I think? I’m the man that’s laying my heart at your feet.’

  Ivy breathed. Trying to stem the flow of panic that she felt. Her hands gripped Travis’s arms. ‘Give me a second,’ she said, picking up her phone and tapping the screen.

  On a cruise with my blind date. Living a lonely but busy life. Hopefully cuddled up with the man of my dreams. PS Congratulations Cassy—will video call you later!

  She pressed Send. The words were there. But she still felt like a failure.

  ‘Here.’ She forced a smile onto her face as she turned it towards him.

  Travis only gave a brief nod. She was making this worse.

  Ivy sat down on the edge of her bed. ‘Why don’t you tell me how things are going with Aileen?’

  Something flitted across his face. Annoyance? Maybe he didn’t like the intrusion. Or maybe he knew she was just trying to divert attention from herself.

  She saw him choose his words carefully. ‘Things are going...fine. I think. I don’t really know. I’m still having nightmares. But Aileen’s told me not to expect any kind of instant fix. She’s also told me there’s a chance they might never totally go away.’

  Oh, no. The expression on Travis’s face told her everything she needed to know. She shouldn’t have asked.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ he said softly. ‘I wouldn’t ask you to be with me if that happens. If you can’t feel safe around me, we can’t be together.’

  The look he gave her was the saddest she’d ever seen. He ran a soft finger down her cheek. ‘Goodnight, Ivy,’ he said, and before she had a chance to say anything else he slipped out of the door.

  Ice poured over her heart. She’d ruined a perfect evening by being nosy, being intrusive, because Travis’s selfless answers had made her take a long hard look at herself. How much was she prepared to put into this relationship?

  She’d drawn a line in the sand immediately with Travis and had sealed her heart into a package, right about the same time he’d started wearing his on his sleeve.

  In her head she still had him as her potential dream date. She didn’t have him in her head as Travis, the real-life person and colleague with PTSD. Someone who needed a chance to heal without pressure.

  And that was exactly what she hadn’t done.

  Reality was crushing her. She’d just acted like some weird kind of teenager. He’d inadvertently highlighted something that she felt was a shortcoming of her own, and she’d lashed out. It may not have been deliberate but it had been her natural reaction. The old not good enough feelings washed over her.

  She hated everything she was learning about herself tonight. She had to get her act together. She had to get over herself.

  Because when Travis had walked out the door, he’d taken a big chunk of her heart with him.

  * * *

  The report was finished. He read it over for the twentieth time. It wasn’t just good, it was excellent. Better than he could ever have hoped for.

  His stomach was still doing flip-flops, his finger hovering over the button to press Send. He’d seen the expression on her face last night when he’d told her Aileen had warned there was a chance the nightmares might never go away. He’d wanted to find a different kind of way to give her that news. But she’d put him on the spot and he only wanted to be honest with her.

  He scanned the accompanying email and pressed Send. He did still wonder if questions might be asked, but he was confident he’d given Ivy the best recommendation he could.

  His sisters had been all over him last night, instantly catching the vibe that things weren’t going well. He couldn’t talk to them. None of them knew about his PTSD and he could only imagine the reaction if he told them. His family were like a wrap-around blanket. He wouldn’t be able to move for them, and right now what he needed was space.

  Actually, not true. What he needed was Ivy. But it felt as though she was slipping away from him like grains of sands sliding through his fingers. And it was all his fault. He should have dealt with this as soon as he’d first recognised the signs. He shouldn’t have let it fester and take hold for four years. And now? When he’d met a woman he actually wanted to build a future with, it might just be too late.

  Aileen had talked about more than he’d revealed to Ivy. She’d asked him about his navy career—then about triggers. He hadn’t thought about it before. But apparently Aileen had noticed that in certain situations she seemed to lose Travis for a second.

  He’d been horrified. Because he hadn’t recognised it for himself. On her advice, he’d started keeping a diary. Thinking back and recording which nights his nightmares seemed worse, along with key events in the previous days. She’d found a pattern. A pattern they’d discussed at length.

  He didn’t like what he was discovering. He didn’t like the fact the job he’d always loved might actually be enabling his condition.

  But, deep down, he knew that was what his mind had been telling him all along. It was why he’d started to respond to Peters’s emails. It was as if he’d known the only way to heal was to get out.

  Travis had gone into the ward that day to a full clinic of patients. Ivy was on duty but they’d both been so busy their paths hadn’t crossed.

  The boom came out of nowhere, reverberating through the metal carrier.

  He didn’t even think. His body acted instinctively, crouching on the floor as if he were hiding behind that stone wall again as the enemy let loose with a hail of bullets.

  For a few seconds he relived past events. The fear, the terror, the adrenaline, the sweat, the roaring in his ears as
if all other noise had disappeared.

  Ivy appeared in front of him, her face close to his, her hand on his cheek. ‘Travis, Travis, come back to me. You’re okay.’

  He could see her blonde hair and green eyes. But even though her lips were clearly moving, his brain couldn’t make sense of the words. It was as if the whole world was slipping all around him.

  She lifted her other hand to cup his other cheek. Her words seemed to be coming out of a fog. ‘Travis. Look at me. Look at me. There’s an accident on the flight deck. I have to go. But I need to make sure you’re okay. Tell me you’re okay.’

  A pack was dumped right next to him, landing on the floor with a loud thump.

  It brought him back to reality. Tony was already running for the door. ‘Come on, Trav!’ he yelled over his shoulder.

  Things came back into focus. ‘What...?’ he asked Ivy.

  She was shaking. The hands that were on his cheeks were trembling. ‘Flight deck,’ she said slowly. ‘There’s an accident. All hands.’ The emergency siren was wailing.

  Something clicked into place in his brain. He stood up, grabbing the pack and starting to run after Tony.

  As he pounded along the grey corridors up towards the flight deck he could hear her running behind him. He couldn’t believe what had just happened to him. That had never happened before.

  He wanted to stop. He wanted to throw himself inside his cabin, slam the door behind him and try to work out why he’d had such a strong flashback. It might have only been a few seconds, but he’d been there. Back behind the wall, listening to the bullets ricocheting. Feeling the warm belly of his friend as he’d tried to stem the bleeding. His head turning from side to side as he tried to determine who he could help, and who there would be no chance for. It was probably the most sickening memory that he had. And he’d been right back there. Living it again.

  Instead, he was running down the corridor, catching up with Tony as they took the stairs three at a time. A boom like that could only mean one thing. A crash on the flight deck.

  Tony threw open the door and the wind that hit them was incredible. The sight was worse. The smell of burning oil. Warm orange flames licking the air. Crew on the deck. Foam and hoses already out. Twisted metal.

  Travis prioritised. There were parts of the jet scattered across the flight deck. The cockpit was mainly intact and the pilot was still in his seat. Men were crowded around, trying to prise it open.

  His team was by his side, Tony and Ivy racing forward with him. By the time they got there, the cockpit was covered in foam to stop it catching alight. Warm flames were flickering nearby from one of the wings, catching the high wind and coming dangerously close. Instructions were also being lost in the wind.

  One of the crew lost his footing and started tumbling towards the edge of the deck. Tony dived, his whole body weight landing on his fellow crew member to stop him being blown overboard in a powerful gust of wind.

  Travis felt a hand grab the belt at his waist. He looked over his shoulder. Ivy. She could barely keep upright and was using him as an anchor.

  ‘Move!’ Travis yelled to the crew member right ahead of him. The young man was trying to lever the cockpit open, but because he was slicked with foam and could barely keep his feet in the wind, he was failing miserably.

  Travis put his hands on the large crowbar, gripping it tightly. It was wedged where it should be. Every muscle in his body strained as he put all his weight and strength behind it. Another man closed in between him and Ivy, pushing Ivy sideways to allow himself to press up against Travis’s back and mirror his position. His hands closed over the top of Travis’s and crushed down with his added weight.

  This time a tiny gap appeared in the seal around the cockpit. The smell of leaking jet fuel was becoming more pronounced by the second. ‘Again!’ yelled Travis. He had no idea who was behind him, but the guy was the muscle that he needed. They applied leverage again, and again. Another few crew members appeared alongside him, Ivy lost in the crush. He felt her hand release at his belt. The other crew wedged their tools in next to his, and together they all repeated the motions. Finally, the cockpit cracked open, catching in the wind with such momentum that it struck a small blonde person on the other side. The crack could be heard above the wind.

  It took him a millisecond to realise who the small blonde was. Travis was torn. A collar was pressed into his hands for the pilot and he started yelling, ‘Ivy! Ivy! Someone check on Ivy!’

  He put the collar on in less than a few seconds. The pilot was unconscious. And even though he really didn’t want to be there, Travis did exactly what he should. Checked the pilot’s pulse, airway, and ran his hands over the man’s chest, back and limbs, checking for any obvious injuries before they moved him. It only took a few seconds before he was handed a knife to slice the harness then secured the pilot’s head until they could slide him onto a stretcher. He kept his hands and the pilot’s body perfectly aligned as he yelled to Tony, who he couldn’t even see. ‘Give me an update on her!’

  It seemed to take ages to get the pilot securely onto the portable stretcher and for Tony’s head to appear back in Travis’s line of vision.

  Travis’s heart thundered in his chest. If he’d been more with it when the plane had crashed, he might have issued other orders that would have meant Ivy would have remained below decks. If he’d had time to concentrate—instead of focusing on releasing the pilot—he might have realised she’d slipped around the other side and into the path of the hood of the cockpit. If he’d delegated this task to Tony, he could be doing what he really wanted to do—checking on Ivy.

  If...

  Something struck him hard, like a blow to the chest.

  Tony’s head bobbed up. ‘She’s okay. Just a bad knock on the head. She’ll need a few stitches.’ His voice drifted away in the strong wind.

  Travis knew what he had to do next. Even though it hurt his heart.

  He looked up at his fellow crew members, gripping the sides of stretcher. ‘Sick bay!’ he yelled, and they all took off, running to the door.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  HER HEAD WAS pounding and she knew she was heading for another migraine. Tony had stitched her wound and sent her back to her quarters, but she was anxious to see Travis so she slipped into his office and waited.

  He was still working on assessing the unconscious pilot. It was an anxious time for everyone on board. Ivy had already heard that even though the winds had been gale force, the pilot had been cleared to land. As he’d landed, his plane had caught the tail end of a squall—notorious in the Pacific—almost flipping his plane over and making one wing catch the flight deck and causing him to crash.

  She could almost have heard a pin drop outside as everyone moved silently while doing their jobs, all praying the pilot would regain consciousness soon.

  Ivy wished she could help but knew that right now she would probably be a hindrance. She was worried about Travis and what she’d witnessed earlier. His PTSD was worse than she’d ever imagined. She’d seen those few seconds when he’d flashed back to somewhere else. It had been real to him. She had seen the flash of fear, the way his skin had prickled, his defensive posture and the rapid pulse at the base of his throat. For the briefest of seconds she’d wondered if she could actually bring him back at all.

  She’d been scared for him. Scared that he was reliving one of his worst experiences all over again.

  But she couldn’t pretend that part of her mind hadn’t wondered if he should be doing this job. She hated herself. She really did. But if she hadn’t been there to recognise what had happened and bring him back, how long would Travis have been frozen? What if another doctor hadn’t been around to take the lead on the rescue? It didn’t even bear thinking about.

  Ivy leaned back in Travis’s chair, contemplated for a few seconds then put her feet on the desk. She did feel a bit woozy and wanted t
o close her eyes for a few minutes. Give herself a chance not to think about all the stuff she probably needed to. Her feet accidentally knocked his laptop and the screen flickered on. It was open at his emails, and Ivy pulled her feet back down and stuck her hands out to automatically press the functions to lock the machine.

  But her hands froze.

  There was an email on-screen with her name on it. Her recommendation for SMO.

  Her heart twisted in her chest. She knew she shouldn’t look. Of course she shouldn’t look. But who wouldn’t when it was right in front of them?

  She pressed her lips together and scanned the text. She was only past the first few sentences when every muscle in her body tensed and she stood up. Travis hadn’t written her recommendation.

  He hadn’t written it.

  Her head started to swim. She stopped reading.

  It was standard procedure to ask the senior officer for a report on a candidate for promotion. It was unheard of for the senior officer to delegate that task to someone else.

  If Travis hadn’t written her recommendation it would raise red flags. And people could jump to conclusions about her fitness to practise, her personal conduct, her suitability for the job.

  It didn’t matter which one out of these was actually true. The fact he’d not written her recommendation would send a big enough message for people to ask questions. And in the navy mud and rumour had a nasty habit of sticking.

  Travis King had just ruined her career.

  There was only one reason for that. He didn’t think she was good enough to be an SMO.

  For a moment she couldn’t breathe. Why would he do that to her? Why?

  Didn’t he want her to be promoted? Was he trying to keep her next to him or, worse than that, junior to him?