Before There Was You

by Denise A. Agnew

  Lana didn’t want to admit how good that felt. A man had never tried to protect her before. “True.”

  “Give him a chance. If he can’t help you tomorrow or he does something else you hate, drop him like a bomb.”

  “Jillie, you’re getting damned bossy.”

  “I know. Blame it on old age.”

  “You’re the same age I am.”

  Her friend grinned. “I had to try. You need to learn how to drive again to save your sanity.”

  Lana wished that’s all it took to save her. “You’ve been so wonderful taking me everywhere. You’ve been more than generous. I have to learn to drive again.”

  Two parts of Lana fought for competition. Excitement that tomorrow she’d see Aaron and fear that she’d screw up and show him just what a failure she’d become.

  After Lana was in her apartment, had put on her pajamas and settled on the bed, she realized how damned tired she’d become. She yawned just as her cell rang.

  Mother no doubt. She’d forgotten to call her again.

  Lana answered when she saw her mother’s name on the display. “Hi, Mom.”

  “Hi. How are you doing?”

  “I’m fine.” Lana sank down on the bed, her head hitting the pillow as she yawned again.

  “Tired?”

  “Very. I don’t get it. It’s not as if I’m doing a lot these days.”

  “Perhaps the therapy is making you tired. The trauma of reliving things.”

  She had to give her mother that much. “Probably.” Enthusiasm took over. “I can’t wait to try driving tomorrow.”

  “Driving? I thought that failed last week.”

  Thanks for the encouragement, Mom. “It did. But I have help this time.”

  “Jillie?”

  Don’t lie. “No. Another person in the therapy group.”

  “Is that wise?”

  Lana took a slow breath, determined her mother and Jillie both wouldn’t dictate how or when she drove again. “Very wise.”

  “Who is it?”

  “A former marine.”

  “Oh, my goodness, Lana. But what if he’s dangerous? One of those guys who goes ballistic?”

  I thought of that, Mom.

  Lana hadn’t seen a violent side in Aaron. “He won’t. Relax. Jillie’s husband checked him out. He’s a war hero.”

  She waited for her mother’s response. “Well, I suppose that’s all right.”

  Lana didn’t have the patience for this tonight. “Mom is there anything you approve of? Ever?”

  Silence lengthened over the line. Finally Lana’s mother said, “I won’t be talked to in that tone.”

  “What you mean is, you never want anyone to disagree with you. Especially me. I’m tired, Mom. I’ll call you next week.”

  She hung up before her mother could say a word.

  Chapter 5

  When the doorbell rang Wednesday morning at eight, Lana had already suited up in T-shirt, shorts, and fanny pack. She was ready to go. She could do this. Probably.

  She looked through the peephole. Aaron stood there with his hands jammed in his shorts pockets, looking casual and relaxed. He wore a plain navy T-shirt. She opened the door.

  “Hey there,” she said.

  Aaron’s smile came easy and slow. “Hey. Ready?”

  “Yes.” She stepped out the door. “Let’s go before I totally lose my nerve.”

  He walked behind her as they took the steps down and headed toward her car. “You’ll do it. Guaranteed.”

  “You’re sure of that?”

  “More than sure.”

  “How can you be—”

  “Think positive, Lana. You have to have the right attitude.”

  His voice was sharper than she expected, and immediately she rebelled. “This won’t work if you bully me.”

  He took her arm at the bottom of the steps, and suddenly they were close. So close. But his touch was gentle, and he smelled like man and musk. A wave of sweet, hot attraction punched through her irritation. His gaze caught hers and held for a millisecond, but it was enough to send sparklers of arousal darting everywhere in her body. She felt flushed and needy, desiring a physical connection she hadn’t wanted with a man in so long.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “Sometimes I forget I’m not in the marines anymore and I get that tone.”

  “You can’t order me to do anything.”

  He released her, contrition on his face. “Of course not. When I taught the marine to drive the truck, he was lower ranking than me. I did order him to drive the truck, but I also helped him. Just like I want to help you.”

  Curiosity ate away at her. “Why do you want to help me?”

  “I like you. But I’m being selfish too. I think it’ll help me help you.”

  “How?”

  He planted his hands on his hips. “By giving me something useful to do. Paying it forward.”

  She sensed some guilt in his statement, as if he felt he absolutely must do penitence for a wrong.

  She nodded. “Okay. Let’s go.”

  As she walked toward her car, Lana realized his larger-than-life presence went a long way toward making her feel safe. Grateful, she forgave him for being momentarily bossy. He genuinely wanted to help.

  “We didn’t ask a counselor or therapist if this was a good idea,” Lana said.

  “Why would we need to?”

  She shrugged. “I guess we don’t. For a while there I sort of relinquished thinking for myself when I got back from Costa Rica. I’m not proud of it.”

  “You had a horrible experience. Something like that would have scrambled anyone’s brain.”

  “It did. It’s so razor-sharp and tender in my mind, I don’t know if I’ll be able to say anything about it when Addy brings it up. If she wants me to talk about it.”

  “She probably will.”

  “What if I can’t, Aaron?”

  His voice was soft and soothing. “I’ll be right there with you. Everybody is there to support you, right?”

  “Now you’re starting to sound like a therapist,” she said with a laugh.

  “Yeah. Kinda sickening isn’t it?”

  They laughed together.

  When they reached her SUV, she used the remote to open it and they climbed inside. Sitting in the driver’s seat, she closed the door and put her hands on the steering wheel.

  She glanced over at him and met his smile. “Wow. This is as far as I’ve been since I returned from Costa Rica. I mean, I’ve started the car and that’s about it.”

  “This is great, Lana.” The genuine satisfaction on his face, and the soothing way he said her name added to the crazy attraction she had for him. “Progress.”

  “My father would say…”

  “What would he say?”

  “That I finally got off my ass and had some courage.”

  “You’re kidding? He’d say that to you?” he asked.

  Her hands slid over the steering wheel. “Yeah. Dad isn’t exactly a warm and fuzzy guy. He doesn’t believe in giving anyone slack. He’s salt of the Earth. A rancher and farmer. He told me that PTSD is a crock. When Mom told him I couldn’t drive, he said that proved it made no sense. I didn’t have a trauma in a car. He doesn’t believe that PTSD can have weird symptoms that just…are.”

  When she glanced at Aaron, a strange expression filled his eyes.

  He snorted. “At one time I might have agreed with him.”

  She turned toward him, disbelief coloring her opinion. “Oh?”

  “I’m not proud of it. I didn’t believe in it until about ten years ago. When I saw how this last war ripped up some marines I’d known for a long time.”

  “Recon Marines?”

  “Some.” Silence gathered around them before he spoke again. “Want to try driving?”

  She twisted her mouth into a doubtful smile, but stuck the keys into the ignition, turning it on before she could think about it. It purred nicely, and within seconds she fell into the old mode of
her normal life. Everything was calm. Secure. Before long she’d backed out of the parking spot and pulled out onto the road. She headed south toward the road that would lead onto I-25. That’s when her throat started to tighten. Her body to rebel against her. Her breathing shortened.

  I’m safe. Healthy. Happy.

  I’m safe. Healthy. Happy.

  Her stomach tightened. Dread hit.

  “Oh, no,” she whispered. “No.”

  “What’s wrong?” His voice was calm.

  “This crap is coming back. I feel…it’s coming back.”

  He pointed to a nearby chain hotel parking lot. “Pull in here.”

  She counted the seconds as the dread ramped up. “Damn, damn.”

  “It’s okay.”

  She pulled into the parking lot and found a spot quickly. She turned off the ignition and covered her eyes with her hands as the dread rolled over her in a big, dark wave. She felt short of breath.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “I feel like I’m going to die.”

  “Is it the panic or you actually feel sick?”

  “Panic.”

  He touched her shoulder, and his big hand held strength and reassurance. “Easy. Take a deep breath. I’m here. You’re safe. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  She took one deep breath and then another. Embarrassment overwhelmed the dread and shrank it. She peeked out between her fingers and looked at him. A gentle smile touched his mouth and relief started to crush embarrassment. The dread began to seep away. Thank God.

  “You’re safe, Lana.”

  She dropped her hands away from her face, but his touch on her shoulder remained. “Thank you.”

  “Feel better?”

  “Almost normal now. That’s the quickest it’s ever gone away.”

  “How long does it usually last?”

  “The longest it’s lasted is a half hour. Most of the time it’s a few minutes.”

  “So you’ve made progress. This is good. We’ll rest here a minute and regroup. Let’s talk about something else and get your mind off it.” He unbuckled his seatbelt and turned toward her in the seat.

  A different sensation tickled her around the edges. Admiration. How could he calm her so quickly when no one else could? She couldn’t even calm herself that fast.

  Interest in his life pushed to the forefront of her mind. Once more she cataloged his features. The light brown, almost blond hair shot with red highlights, his intense eyes.

  “You’re out of the military, so why do you keep the über-short hair?” she asked.

  “It’s easy. In the barbershop, outta the barbershop. It’s been years since I’ve had anything close to long hair. I’d probably look weird as hell.”

  Right. She could tell his hair was thick and had the slightest wave. He’d be gorgeous with long hair too. “I wouldn’t think you’d care if you looked weird.”

  He grinned. “You’re right, I don’t. It’s mostly because I’m lazy. I spent a lot of time in godforsaken places with my hair growing and my face grizzled. Out on an op that lasts for days, you can’t give a crap if you’re starting to get ripe. I like staying clean and shaved these days.”

  “Makes sense.” She tilted her head to the side slightly. “Do you live in an apartment?”

  “Yeah. Chester Apartments down south.”

  “I know where those are. Older place.”

  “I’m planning on buying a house as soon as I get my act together.”

  “What kind of house?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “One level. Not sure how big yet, but maybe three bedrooms, tops, so I have room for guests or an office. Not like I plan on having a lot of visitors, but I’d like a little room.”

  “You’re not a social guy?”

  “I’ve never been a partier. I prefer reading and lying around with a sports channel.” He shrugged. “Running. Physical stuff like hiking is good too.”

  “Were you always that way, or did you become that way after the PTSD?”

  He took a bit to answer. “I’ve always been mellow off the job. That’s nothing new.”

  “I wouldn’t have guessed it.”

  A soft smile touched his mouth. “Why?”

  “You seem so…I don’t know. Bristling with energy? Intense? I never would have guessed a Force Recon marine would be a laid-back introvert.”

  His smile widened and he cracked his knuckles. “When I was a kid, I was a bit wild. My parents sent me to a special school for rambunctious kids who’d tested as gifted. The docs said I was ADHD, although back then they just called it hyperactive. My parents refused to put me on any kind of drugs, and at the new school I learned an appreciation for chilling out a bit and not trying to take every bull by the horns. They gave me challenges I needed.”

  “I’m impressed. Were you a troublemaker?”

  “Not really…well, okay, I think I could have been if they hadn’t enrolled me at grade school age. I was seven. It was an innovative place for those days in this area. Cost Mom and Dad an arm and a leg. I’ll always be grateful for what they did for me.”

  Lana envied him for just a moment. “Sounds like a great upbringing.”

  A cloud covered his face. “It had its challenges.”

  “And your sisters were smart too?”

  “Yep. My brother was…he was the golden child. Never needed special schools even though he was damned brilliant. He was the good boy.”

  A cold feeling came over her. “I remember you mentioned him in group.”

  He turned back to sit straight in his seat. “Yeah.”

  “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  He nodded, and his eyes were softened with sadness. “Craig would be forty-five and retired from the Air Force by now. He flew A-10 Warthogs. When the plane broke up, he was hit by debris.”

  Impulsively she reached for his hand as it rested on his thigh. Her fingers curled around his big palm. He turned his hand over, covering hers.

  He looked up at her, a warmth that quickly turned to heat blossoming in his eyes. “My parents were just relieved I made it out of the marines in one piece. They didn’t want to lose another son. I don’t think they’re finished grieving for Craig. I know I’m not.”

  “Of course. It can take a lot of time…and for parents I doubt it ever goes away. I’m so sorry,” she said again.

  Holding hands with him sent a frission of heat up her arm. As she gently tugged her fingers from his grip, the sensual slide of his skin against hers awakened a thick, drugging sensuality. She caught herself staring at his mouth, and when she met his eyes, she saw an answering need inside them.

  Quickly she jerked her gaze from his and placed her hands on the steering wheel. “I think I can drive back.”

  “Good.”

  To her surprise she could. All signs of the crazy dread had disappeared.

  When they arrived back at her apartment, she sat there smiling like a loon. “This was great, Aaron. Thank you so much.”

  “You’re welcome. Any time. You want to try again next Wednesday?”

  “Sounds good. I may drive myself to the therapy session tomorrow.”

  He nodded, and she was gratified he didn’t try and dissuade her.

  “If you change your mind and need a ride to the group therapy, I can pick you up.” He held up one hand. “Not saying you’ll need a ride, but if you do, you can call me. I’m assuming Jillie can’t change her schedule, whereas I’m as free as a bird.”

  She put her hand out to shake his. “It’s a deal.”

  They left her car, and he gestured to his Toyota RAV4. “Well, I’d better leave you in peace. I’ll see you tomorrow night, okay?”

  “Yes.” As he started to walk away, she called out, “A Toyota RAV. I wouldn’t have guessed that, either.”

  He turned around and smiled. “Why?”

  “Another stereotype I suppose.”

  “You expected a monster truck?”

  She laughed. “When I saw you
in the Toyota before, I was kind of expecting a wilder, more sporty car.”

  He shook his head. “Guess that blew your theory about marines right out of the water, didn’t it?”

  Heat filled her face. “I’ve learned a lot from you already.”

  He waved and kept that heart-stopping grin. “See you tomorrow.”

  A wave of comfort came over her at the idea of seeing him again so soon. “Tomorrow.”

  Back in her apartment for the day, she smiled from ear to ear. It had felt damned good to joke with a man. Joke? Hell, it had felt out-of-this-world to touch Aaron, and with him she’d felt so safe and protected. That had blown her away.

  She’d promised to call Jillie as soon as she returned from the drive. She sat at the dining table and quickly punched out her friend’s number.

  Jillie picked up on the first ring. “Hey, girlfriend. How did it go?”

  “Excellent.” She explained how she’d experienced the weird panic but talking with Aaron had banished the feeling long enough she could drive back to her apartment.

  “Damn, girl, you should bottle whatever he’s got,” Jillie said. “When you tried to drive with me that one time…well, you know how that went.”

  “Failure. This felt wonderful.”

  “That’s fantastic. Are you going to try and drive again with Aaron?”

  “We said we would next Wednesday, but I want to drive to the grocery store again tomorrow by myself. It isn’t that far away.”

  “All right. But you know I’ll be working and won’t be able to get away tomorrow morning if it doesn’t work out for you. We can go tomorrow evening if we have to.”

  Lana didn’t want to burden her friend with that situation again. “I’m going to do it.”

  When they ended the conversation, a sense of pride in what she’d accomplished arose, but so did a few doubts. What if she couldn’t drive without someone in the car?

  * * * *

  Aaron drove up to his parent’s house on the northwest side of Colorado Springs that evening and parked along the curb. He didn’t want to block the garage—Dad probably wouldn’t be home yet. Clouds hung over the Rocky Mountains, threatening a rain storm anytime soon.

  From their vantage point, he could see the burn scar from the Waldo Canyon Fire. They’d had to evacuate, and thankfully their home and development had been spared damage. While the evacuation on a moment’s notice and subsequent days they’d spent living with friends had been frazzling, it had been a cakewalk. Nothing was as bad as losing Craig. When he’d called from Afghanistan, they’d reassured him that them having to evacuate for the fire wasn’t a trauma big enough to send them into a tailspin. He’d wondered, half certain he’d learn his family home had burned in the fire. When it hadn’t, he’d been amazed and filled with gratitude.