Holding a Hero

by Layne, Lyssa

  “Why aren’t you?” Of course, compared to his soft growl, mine was more of a high-pitched shriek.

  “I was until you woke me.” I felt him shift around and waited for him to move in a way that would somehow set me free from his embrace. I waited for nothing. Where I was on the verge of having a full-blown anxiety attack over our close proximity, he seemed to take no issue to the fact that he couldn’t take a breath without inhaling my shampoo and consequently, strands of my hair.

  “How did I wake you? I didn’t do anything.” My voice sounded slightly more rational than before, although now there was a definite indignant sound about it.

  “Your breathing changed and your body stiffened.” He moved again. This time I felt his leg move up in the crease behind my knee. How was he still finding ways to get closer to me?

  “Gee, I’m sorry. You think maybe you wouldn’t have noticed either one if you weren’t suctioned cupped to my entire body?” Seriously.

  “Joss.” There was a quiet amusement in his tone. “Where’s your hand right now?”

  “Huh?” I pulled it out from under the covers where I had it pressed to my own chest to keep from touching anything I wasn’t supposed to. “It’s right here. Why?”

  “Not that one. Your other hand.”

  If midnight shenanigans were going to be a part of these sleepovers in addition to everything else, I was really going to have to rethink matters. Meanwhile, I knew without a doubt that my left hand was tucked up under my pillow minding its own business where it was every night. Then, just to demonstrate, I went to retrieve it.

  Much to my horror, I was only half right about my assumptions. My hand was under my pillow. But it wasn’t there alone. Intertwined with my own fingers was another set, curled tightly against the palm of my hand.

  “Oh my God.” I could feel my entire body break out in hot flashes as I came to the humiliating conclusion that the man was only sleeping pressed up against me to be closer to his own limb. The one I was holding hostage under my pillow.

  Even after all that, I still hadn’t let him go, which I noticed when I used our combined hands to hide my enflamed face. “You should have said something. Or woken me up. Or at the very least yanked your hand out from underneath me so you could be more comfortable.” I was rambling, only adding to my state of complete embarrassment.

  “I was comfortable. I’m still comfortable.” I could feel him gently squeeze my hand in his. “Joss, I’ve spent years of my life feeling completely isolated from the bulk of the world. The only people who existed for me were the men in my troop and those we targeted. There was no warmth. No touch. No contact. Just a single cot. Lying here with you, feeling your heartbeat, the rhythm of your breath and the peaceful quiet of your body against mine, it’s the most comfortable I’ve been in a long time. But, if it weirds you out, I can go sleep on the couch like I was going to.”

  Part of me wanted to turn around and face him. That part of me was desperate. But the other part of me was too scared to, and that part won. Instead, I reached our hands back up under my pillow where they had been before my little freak out and pressed closer against his chest.

  “It doesn’t weird me out at all.” I closed my eyes and continued to repeat the words to myself in silence in hopes they would be true eventually. I fell asleep before that happened.

  Come morning, things had gone from bad to worse. Before I even opened my eyes, I knew Wyatt had climbed into bed with us. I could tell because I could feel the heel of his foot digging up under my shoulder blade. This kid had a tendency to sleep in some really unconventional positions.

  When I slowly turned myself around, I found him wedged in between Derek and me, lying upside down with his other foot shoved up under Derek’s chin. Incidentally, the latter seemed even less fazed by this than he had been by my taking his hand hostage. For a man who was used to sleeping alone on a cot with no real room to move or do much other than sleep lying in the mummy position, he was really taking exceptionally well to co-sleeping with me and my little monkey man. Cue second panic attack.

  With no paper bag on hand, I did my best to return to my original position, where I would be able to breathe into my pillow, or better yet, stuff it into my mouth to keep from breathing altogether until I was sure I wouldn’t hyperventilate. Of course, it took all of two seconds of me face planting into the cushion to realize my hand was still entwined with Derek’s underneath it. Meanwhile, I couldn’t feel anything down to my elbow because the whole damn thing had fallen asleep. Because, seriously, who slept like this?!

  Still trying not to disturb what undeniably happened to be the two most adorable men I’d ever seen in my life, I used my free hand to try and untangle the limp limb from Derek’s. I figured he wouldn’t notice anyway. I mean, what were the odds that the blood was still circulating through his arm after I’d been sleeping on it all night?

  Better than I’d thought apparently.

  “Trying to make a run for it?” The quiet rumble of his voice sent a whole new slew of sensations through my already overloaded system.

  “Just didn’t want to wake you guys,” I whispered hoarsely as I felt my throat clench. Slowly, I turned back to face them. Wyatt was still out cold.

  “This little dude is one crazy sleeper.” He chuckled softly, but didn’t even bother to remove the little foot still acting as his chin rest.

  “Yeah, this is actually pretty tame compared to the positions he usually winds up in. But then, he had less space this time. Any idea when it was he crawled in here and joined us?” It was the first time he’d ever done it without waking me. Derek’s presence was dulling my mommy senses. Yet another reason not to let my emotions take on roots so they could shoot for the sky, no matter how badly they were itching to do so. God, it would have been so easy, too. Looking at him here, not remotely concerned with the toes in his mouth, or the fact that he’d probably been kicked in the face multiple times since Wyatt’s arrival, my heart was freaking melting in my chest. Never mind how it took off beating through my ribcage at raceway speeds every time my eyes lingered on his, or the sexy half smirk resting sleepily on his lips. And, damn, that unshaven look was really fucking working for him.

  “He crept in the room about an hour ago. Said he didn’t want to wake you, so I helped him into the middle and he wiggled himself into a comfy spot and passed out two seconds later. Hope that’s okay.”

  My brows raised and my mouth fought its way into a smile. “It’s fine by me, but then I’m not the one sleeping with a stinky little foot in my face.”

  Derek gently tugged at Wyatt’s toes, laughing quietly. “Yeah, I’m not really sure how this happened. I swear he was right side up when I put him in the bed.”

  “You should see what he does when he has half the bed to work with. Usually he’s lying sideways, his body hanging over the edge of the mattress. It’s a miracle he never falls out of the bed.”

  Right around then, all of our chatting got Hattie’s attention. She’d been sleeping on the floor beside the bed. Now her head appeared on the corner of Derek’s pillow in an equally sweet and pathetic way.

  “I know. You’re wondering when we’re getting a bed big enough for you too, huh, girl?”

  He reached over and scratched under her chin which she seemed to enjoy. “Alright. How do I get out of here without waking him? Is there a trick to this?”

  I slowly lifted my side of the covers. “You just kind of roll out, like this.” In one smooth motion I was standing next to the bed, leaving Wyatt completely undisturbed.

  “Oh sure. Like I’m going to be that graceful,” Derek said dryly. “And what do I do about his little foot? It’s going to get cold when it’s no longer insulated by my neck and chin.”

  I stifled a laugh, not wanting to wake Wyatt when Derek was going out of his way to let him sleep. Not that he would stay that way much longer anyway. We had another fifteen minutes max before Wyatt bounced to his feet and then began his day at full blast. I wasn’t going
to tell Derek that though. Not when he was being so charmingly considerate that it was actually making me want to make him breakfast. And I didn’t cook for anyone. If it weren’t for Deb, Wyatt and I would have been living on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Okay, not really. But basically, yeah, I was limited in the cooking department. Not in ability, but certainly in desire. Until now.

  “Wyatt’s foot will be fine. Just stick it under your pillow after you’re up. He won’t care.”

  Derek left the bed causing slightly more commotion than I had, but still leaving Wyatt impressively unbothered, all things considered. Escaping a sleeping toddler was an acquired skill. One didn’t just come by that naturally.

  After an awkward moment of both of us just standing there staring at each other in silence, we followed it up with an even more awkward moment a second later when we repeatedly ran into each other while attempting to leave the room without making any further eye contact, something meant to avoid further awkwardness, but clearly, and suddenly obviously inevitably, completely backfiring.

  Some strange shuffle and dance moves later and we were practically running down the hall in opposite directions. I headed toward the bathroom to brush my teeth and in general assess the situation regarding my overall appearance, which as expected had not fared well overnight, and Derek hurried toward the front door to take Hattie out.

  ***

  I watched Hattie make her rounds, walking the fence line and sniffing every plant, leaf and twig along the way, and couldn’t help but smile. I knew it was temporary and pretend, but for a while – a brief enchanted moment in time – my life would be completely normal. I would experience the everyday things so many people took for granted and I never expected to encounter at all.

  Who knew sleeping with a partially numb and tingly arm while getting kicked in the face could be so satisfying? But it had been. I’d slept better than I could remember ever having done before. Sure, Hattie had eased the nights for me ever since I’d gotten her. Her presence alone had been enough to lessen the nightmares. The nightmares. Shit. How the hell would I explain those? Maybe they’d stop altogether now. Not likely. Maybe it was time to call a doc and get on some meds, but I just couldn’t see myself doing that. I had a handle on things. For the most part. The only question was whether or not Joss would be able to handle it, too. And when exactly I’d have to tell her…and how much.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The next few days seemed to fly by, probably because part of me was hoping time would stand still altogether, but then there it was, Saturday morning. The day of my wedding.

  Derek had moved the bulk of his stuff into the house already and we’d even managed to blend it in with all the crap that was already there. I’d always thought living with a guy would suck big balls, between dealing with shitty bachelor taste and gross boy habits, but I was pleasantly surprised. Derek not only knew how to put the seat down, he successfully hit the bowl every time as well. He didn’t leave wet towels on the ground and I’d witnessed him do one load of his own laundry already. Aside from his clothes, the belongings he deemed important enough to bring along for our marriage adventure included a small desk he had built himself using some old kitchen cupboards, which naturally I fell in love with instantly, the matching stool he had to go with it, Hattie’s giant bean bag chair and a vintage military footlocker he claimed contained his most prized possessions, but in reality was filled only with trivial things a boy would rather not part with like his old baseball glove and a remote control airplane he’d probably purchased way too late in life to ever admit or bring it out of hiding in front of anyone.

  All in all, I had nothing to complain about. Least of all the fact that I was enjoying some sexual perks on the side in addition to the fantastic new furniture. Much to my delight, the man’s penis was apparently engineered like a cat toy, capable of providing endless hours of entertainment, although we were still limiting our activities to straight sex. No foreplay, no cuddling after, and kissing only during the actual act. Well, while we were awake anyway. The two nights I’d spent with him since had gone down much like the first one, the only exception being that I hadn’t put up a fight anymore.

  Now that the big day was upon us and I knew it would entail more than a simple trip to the courthouse, I was standing in front of my closet staring at my clothes like a deer in the headlights. I didn’t have wedding attire in there. I’m not just talking nothing suitable for my own wedding, I’m saying I didn’t have anything in there I would even dare wear to someone else’s. Not that I ever got invited by anyone. It seems saying ‘I’m sorry’ in response to someone’s engagement announcement will not warrant an invite. In turn, I was sort of bummed no one had offered me their condolences when I’d been forced to share the news of my impending nuptials.

  Regardless, there I was, knowing full well that the justice of the peace Aunt Deb had hired, as well as the DJ and photographer, would be waiting out in my backyard for me come noon, along with about twenty other people she had seen fit to invite to this spectacle. Somehow, some way, I was going to have to pull a bride worthy ensemble out of my ass.

  I was contemplating whether or not I could get away with converting a floor length bohemian skirt into a sort of summer dress on such short notice when I heard a knock on the door shortly before it creaked open.

  “Hey. Deb wants to know if you’ve had a chance to write your vows yet.” Derek’s eyes were sparkling in clear anticipation of my emotional combustion.

  “Is she fucking kidding me? We’re not writing our own fucking vows! I don’t even want to exchange the traditional ones! A simple ‘do you want to get married?’ is all we need!” I gritted my teeth, literally growling as I prepared to dash from the room dressed in nothing but a towel.

  Derek caught me by my elbow as I was zooming by. “Hold on there, feisty-pants. I was just fucking with you.”

  My crazy face fell and turned to stone. “That shit’s not funny. You almost got her killed just now.”

  “Someone’s a little tense today.” He was mocking me with great enthusiasm. Like he didn’t know exactly what was making my muscles tighten up to the point of cramping.

  “Why aren’t you?” It was an excellent question. One I couldn’t wait to hear the answer to.

  But he just shrugged. “Nothing to be tense about.”

  “How do you figure? Even if the concept of marriage doesn’t frighten you, we’re about to commit fraud. Surely a law abiding citizen such as yourself finds that a little bit unnerving?” I certainly did. Although, I wasn’t really sure what the consequences would be if we got caught. I mean, neither of us was getting deported if we got busted. However, it likely wouldn’t help my custody battle any, which to me was kind of even worse.

  Derek reached up and began to massage my shoulders. His touch was strong and gentle at the same time, slowly but surely bringing distance back between my ears and my shoulder blades. “Listen to me, okay? This is not the scariest thing either of us has ever faced. We’ve been to war. We’ve had to battle. Two very different types, I grant you, but we both know how to fight, how to be courageous. But those skills won’t be needed today because today, the enemy is not invited. It’s just you, me and Wyatt making some simple plans to spend some time together…plans that will be overseen by a guy in a suit and witnessed by an audience of twenty. No big thing.”

  I laughed dryly. “Yeah, no big thing.” He’d left out the part where we were supposed to be keeping things platonic and uncomplicated for the sake of our little arrangements and instead were doing it like rabbits every chance we got. I couldn’t even deny that I was kinda thinking of doing him right then and there. That might have actually relaxed me a bit.

  As tempted as I was to unlatch the belt on his charcoal grey dress pants, I busied my hands by digging through the pile of clothes I had accumulated on my bed in search of something to wear.

  “You look too nice, by the way. Dress pants and a button up shirt?” On the other hand, maybe if
he had taken it to the next level by putting on a tie instead of leaving the top two buttons undone and revealing just enough skin to make me want to slide my hands inside, I would have been able to actually focus on getting dressed myself.

  “Bobby’s coming.” Like that was an explanation. My expression must have conveyed that it wasn’t a sufficient reason because he continued. “He’s your brother, and, I haven’t seen him since before we made our little deal here. I just feel like I need to do whatever I can to tip the scale in my favor so he doesn’t just walk in and punch me in the face for shacking up with his sister.”

  “Oh. That.” Generally speaking, my brother was the exact opposite of a badass. I wouldn’t necessarily come right out and call him a pansy, but compared to an ex-Navy SEAL, he really seemed about as scary as a kitten. Still, he could bluff like nobody’s business, so just because I knew he was easier to take down than a stack of pillows didn’t mean Derek knew. “I don’t think a nice shirt is going to score too many points with my brother. You know what will though? Keeping me from walking down the aisle naked.”

  He laughed. “I really think you’re making this harder than it is. Just pick the first dress you pull out of this mountain of clothes and call it good. You’re going to look beautiful no matter what you wear anyway.”

  “This is no time for flattery, Derek Tice! This is serious. The first dress I pull from the pile? Okay, let’s see. Here we go. You really want me to wear this?” It was a simple little baby doll dress with plain straps and a paisley pattern. It had been cute once upon a time. Then, after deciding I could touch up a dresser really quickly without going through the trouble of changing first, I’d gotten several spots of teal paint on it. From there, I’d seen little reason not to garden in it. Hence the stains along the hem of the dress, not to mention the hole on the side from where I’d gotten caught on a branch.

  Derek was busy examining the dress as well. He’d barely made it past the waist band before he started shaking his head. “Don’t you have anything you haven’t painted in?”