“I’m a mess, kitty. One big ball of mess. I can’t live like this.”
Tears pricked her eyelids and she blinked, refusing to let even one fall. The time for crying was over. It didn’t do anything other than bring back the feeling of abject helplessness.
The knock on the door startled her. She shook her head at her idiocy. It was just Garrett. Garrett, who she was supposed to have waited for on the porch. Garrett, who she’d agreed to have dinner with.
She sat there for a minute, indecision wracking her mind.
“Sarah, it’s me, Garrett. Can you come grab one of these bags?”
The request acted like a slap in the face. She lurched to her feet and hurried over to open the door, forgetting that she planned to hide in the house and ignore him when he came over. Yeah, that was mature.
She swung the door open to see him looming in the doorway, his arms full. She reached for the bag on top, which leaned precariously, and pulled it away. She stepped back but he didn’t make a move to enter. He just looked at her while she fidgeted like a moron.
“Come in,” she invited, stepping back again.
He smiled and walked past her. “Mind if I put these on your table?”
She hurried around him to put her own bag down. “No, go right ahead. Whatever you need. The fridge is over there.” She pointed at the obvious and then felt ridiculous. “Of course it’s there. Hard to miss.”
Garrett plopped the stuff down on the table and then turned to her. His expression was serious but he didn’t make a move toward her. “Relax, Sarah. You don’t have to be nervous. If you aren’t comfortable with me being here, I can go. No problem.”
Was this guy for real? He was so calm and ... unthreatening. Which, God, she needed. She couldn’t do threatening right now. She needed something sturdy. Something to believe in even if just for the space of a dinner.
“I’m losing my mind,” she said in a cracked voice. “I want you to stay. That is, if you still want to.”
“What I want is for you not to be afraid. I want you to feel safe.” He took one step toward her but hesitated as if testing her willingness to let him close. Then he touched her jaw—just a fingertip. But she felt it all the way to her soul. “You’re safe with me, Sarah. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”
Coming from anyone else, the statement would be melodramatic and corny. But he didn’t so much as blink when he made the declaration. He was dead serious, and the thing was, she totally believed him. She wanted to believe him.
She stood there, not flinching away from his touch. It was ... nice. Comforting on a deeper level she didn’t quite understand. It had been a long time since she’d taken so much pleasure in a man’s touch. Just the simple gesture, the brush of his fingers. It touched something inside her that had been paralyzed with fear for so long.
“Who are you?” she blurted. “Are you real? Or did I conjure you up?”
He looked startled by her question. He cocked his head to the side and then emitted a soft chuckle. “I don’t know about me, but the food’s real.”
She peered curiously at the bags on the counter. “What did you bring?”
He turned and open up one of the sacks and pulled out a package of steaks. “I thought we’d start with a little meat, progress to more meat and finish with—”
“Let me guess. More meat?”
He grinned. “I’m a growing boy. Need my protein.”
She rolled her eyes and then frowned when her gaze lighted on his shoulder. “How did you hurt yourself?”
He lifted one brow and leaned his hip against the counter.
She flushed. “I watched you from the window. It seems to bother you when you’re exercising.”
He flashed a wry smile. “Yeah, I might have met with the wrong end of a bullet.”
She blinked. “Is either end of a bullet good?”
For a moment he stared at her and then he threw his head back and laughed. “Okay, you totally got me there.”
“So what happened?”
“Let’s just say some bad people were trying to hurt someone I love.”
“And shot you in the process? You look military. Were you in the army?”
He visibly shuddered. “Army? Hell no.”
She studied him through narrow eyes. “Marine? You used to be a Marine?”
“I am a Marine,” he corrected.
“Oh, you’re still enlisted then? Are you on leave?”
“You sure do ask a lot of questions. I feel like I’m playing volleyball.”
She flushed. “Sorry. I get carried away.”
“S’okay. And no, I’m not enlisted anymore. But we don’t exactly call ourselves former Marines.”
“Oh, yeah. Once a Marine ...”
He nodded.
She pursed her lips, ready to ask another question then thought better of it. He smiled. “You can ask. I was only kidding about you asking so many questions. Well, not kidding, but I don’t mind.”
“You’re awfully laid-back,” she said.
He looked at her in astonishment and then laughed again.
“What’s so funny?”
“Oh man, I gotta tell my brothers you said that. They’d kill themselves laughing. They think I’m the most uptight son of a bitch who ever lived.”
Shock widened her eyes. “Really? But you seem so easygoing. So ... calm.”