"Here goes nothing." She set down the wrench on her bathroom floor and stood to turn on the water at the sink. The pipe still dripped underneath. "Seriously?!" Heaving a sigh, she slammed off the water and grabbed the wrench that she'd stolen from Jason's workshop. It couldn't be this hard to fix a leaking pipe.
Locking the wrench around where one piece of plastic pipe joined another and dripped, she leaned back with all her weight. And plopped on her bottom as a loud crack and pop filled the air. A chunk of the pipe nestled in the wrench - still in her hand. Her mouth fell open and she stared at it for a moment. The rest of the pipe stuck out of the wall with one shard quite a bit higher than the other, as if flipping her off for being yanked and twisted the past fifteen minutes.
So much for fixing it herself. With a sigh, she got up. The wall would likely have to be cut out to replace the pipe wherever it joined the next one.
"The meatloaf is done!" Trudy walked in and stopped in surprise. "Pete and Dr. Port know how to fix plumbing like a bee and honey, don'tcha know."
"Don't say a word." She dropped the wrench back in the heavy toolbox. "I thought I could fix it myself. Jason's been holed up in his office since Olivia left this afternoon, and I didn't want to make him do repairs his second day home."
Trudy, ever faithful, didn't laugh or tease. "My lips are sealed like a seal's."
"Thanks." She wiped the back of a hand over her brow. "I'll wash my hands and then get Jason for dinner."
"Don't wash 'em in there." Trudy pointed to the broken sink and smiled.
"Ha ha." She threw the gentle woman a look.
Downstairs, she poked her head in his office where symphony music swept through the room from his phone. "You're still in here? Trudy made meatloaf."
Jason glanced up from his desk, wearing his typical white dress shirt and black pants. The white bandage covering the slowly healing scars on the right half of his face and head still tugged at her heart. After two months, it shouldn't hurt this much to see him bandaged anymore.
His gaze returned to the ledgers spread across the mahogany desk. "I'm not hungry, Emma." His deep baritone held no emotion.
She walked over. "Come. Your pants are a bit loose around your waist since the doctor took you off that high-protein diet to get your skin to heal. You have a bit of hospital pallor, and it's my job to fill you out again." With a smile of encouragement, she wrapped a hand around his wrist.
Without a word, he pulled away and picked up a pen.
Setting a hand on his arm, she searched the left side of his face not hidden by the bandages. "Are you sad about Olivia going home?" The man had taken to Trudy's niece yesterday and had spent meals feeding the toddler rather than dining with anyone. Trudy hadn't had to lift a finger as babysitter.
A simple shrug of his left shoulder came as his only response.
Perhaps it hadn't been purely attachment to the child. Perhaps Olivia had been a means for him to avoid facing the fact that daily life would be different - more difficult - than it had been a couple months ago. It was still his first twenty-four hours home. Maybe he just needed some time.
"Jay, you wouldn't let me be there when you ate in the hospital, and you don't have to let me see at this point in time either. Come sit with me for a few minutes during dinner like you used to, if you won't even eat in the shadows at the other end of the table."
"There is no 'like I used to.'" Rather than anger, sad realization filled his voice. "I didn't used to eat like such a beast that I couldn't be in your presence, or have absolutely no control over when I needed to wipe my mouth. I used to be able to pleasure my wife."
She sat on the edge of his desk, an ache in her chest for how hard this had to be for him. Just after he'd finally started gaining self-confidence in the marriage, the SEALS mission had happened and set him back so far. "Is that why you insisted on feeding Olivia at every meal and slept in the spare bedroom with her last night? To avoid me?"
"I don't avoid you." Then he reached for a bill, as if in an attempt to dismiss the conversation. He spoke quiet and matter of fact. At one time, he would've snapped and snarled to push everyone away, but he seemed so downtrodden now.
"Jason, we talked about this yesterday that I won't touch you in the bedroom until you're ready." How strange it was to not be the one afraid in bed, but it was a role gladly taken if it would help him. "As far as eating, you used to eat in the dark on the other side of the table. I've hardly seen you eat, so I won't really know any different. Even so, I could care less how clean or messy you are - I eat with you because I want your company. And your lip neither disgusts nor phases me; it is what it is. I married you for you, not your lip. Be patient and give yourself time - it's only been two weeks since you lost more of your lip. The speech therapist says you'll adapt more yet." Then she looked down at the ledgers spread across the desk. "I kept up on the bills while you were in the hospital. You're holing up in here to avoid Trudy, Pete, and I."
That had been the wrong thing to say, perhaps making him feel useless that he wasn't even needed for paying bills, because his entire body tensed. Changing the topic would be best. "You know how the pipe in the bathrooms curves under the sink...?"
The man blinked at the sudden change in conversation. "The sink?"
She fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, a flush creeping up her cheeks. "How far does that go in the wall before connecting to another pipe?"
His brow furrowed. "It can be a few feet sometimes. Why?"
Lovely. "Just curious. So, if it broke, a hole needs to be cut in the wall?" She nibbled a lip. This might not be good.
"Did you break the sink?" His eyebrow cocked.
Her jaw dropped and she held out her hands. "Why do you assume I broke the sink? Maybe I just want to know how to fix something to be more handy around the house."
"Yes, you're suddenly incredibly interested in plumbing. Show me what you did." He heaved his muscular frame out of the chair.
"It's nothing. Pete can fix it." She set her hands on his chest to stop him. "It's your first full day home. You don't need to do repairs."
He cracked a smile - the first since Olivia had left. "You did something really stupid, didn't you?"
"No!" Propping her hands on her hips, she scowled at him. When his eyebrow rose, her hands dropped. "Maybe. I thought I could fix it!"
"Show me." His large hand rested on the small of her back to urge her along.
In her bathroom, she opened the cabinet under the sink to reveal the damage.
He smiled and picked up the chunk of broken pipe. "What did you do? Bomb it?"
"It was dripping, so I tried to twist it tighter. I leaned back to get a better angle and it broke. We have to tear out the wall, don't we?"
"'We' aren't doing anything." His eye twinkled for the first time in weeks. "You aren't allowed near pipes anymore."
"Har har, that's so funny." She rolled her eyes.
He knelt and inspected the damage. "I can saw off the pipe just below the break and connect a new piece so we don't have to cut into the wall."
"I'm sorry. I thought I could fix it so you wouldn't have to."
The smile still lingered when he stood and set a hand on her back. "It'll take just a few minutes to fix. Ms. Van Hoodie wanted to get groceries tonight, so Stevens can pick up some pipe. I can teach you how to fix it."
"Okay." She wrapped her arms around him and rested her head on his chest, his heartbeat a soothing rhythm that would never grow old to hear. "It's so good to have you home." Those strong arms cocooned in a safe embrace. "Come eat with me." She leaned back in his arms with a smile.
All the joy left his face. "I'll sit with you while you eat."
Pressing her lips together, she nodded. It would have to be enough for now. "Do you want to eat first? I don't want to eat in front of you while you're hungry."
His tone and expression held no emotion. "It takes a minimum of a thirty minutes to eat now. Your food will be cold before then."
"Are you going to eat with me again sometime? I know it's hard right now and you're trying to adjust, but I don't want things to go back to how they used to be." Wrapping her arms around his middle, she laid her head against his warm chest again.
Silence but it wasn't due to a negative answer - he seemed so lost that he didn't know if he could answer 'yes.'
Straightening, she took his hand and stepped back in encouragement when hesitation colored every line of his face. "Come take me down to supper." He needed reassurance and to feel independent and needed. Coincidentally, those things came so naturally to give him.
"Don't placate me." The growl came out low and irritated, but he offered his arm all the same.
She grinned and linked her arm through his. "I'm not. Even if I was, I like my bear when he growls."
He turned into the hall, offering only his profile and abrasive manner. "Most women have the sense to fear the bear."
"Ah." She nodded and touched a finger to her chin as she looked down at the hallway runner. "But most women don't know what a good protector the bear is or how cuddly he can be."
The man offered a sideways, gruff look.
A smile spread across her lips, and she stepped in front of him near the top of the stairs. She pecked a kiss on his cheek. His scaly armor would've left her cowering a year or two ago, but it failed to cause hesitation anymore. "I love you." Then she tugged him down the stairs to dinner.
At the dining table illuminated only by a single candle, he pulled out her chair and sat to her right once she settled. Trudy had left place settings at both spots. Steaming meatloaf, creamy mashed potatoes, and crisp green beans with almonds filled the plates.
She glanced at him. All his favorite foods might be enough to entice him to not wait to eat. After saying grace with him, she picked up her fork. He seemed determined to not acknowledge the food and focused on her. The aromas would do the coaxing; she just had to make him relax. "With all the bussle, I don't think I mentioned that the sex trafficking case with the FBI closed yesterday."
Tension melted from his shoulders, either from not talking about his injury or from the case he hated being over. "Good. The maniacs you were hunting have been caught?"
With a nod, she popped a piece of meatloaf in her mouth...and tried not to gag on this disgusting goo that he liked so much. She took a drink to slide it down without having to chew much. "We actually got them and what we think is a quarter of the network in South America."
His eyebrow rose. "Impressive. I'm surprised at how organized you were working in the hospital with all the distractions."
The fork traveling to her mouth halted, unsure what to make of that comment...or maybe compliment. "I tried to work mostly when you napped and in the evenings. I used all my PTO - "
"I know you had to drain your PTO on account of me and used Family Leave too. I appreciate it, but it wasn't necessary." That warm blue eye locked on her for a moment before releasing.
She blinked. This had taken conversation a strange turn. "Why wasn't it necessary? You were in ICU and then the burn unit. You would've stayed with me in the hospital if I'd been in there."
He nodded and looked down at his full plate. "I should be grateful that you wanted to stay. Forgive me, I'm not the best companion this evening." He stood. "I shall bid you good evening." Then he took her hand and grazed a kiss over her knuckles.
When his footsteps reached the doorway, she found her voice and spoke not in blame but in confusion. "Why can't you stomach me since coming home yesterday?" His footsteps halted. She turned and looked him in the eye. He wanted to shut down and push her away, but she'd be damned if things would regress back to that.
"I wish to be with you every moment. But I will not make you my nurse and speech therapy practice partner and psychologist... You need a break from me after two months of intense caregiving as much as I need to figure out how to stand on my own feet again. You're the most beautiful, precious thing in the world to me, whom I used to have trouble not desiring. Now there's nothing..."
Depression and low self-esteem had escaped him in the hospital, but they threatened now. Her lips pressed together. The man proved to be so damn stubborn. "Sit down and eat, Jason. We will sleep in the same bed tonight, and I will not, not cuddle up to you. Giving you space will only give you time to pull away and fall back into old habits. We are partners in this, and I refuse to let you segregate yourself."
"Partners? What the hell is there that you can do about this?" He threw up his arms, his eye dancing with rage in the candlelight. "I can't eat or talk without this goddamn bandage. I can't even desire anymore when seeing my new bride naked in the shower!"
"So you're just going to give up? You're a fighter, Jason. All I'm asking is that you try." It took every ounce of self-control to remain calm and not shake some sense into him.
His finger jabbed toward the floor and he took an angry step closer. All of the frustration and heartache and grief snowballed inside. The veins in his neck bulged as he finally exploded and roared, "I have been trying for two months and it's left everything worse than before!" The words echoed throughout the house.
She remained silent and calm, giving him this chance to explode all of the emotions he'd kept bottled up.
His chest heaved from the outburst, every line of his face so overwhelmed and stressed. When he buried his face in his hands, she stood to go to him. He lifted his head and held out a hand, his heart so obviously aching. "Don't."
Her heart stopped in it's tracks as much as her feet. So many emotions battled in him that he needed time alone - a safe place to lose control without worrying who saw. When he turned and headed upstairs, it took every ounce of strength to not go after him.
He reclined on the bed with his ankles crossed and read a book when she peeked in his doorway a half hour later. His white dress shirt and black slacks had been replaced by a t-shirt and jeans. It'd been a long time since he'd worn anything so informal at home. It spoke volumes about his confidence level too. Even his manner seemed so quiet and withdrawn.
She sat down on the edge of the bed and set his warm plate of food on his other side. His eye stopped skimming across the page, but he didn't look up. It hurt seeing him like this. Something inside him had shut down, as if tired from this battle he'd already been fighting for five years and had so very many, harder years left. "I left it in the oven to stay warm." No reaction. "Jay, what can I do? And don't tell me nothing. Even if sitting next to you and neither of us saying a word all day will help, it's something." She kept her tone soft and patient, aching to do anything to ease the weight of some of this cross he bore.
That vivid blue eye had become more and more gray since the lip surgery. He stared at the book with such sadness and gave a slow shake of his head, as if even more lost than her.
"Will you eat? Either in here or downstairs? You can eat by yourself, if you want." She set a hand on his leg.
He glanced at the plate like it was something to be dreaded.
"You like that food, right?"
His head tilted in a slight nod.
Having to eat was what he dreaded. His missing teeth only compounded the difficulty of losing more of his lip. If he had as much trouble as she suspected, he'd need to eat at a table. And he needed someone to show him the monster was just a mouse.
She picked up his plate and held out a hand, protectiveness for him swelling in her chest. "Come, Jay. You can eat in the kitchen where it'll feel homier." And also where he could have access to the sink to eat over, if needed. "I'll tell Trudy and Pete to leave you in peace, and I'll be in my bathroom cleaning out under the sink so the pipe can be fixed." She took his hand, the dear man needing a bit of a push to leave the bedroom.
Each minute longer he remained downstairs wound a tighter knot in her stomach. She glanced at the clock on her nightstand across the room from the bathroom. Thirty-four minutes.
It wasn't fair that he suffered so much. And for nothing - he'd gone back into that fire to find a little girl who'd burned so much that a body hadn't been found and his big brother/father figure had gone in after him and died. The scars had to remind Jason every day of what he'd lost, much less the physical hardship he carried too. Another minute passed and she stood to go check on him.
He stepped around the corner into the bathroom.
"Oh!" She stopped short, almost running into him, and smiled. "That was quick."
The quiet expression on his face didn't change. "You're a bad liar."
Pecking a kiss on his cheek, she took his hands and grinned, letting his comment fall on deaf ears. "Let's get out of the house for a bit and go for a walk. You haven't been outside for months. The sun just set and it's a warm night."
His head cocked just a bit, as if intrigued by something.
"What?"
"Nothing."
She linked her arm through his and wandered the side of the road at a slow pace. A cool breeze from the snowy mountains washed away the heat of the summer day. Stars twinkled in the sky. Taking a deep breath of the fresh air, she sighed and looked up. "I don't tire of the stars here. They were so dim and not as many in the city. And the moon is so big and bright out here."
"You don't miss the bustle of Chicagoland?"
She shook her head. "I couldn't ever move back after being out here. It's so open and beautiful with the mountains." Then she leaned her head against his shoulder, a warm, fuzzy feeling growing inside being with him under the stars. "Do you like it?"
"I like wherever you are." Intimacy rather than lust deepened his voice to a husky quality.
Butterflies flitted inside. It had been so long since having a romantic evening with him - one outside of the hospital. He wasn't ready to make love, but he seemed to be starving for the emotional connection of intimacy like this and yet afraid of it. She laid her other hand on his arm to be closer. "I know you're having a hard time right now, but don't forget that I'm right here. I need you to not be shy about telling me if I should be smothering or am too smothering or pushing too hard...I wish I just knew what to give you. It's not for lack of wanting."
"I know, Emma." He set a hand over hers. That strong brow furrowed as he stared at the ground, and he remained silent for several more steps. "I wasn't ready for things to be harder than before." The words whispered from his lips. "The past twenty-four hours have been such a rollercoaster. One minute I'm ecstatic to be home, the next I want to rip down the house - literally. Then the next I want you to hold my hand like a child and then, at the flip of a switch, I can't stand to have you see me. I don't even know what I want, Emma." Sadness vibrated from him.
"Give yourself time. I notice no difference in your speech when you have the bandages on, and it's greatly improved without the bandage. Personally, I would say you don't need the speech therapist anymore, and I'm not just saying that." She glanced up at his profile, his eye remaining on the road like he absorbed her words. "The more you eat and kiss, the more you'll adapt to your lip. And yes, that is a way of saying I want to be kissed more." She held back a smile.
The corner of his mouth curled up a hint.
"As for the bedroom, once these other things begin to iron out, that will resolve itself. I expect it will take several weeks for us to find our footing with everything and probably a few weeks after that until you have any interest in making love. So, if I am not putting pressure on you, I have no idea why you're putting pressure on you. That's all there is to it, so stop stressing about it."
A soft snort escaped him. "You make it sound so easy."
"Did I? I simply thought it sounded doable," she said, stealing Nana's wise phrase.
He pulled his arm away to wrap it around her waist and continued on in silence for the remainder of the walk. Through the silence, he spoke so intimately - more than words could ever say and more than he had in weeks.