The Promise of Rainbows (20 page)

Her hands smoothed the tense muscles of his back as he flicked the seam of her mouth with his tongue. She knew what he wanted, and she opened for him. This kiss punched through her system, heating her blood, tightening areas of her body that were unaccustomed to passion. Then he softened his kiss and led her in what she could only decipher as a passionate dance, one she willingly followed.

When he gripped her hip, she found herself moaning into his mouth. A jolt passed through him, one she felt down to her toes. Her lips softened under his, and then his mouth was gone. She opened her eyes, which had fluttered shut some time back from the onslaught of sensation, only to discover his beautiful face in agony.

She touched his cheek, hoping to comfort him, and he met her gaze. The look in his eyes was like lightning striking a tree, summoning an answering fire in her.

“This wasn’t how I wanted our first kiss to be,” he said harshly, shifting her on his lap.

She realized he must be uncomfortable, but she was terrified to allow more distance between them. He settled her onto his knees, and she could feel him retreating again.

“It was a beautiful first kiss,” she said, stroking his face.

He let out a harsh breath. “It shouldn’t have happened after today. Heck, it probably shouldn’t have happened at all.”

“Don’t start all that talk again,” she said, cupping his face. “Look at me.”

Those cobalt blues had lost some of their heat, but they still radiated a powerful vulnerability. “This isn’t a good idea. After today…I’m worse off than before.”

“You let my mama be the judge of that,” she said, putting some steel back into her voice since he seemed to respond to it. “You’ll go see her, and you will overcome this, Jake. Look how far you’ve come.”

“How do you know how far I’ve come?” he asked with suspicion in his voice.

“I’ve read a little about PTSD, and if you’ve had any of the symptoms—”

“I’ve had
all
of them, Susannah.”

The way he emphasized that word sent ribbons of fear through her belly. Had he considered suicide then? She was too afraid to ask. “But you’ve overcome so much. To make your living by going on stage night after night is an incredible feat for someone with PTSD.”

“You have no idea,” he ground out. “I used to throw up before I went on stage, at break, and when I walked off. The crowd noise was pure torture at first, notwithstanding the crush of people. It was…” A shudder ran through his frame.

“And yet you do it all the time now,” she said, trying to encourage him.

“I still have a recurring nightmare, Susannah. A horrible one. One that makes me throw up. One that makes me keep the lights on at night.”

Her chest tightened from that revelation. What must it be like for a grown man, a military man, to admit to having to keep the lights on after a nightmare?

“You haven’t asked me out because of all this,” she concluded. “Am I right?”

“I promised myself I wouldn’t drag you down. My daddy and my brother have PTSD, but they won’t get help. I’ve seen the toll it takes on a family.”

She was starting to see the light now. He’d been exposed to PTSD as a child, and now he’d experienced it personally. “But you
have
been getting help. You’re different than they are.”

“Sometimes I wonder about that,” he admitted in a harsh tone. “Susannah, I don’t want to hurt you with all this. I’m broken.”

“Stop saying that. I care about you.” She ran her hands up and down his arms. “Don’t turn away from me. What’s between us…when you first held my hand…”

“I felt it too,” he admitted, his eyes narrowing. “From the start. But that doesn’t mean I’m good for you.”

“You are good for me, Jake.” She knew it in her soul.

He waved a hand at himself. “Not like this.”

His heels were digging into the ground again. “Does my mama feel it’s okay for you to date me?”

For a moment, the kitchen was completely silent save for the ticking of the retro wall clock he’d selected last week on one of their shopping sprees. She waited for him to answer, praying he would.

“She did before today,” he finally said.

Susannah took a deep breath. “Would you call her right now to see if she’ll meet with you tomorrow? I…don’t want to meddle…but I think it would be a good idea.”

“I’ll call her in the morning. It’s late. She’s not in the office.”

Since he didn’t argue about making the call, she knew today’s attack had scared him. “I have her cell.”

“Okay,” he said with a sigh. “She gave me her cell number at Rye’s house, but I don’t like bothering her after office hours.”

“My mama doesn’t keep office hours, she’s fond of saying. When people need her, she’s there for them.”

Digging out his phone, he made the call. He gave a brief and apologetic greeting and then launched into a quick version of what had happened earlier. “I’m with your daughter,” he added. Then he said, “Yes, ma’am” about four times
,
and a short while later he ended the call.

“I’m seeing Louisa at eight in the morning.” He set his phone on the table and pushed it away.

“Good.” Mama had moved her prayer breakfast back just like Susannah had thought she would. “When you meet with her, I want you to ask her if she still thinks you should go out with me. Will you abide by her wisdom?”

“I don’t know if it’s wisdom or folly,” he muttered.

“
Jake.
”

His mouth tightened. “All right. I’ll ask her, but there are some things you don’t know.”

Her belly quivered in fear. There was no doubt he had many secrets, ones she probably didn’t want to hear. But if he wanted to share them, she would listen. “Does my mama know them?”

“Some of them,” he admitted after a time. “Not all.”

“Then you tell her what she needs to know, and you tell me what you think I need to know. I trust you both.”

“You shouldn’t place yourself in my hands,” he said, looking away from her.

“You should trust yourself more,” she said softly. “
I
do.”

“That’s a mistake.” He exhaled sharply. “PTSD strips away all the trust you ever had in yourself and then some. It’s like…”

When he broke off, she caressed his face. “It’s like what?”

“It’s like I become a different person,” he admitted harshly. “Someone I hate being, and I can’t make him go away.”

She’d seen shades of it today, from the man who’d closed down emotionally to the one too paralyzed to change lanes on the highway. “That’s not your fault.”

“And yet it puts you at risk. You and anyone else close to me.”

“That’s crap,” she said boldly. “Have you ever, in all your time of dealing with your PTSD, thought of hitting another person? Be honest with me. I think we’re past the point of telling tales.”

He sighed. “Not a woman. My shrinks called me one of the protective types. I want to defend the people I care about more than I want to lash out at them. When I first got out, I had the urge to hit a guy for talking smack to a girl I was seeing. But I didn’t.”

“Then I don’t see why you should be worried,” she said calmly. “I’m not.”

“You don’t know…”

“Jake, I’m not scared of you.” And she meant every word.

He gently set her down on the opposite chair and stood. “Well, I’m scared enough of the other Jake for both of us.”

She was silent for a moment, and so was he. Now that he had an appointment with her mama, she could leave. But there was no way she was going to do that just yet.

“You don’t have to babysit me,” he all but growled.

She decided to ignore that. “How about we order in and watch a movie? It’s suppertime.”

“I’m not hungry.” His mouth flattened. “You should go home.”

She decided to try another tactic. “Didn’t we just have our first kiss? You’d think you could buy me dinner and watch a movie with me.”

Part of her was surprised at herself. Where was she getting all this boldness?

“This is the worst first date on the planet.” His dramatic eye roll punctuated his feelings on the matter.

“So there’s room for improvement.”

He pointed his finger at her. “I need to do some thinking after today—independent of what your mama thinks about us dating. It’s been…intense.”

“That’s a good idea.” Intense seemed a tame word if you asked her. “What would you like to order?” she asked, standing up.

“Are you really hungry?” he asked, scanning her face.

She didn’t think she could force down a bite, but maybe if she ordered something, he would eat. That would be a step in the right direction, wouldn’t it? “I could eat. How about BBQ?”

“Fine,” he said without enthusiasm.

She extended her hand to him, and he took it after a few moments, making her breathe a sigh of relief.

“Are you planning on holding my hand for the rest of the evening?”

“You can bet on it,” she answered, making herself smile.

Chapter 15

When Mama called at eight o’clock at night and said, “Text your sister, Susannah, and tell her that you’re praying for her,” Shelby listened. Those words meant it was time for their family to circle the wagons around one of their own.

Of course, Mama didn’t give one teeny weensy hint about what she knew, but Shelby expected it had to be something with Jake. What in the world was going on?

She immediately texted Susannah. And then she stewed. Had Mama called anyone else? She wished she’d thought to ask.

Worry wedged under her breastbone as she fiddled with the papers on her office desk. She’d worked late after a long business lunch with Gail, who seemed to be doing better. She’d brandished her rust-colored pill bottle of Lipitor in one of Nashville’s finest restaurant and announced rather loudly she was taking care of her cholesterol. Since Gail was a well-known figure in Nashville, plenty of people had taken notice, and she’d left with a pleased smile on her face.

Her fiddling didn’t help much. Most days it looked like a tornado had blown across her desk. Shelby liked it that way. Her numbers were all around her—like they were swirling inside her head. Sometimes she felt like she could dance with them, she saw them so clearly.

Of course she’d never told another soul about that. It would make her sound as loony as Lavender May, their old neighbor growing up who liked to wear real bird nests in her Sunday church hats because she said, “Jesus liked him some birds.” Personally Shelby thought the woman was taking Matthew 6:26, the Bible verse about God caring for the birds, way too far.

Tidying the mess gave her something to do as she watched the clock. She was closer to Susannah’s townhouse from her office, so if she didn’t hear from her sister in twenty minutes, she could head over. She was mostly finished anyway.

But tidying her desk got old real fast, so Shelby’s thoughts turned to the one that had been pressing on her heart and mind. Since her conversation with Gail in her office, Shelby hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her daddy’s medical history. For all she knew, she was a ticking time bomb like Gail had been before her diagnosis.

During lunch with Gail, Shelby had asked for the woman’s opinion on her using a private investigator since it had been her idea. Gail had immediately recommended Vander Montgomery, assuring Shelby he was the best P.I. in the city and easy on the eyes to boot. She’d used him on more than one occasion, but refrained from explaining why beyond the issue with her ex. It had been hard not to press her out of curiosity. Gail could be mysterious sometimes.

After clicking on Vander’s website link, Shelby had to admit Gail was right about him being dreamy. Good Lord, with a name and a face like that, he could play a starring role in a TV show. He didn’t sport a mustache like Magnum P.I., thank God, but he had the same thick, dark curly hair. His eyes were a shade between green and blue. She’d call them aqua if she had to pick, rather like the Caribbean waters in all those vacation ads. His lips were full. Yum. But he didn’t smile. In fact, he was downright serious.

She remembered she was supposed to be fussing about Susannah and immediately felt guilty.

Then she saw one of his endorsements was from the now-mayor of their fine city. Another was from Donald Blanders, the CEO of Giant Inc., whom she respected. No wonder Gail used him.
Vander
wasn’t just a pretty face. Not that Gail would hire a moron.

She wasn’t ready to hire him today, so she clicked off his website, rubbing the tightness in her chest with her free hand. This would be a big step, and she wanted a little more time to make sure it was in the right direction.

She jumped when her phone rang. Snatching it up, she saw that it was Sadie.

“Hey, girl,” she answered.

“Did Mama call you?” her sister asked, her voice full of intrigue.

“You mean about prayer texting Susannah?”

“Yes. Goodness, it gave me a fright, having Mama call me like that. She hasn’t used the Sibling Hotline for a while now.”