I set it on the nightstand at a low volume and laid beside her. Her eyes were already closed, but I doubted she was asleep yet.
“Goodnight, Salem,” I said.
As I leaned over to kiss her cheek, I thought she thought I was going to kiss her lips and had closed her eyes and pushed her lips out ever so slightly. Fuck, it was tempting, but I wasn’t sure that was wise yet. The idea of touching Salem wildly excited me but scared the shit out of me too. It was clear that she wanted, and probably needed, physical touch to help her heal and reacclimate. But touching could be dangerous for both of us.
I had a lot of bleak, dark shit in my past, and this poor girl was trying to come back from a dark time. I’d worried that I didn’t possess enough good and light to pull her out of her darkness, but rather, I’d be pulling her into my own. I felt that she was relying heavily on me to pull her from her dark place, but I also saw her as a way to bring myself into the light.
I took hold of her chin, turned her head to the side, and kissed her soft cheek. In the moonlit room, I was still able to see her smile, even if she was disappointed … or what I thought was disappointed.
“Goodnight, Garrett. Thank you for everything.”
I pulled the sheet up to her waist and kept my hand on top of it for a few moments. I thought she would have been fine if I’d left my hand there all night, but there was still part of me that worried about getting too attached to her. I was able to push that to the side, and I drifted off to sleep feeling good about myself. Salem trusted me and felt safe with me.
* * *
The followingfew weeks were nice and calm, and there hadn’t been anything out of what I thought was the ordinary. I really began to think that James and Sam had completely overestimated the side effects of Sebastian’s environment on Salem.
We had gone to see one of the counselors, though, because Sam and James were pushing for that and for me to not be lax about it. Salem had been reluctant during the first couple of weeks and said she wasn’t ready to talk to a professional. I didn’t want to push her, but Sam kept asking me about it and said that it really was necessary for her. After a few more nudges, Salem agreed to go, and she did fine talking to the counselor.
Afterward, we went out to lunch. And then, in the afternoon, she’d made her favorite chocolate chip cookies with broken pretzel pieces in them. They were to die for, and baking seemed to be a calm and relaxing task for her.
Together, we’d cooked dinner and sat outside on the patio to eat. After we ate, she took the dishes inside, and when she came back out, she had a small paper plate of cookies. Playfully, she patted the inside of my knees to get me to part my legs and make room for her on the lounger. Once she was situated between my legs, she leaned back and handed a cookie over her shoulder for me. We stayed outside talking while we watched the blue sky turn to pink and then to navy. Every now and then she’d lace her fingers with mine, and I loved how her hands felt on mine. I was set on letting her do whatever her heart wanted to do, even though I’d battled some guilt still.
With the soundscape of rain falling lightly in the background, we settled into bed.
“I’m proud of you for talking with the counselor today, Salem,” I said.
“Thank you. I don’t think I could have done that on my own. Thank you for going with me.”
From my experience with counselors, I knew it wasn’t easy for her to share things, but I had hoped it helped her some. Though I’d tried, I wasn’t the best at starting conversations about tough topics. There were things that I didn’t talk about with people, and there were even things that Sam didn’t know about me. Suddenly, I felt like I could share some of it with her.
“When I came back from Baghdad from my assignment, I was supposed to see a counselor who had a specialized background with military and first responders, so I know it wasn’t easy to sit there and let someone dissect all of the parts that you guard more than others.” I revealed my thoughts on the counselor topic.
Salem knew I had been a sniper for the military and was stationed at the US Embassy in Iraq. During her first week with me, I’d woke up from a nightmare and had to calmly explain to her my military background and how old things sometimes crept up at night.
“Did talking to the counselor help?” she asked me.
Had it?
Absolutely not. If anything, it scraped open so many things that I had long forgotten and buried. After two months of seeing the counselor weekly, I’d called it quits. I would go to the appointments, nursing aches and emotional wounds that had been brought up during the last visit, and I’d leave feeling no better. Then the night would come, and everything would blend together to haunt me.
Could I dare say that to Salem?
“It’s difficult to say.” I took a deep breath while memories of shooting people down from above floated in my mind.Try to be positive, asshole!“I think everyone has a different experience when they talk to counselors. And I think you’re going to have a good experience.”
Salem slid closer and then craned her neck toward my face. My heart pounded hard because I could feel a kiss coming. It wasn’t for a lack of wanting the kiss, but I was afraid of pulling her into my abyss.
Her soft lips touched mine, and I placed my hand on the small of her back, gently holding her against me so she didn’t have to stretch. The greedy side of me won, but I tried not to move too fast. But damn, my mouth wanted to devour her lips. My mouth moved firmly and pushed against hers, causing my dick to stiffen. Before things got out of hand, I pressed my lips against hers and held us still for a moment. I pulled away from her mouth and whispered, “Goodnight, Salem,” against her puffy lips.
“’Night, Garrett.” She giggled and snuggled her body against mine.
I stroked her back and the arm she had strewn across my body. It was the last peaceful thing I remembered before a gut-wrenching nightmare nearly tore both of us apart. She woke up pushing against me, crying and slapping at me to let go of her. Unfortunately, being woken up like that threw me right back to Baghdad. Once I got my bearings, I worked on calming her.
“Salem, relax. It’s Garrett, baby.”
I tried to get her attention over her cries by repeating her name and reminding her of my name so she wouldn’t think I was an attacker. In a panic, she hurried off the bed while my shaking hands knocked things over on the nightstand as I attempted to get the lights on. As soon as the lights came up and she saw that it was me, she held her hands over her mouth.
“Salem,” I said as I walked around the bed to her.
