“With all due respect, your father sounds like a dick,” Wren told him. She half turned to face him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the ghost stiffen, affronted. By what? Wren dissing his high-ranking father? Yet, he stayed there, as if needing to hear more.
Weird. This town was so fucking weird.
“Dane, have you considered the idea that burnout is your body yanking on the emergency brake to protect you? That your mind and body couldn’t cope anymore, and it needed you to step back and reassess? You’re a smart guy, you know that you can’t look after other people unless you take care of yourself first.”
Intellectually, he did; he was still struggling to make sense of it emotionally. “To my father, strength is control.” He thought he’d let go of everything his father believed, but, obviously, the General’s mindset shaped him more than he wanted to admit.
Wren softly swore. “I think your father is confusing stoicism with virtue. Duty with ego.” Wren ran her hand up and down his arm.
“I spent many years convincing myself that all I needed to do was work, to serve … inmyway.”
“And you think that leaving your post to take care of yourself is weak, that you should feel guilty for that?” There was no judgment in Wren’s voice, so he jerked his head in a quick, sharp nod. On the stage, the soldier shifted, and Dane felt his attention sharpen.
Wren placed her forehead against his bicep, then kissed it before she pulled back. “Dane, you’re not weak, nor should you feel guilty. You’ve seen so much, worked so hard, and I know you’ve saved so many lives. You’re allowed to retreat, to take some time for yourself, to rebuild.” She bit her lip, as if wondering if she should say whatever else was on her mind. “Can I remind you that there will always be people for you to save? But only you can save yourself, and that’s what you’re doing by retreating. You are worth saving as much as they are.”
She sent him a soft smile. “You run toward danger, but you run from emotional risk.” She tried to smile. “And that’s not a criticism, I do the same thing.”
She hugged his arm, and he gripped her thigh, anchoring himself with her presence. What a night. He was emotionally and physically whipped. But treating Tad had made something click into place. He didn’t freeze, and he’d done what he needed to do. And yeah, maybe he was ready to go back to work.
Dane looked at the stage and frowned. The soldier was gone, the bunting now undisturbed. He and Wren were fully alone; no ghosts were eavesdropping on their conversation. He rested his chin on her head, enjoying her feminine scent, her warmth. Wren saw him clearly—not as a disaster surgeon, nor as a hero, and definitely not as a man who had to sell his soul for his job. She just saw him, flawed and off-balance. Terror and freedom flooded his system, each vying for dominance.
Wren gently pulled away and bumped her shoulder against his. “We’ve got so much more to talk about, to walk through, but that’s enough for now, Dane. Let’s go home.”
Home. It was a word he was starting to associate with her.
And, strangely, the notion didn’t scare him.
ChapterFifteen
In the bedroom of Dane’s cottage—tomorrow was the big night!—Wren kicked off her shoes and fell backwards onto the bed, her arms spread out wide. Dane placed his knee next to her hip, his weight causing the mattress and her to dip. He pushed her hair off her face, his eyes tracking over her face. When he looked at her like that, she sensed that she was loved, that she mattered, that hesawher. “You looked tired, sweetheart,” he said, after dropping a swift kiss on her lips.
“I’m shattered,” she admitted. She’d hoped to spend the day with Dane, maybe talking some more about his burnout, and their future plans, but Luna had roped him into helping to set up the medical tent. And when he was done there, Wren had been busy helping with last-minute alterations to her dancers’ costumes. When they finally saw each other, it was time for them to join her kids for a pre-show celebratory pizza at Il Fantasma.
But as tired as she was, she felt hopeful. A little terrified. Alot in … maybe it was too soon to call it love but she felt deeply connected to him, like he might be someone she could be with beyond the fizz-bang of lust. That, maybe, somehow, they could make this work. They had to, because she couldn’t imagine being with anyone else.
“I really need to talk to Alex.”
When Dane’s eyes sharpened, she realized that, in her state of exhaustion, she’d spoken the words out loud. His arms stiffened, and his eyes drilled into hers. “And what do you plan on saying to him, Wren?” he asked, and she winced at the hint of irritation in his voice.
She curled her hand around his neck and grimaced at the tight muscles below her fingertips.Way to spoil the moment, Dunlop.
“That there is no chance, ever, of anything between him and me,” she quietly told him, hoping he’d hear the sincerity in her voice.
Dane pulled back and stood up. He placed his hands on his hips in a classical warrior pose, looking pissed off. “And you’ve only just realized that now?”
Shit. He was properly angry. Wren sat up, pulled up her knees, and linked her arms around them. How could she stop this from becoming a fight? “No, of course not, Dane. I knew the night we watched the scary movie on the lake, a week after he came to see me. I would never have made love to you if I had feelings for him.”
“Then why didn’t you tell him then?”
“Because I owed it to both of us, him and me, to be certain that what I felt was real. I kept telling myself that I should contact him, but then we got together, and all I’ve been able to think about is you. When I’m not thinking about you, I’m working with the kids and trying to keep Luna from driving everyone mad. I’m also very worried about Poppy getting married. I haven’t had the mental bandwidth to think about Alex!”
“Actually, I’ve been thinking about him quite a bit,” Dane countered, a hint of frustration leaking into his voice. He was always so calm, so to see him rattled was a little strange.
“For God’s sake, why?” she demanded. Shit, her voice was climbing, and she’d sounded a little shrill. If she didn’t want a fight, then she’d have to tone it down.
Dane rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. “Fuck. Let’s stop talking about this.”
He hadn’t answered her question. Was he jealous? Insecure? Or was he simply annoyed that she hadn’t cut ties? All three at once? She sighed. Dane found it difficult to express how he was feeling and tended to retreat when he felt emotionally overwhelmed. She reached out and touched his bare knee. There was so much they needed to discuss, and they could add Alex to the list. But not tonight.
