Page 37 of Anything for You (Veterans of Silver Ridge #7)
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Dorian
I woke with the scent of vanilla in my nose and the soft, supple reality of Dove’s sleeping form still nested against me. It was absolute heaven.
It was utter agony.
Extricating myself from the bed had been easier than expected. She hadn’t stirred, and I hadn’t wanted her to. Whatever wreckage of thoughts and feelings I needed to sort through was best done in the quiet and alone.
After letting Bear out, I welcomed the brooding miasma of emotion brewing in me.
All it’d taken was a few days of failing myself and I’d ended up with a nightmare that’d not only been miserable to experience but had also disturbed her.
How much longer before I was dragging her down in other ways?
How long before she wasn’t only losing sleep and peace because of me, but socialization?
Friendships? Sacrificing a life she’d fought for?
I hated that these were the thoughts lingering in my head as I begged the routine of moving around the kitchen to shake me from the sour mood.
I’d woken up with Dove in my arms and I didn’t deserve any part of her.
Shouldn’t I at least have had the dignity to savor that she’d been so close?
That she’d been so willing to offer me comfort?
There was also a decent chance that if she walked out into this kitchen in her pajamas, I would forget all about the reasons I’d just listed for caution, and I hated that, too.
The sizzle of butter in the cast iron pan drew my focus, and I let concentration on the task lull me away from the ragged sensations and memories from last night as I cracked eggs, sauteed onions, sprinkled cheese.
When I turned to the bar with two plates loaded with slices of frittata, a fruit salad, and toast, I startled to see her sitting at the island with a mug of steaming coffee in her hand.
Breath caught in my chest, I slid the plates onto the counter, drinking her in. My god, she was everything beautiful all at once. Soft, strong, gentle, a little sleepy and rumpled still but with hair slipping over her shoulders and down her back.
I loved her hair. I wanted to wrap it in my fists. I wanted her to pin me down and let it fall around us, curtaining off the world and caging us in. I wanted it spread across my pillow, across my chest…
“Morning.” Her blue eyes were vibrant in the morning light and lit with a gleam I couldn’t quite read.
“Morning. Sorry I didn’t hear you. Must’ve been in my own world,” I said, irritated with myself, but not surprised. I’d needed the solace of cooking, the muscle memory takeover of building a meal.
“I enjoyed watching. You were clearly very focused.” She lifted her coffee mug and took a sip, gaze never leaving mine.
I slid a plate toward her. “Hungry?”
She snickered. “Aren’t you tired of feeding me?”
“Never.”
She froze with the fork in hand, then reanimated, moving to spear a bit of frittata. “Really? Never’s a long time.” Her gaze slipped to mine, then back to the food.
She couldn’t understand how deeply I meant it, but I held her gaze for a beat before repeating, “Never.”
We both ate in silence for a few minutes, a comfortable pause to the conversation. Or maybe it wasn’t comfortable for her, but I was so used to the quiet I didn’t realize it?
Was that something else she’d give up for me, if we continued wherever this was heading? Would she give up comfortable silences or eventually, feeling like she could fill them if she wanted? Would she be compelled to grow quieter, too?
“Can we talk about it? Or would you rather not?”
I turned to her, searching for something like judgement or morbid curiosity. It was an uncharitable thought, and of course I didn’t find either. She simply waited, eyes clear and patient.
Did I want to talk about my nightmares? Never, save with Dr. Corrigan. Not with friends, ever. But I owed her that, at least. “Sure.”
A smile grew and faded in a heartbeat.
“Don’t get too excited.” Then her hand settled on my arm. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I don’t need anything. It won’t change anything. ”
And that was the first time she lied to me. “Of course it will. Now you’ve gotten a glimpse of what it can be like. A little taste of PTSD, and that was small.”
Her brow tented. “Do you still have other symptoms? Is your therapist concerned?”
“I’m—” I slumped and covered my face for a moment before exhaling. “I’m grumpy and tired. I’m always in a bad mood after something like this. So evaluating how I’m doing right now probably isn’t smart.”
She nodded. “Makes sense and I completely get that. Do you know what might’ve triggered the nightmare? Or does it happen randomly?”
Steeling myself for all the ways this could go wrong, I explained. “I got out of my usual routine last week. After you were better, I was catching up on farm stuff and did a bad job sleeping.”
Her mouth opened wide, her eyes round. “This is because of me? You took such good care of me, and this is what you got out of it?”
“No, no, Dove. I messed up. I worked too much, expected too much of myself the last few days. It’s happened before when I’ve managed my time poorly, and this is the reality of my life. It happens?—”
“Please don’t pretend you doing so much for me didn’t have something to do with it.”
I turned her chin so she’d look at me. “I’d have a nightmare every night for the rest of my life if it meant I got to take care of you, okay? This wasn’t your fault, and it is not an excuse for you to turn down help in the future.”
She reared back, almost as if struck. “Yeah? Well, you having a nightmare isn’t a reason to push me away.”
My mouth dropped open like I might respond, but no words came .
“Yeah, I can feel it. I feel you in your head, figuring out how to convince me this means you’re too broken. Well, bad news, Dorian. I’m a nurse. My business is healing. And I’m not here to fix you, but I’m sure as hell not scared of your broken pieces.”
“What happens when my broken pieces cause you pain? Hurt you? Make your life harder?” I asked, voice scraped raw with the agony of saying something like that out loud when I already felt naked.
She stood from the stool and turned to face me, cupping my face in her hands. “Someone once told me, ‘Every bit of you is beautiful and worthy of love.’”
I swallowed down gravel, heart aching.
Her eyes shone with tears, but she held them at bay as she spoke again.
“If there is one man in all this world I am certain won’t hurt me on purpose, it is you.
In the months that I’ve been living here, you’ve made my life better, easier, and fuller simply by existing next to me, not to mention all the practical things you’ve done to make it better. ”
“But—”
Her palm pressed against my lips, physically silencing me along with her, “Shhh.”
I blinked back, fairly shocked.
“I need you to hear me. I am not perfect, Dorian. I have piles of baggage. Heaps of it. And you may recall the physical embodiment of said baggage literally got you beat up not even a week ago.”
Fair, though she was still not fully understanding my concern.
“If you don’t want to be together, or if this has turned into more than you want, or you are realizing you’re not quite ready, all of those are valid concerns.
But if your primary worry right now is that your nightmare last night is somehow a harbinger of bad things, or that you having a history with mental health concerns is something that disqualifies you from being with me, you must hear me. ”
She paused, holding my gaze.
“I am not scared. I don’t know everything about what this means, but last night didn’t scare me away. You are worth staying for, and there is nothing I want more than to be here for you, if you want me to.”
She pressed a quick, hot kiss to my lips, then stepped back.
“I know this has been a lot so I’m going to give you some space to think.
I’ll be home all day, and when you’re ready, if you’re ready, please come find me so we can figure out what’s best. But I promise you it is not listening to all those what-ifs running around in your head, just like I’m going to shut the ones in my head down, too, okay? ”
I nodded. She let Bear in as she left, and I stayed sitting there at the bar, mind churning, long after she’d gone.