The Space Between Us (Treasure Harbor Book 2) Read online

  She must have caught him staring at her feet. “My sandals are in the car. I enjoy the sand between my toes too much to wear them on the beach.”

  “My kind of girl.”

  Holding up a basket, she ducked her head for a second, but it didn’t hide the hint of a blush. “Everything we need is in here.”

  He appraised the old-fashioned picnic basket. “Do you have a blanket to sit on?”

  “Even better.” She flipped open one side of the lid and pulled out a red and white gingham vinyl tablecloth. “It will feel more like a picnic and the sand will come right off.”

  “Great idea.” Really, he didn’t care what they sat on, as long as he spent time with her.

  Jinx showed up and rubbed against Avery’s leg. She set the basket down and lifted the cat, cuddling him to her. “I don’t have anything for you to eat, but I’ll give you some love.”

  When she snuggled her nose into the cat’s gray fur, she claimed another piece of Brody’s heart. This was the Avery he fell for. Underneath her often cool exterior toward him, existed a tender-hearted woman who’d take time from her day to coo to a stray cat.

  Although the cat wasn’t a stray anymore. Like him. They’d both been lost, but found a home in Treasure Harbor.

  While Avery continued talking to Jinx—one would think he was a baby, not a feline—Brody set out his dish of food and water then picked up the basket. “Ready to go?”

  She set Jinx by his food. “Yes.”

  They walked down the steps and to the sand. He led her to one of his favorite spots—a narrow strip of beach with dunes behind them and the ocean ahead. The light from a lamppost at the condo complex nearby barely reached where they’d stopped, but provided a soft complement to the glow of the moon and allowed them to see each other.

  With the meal unpacked, they say down. Avery had prepared two plates already, which made distributing the food easy. He handed one to her and put the other in front of himself, gave her the bottle of lemonade, kept the root beer for him. It warmed his heart that she’d remembered a small detail like what he drank.

  He took a bite of his sandwich, savoring the taste. “What is this? It’s fantastic.”

  “My version of something I tried at a bistro when visiting Lara in Philadelphia a few years ago. I forgot what it’s called, but it has turkey, Colby-Jack cheese, mayo, honey and Dijon mustard on a baguette.”

  “I’m a ‘slap the meat on the bread and call it a day’ kind of guy. Obviously, I’ve been missing out.” He bit off another chunk of the sandwich.

  “I’m glad you like it.”

  The conversation remained on light topics as they ate. He finished his meal, including the chocolates he recognized from Swashbucklin’ Sweets.

  Once he saw she had finished also, he asked, “Would you like to take a walk?”

  A promising smile appeared. “Yes.”

  He stood and held her hand to assist her up. “We can pack this up when we’re back. No one will bother it.”

  They walked in the opposite direction of his apartment. Avery didn’t let go of his hand, which made him indescribably happy for the progress between them.

  He wanted to know more about her, take their discussions to a deeper level, and know the Avery below the surface. “What was your childhood like?”

  “Chaotic.” She sighed, and he almost regretted asking and resurrecting bad memories for her. “I told you before how my parents were obsessed with the treasure. Lara and I spent most of our childhood being watched by our grandparents while Mom and Dad searched for the gold and valuables.”

  “Are your grandparents here?”

  “Yes, and we always had fun with them, but it wasn’t the same as having Mom and Dad.” She turned to face him. “Compared to many people, I had a great childhood and shouldn’t complain. I know I’m fortunate in many ways, but my parents missed out on so much of my life and Lara’s because of their obsession.”

  He could understand that, only his dad’s obsession was other woman, and his mom’s was drugs. “Children need parents active in their lives.”

  “It’s better now. They drained all their financial resources several years ago and things came to a head.” Sadness frayed Avery’s voice. “They almost divorced over it but were able to work through it. I’m glad they didn’t separate and finally broke their fixation with the treasure, but I wish it hadn’t gotten to that point.”

  As the conversation progressed, he gained understanding of her and why she despised the treasure so much. He probably would also if he’d gone through all she had. “Is that why you don’t even sell books about the treasure in the store?”

  She flinched. “I know people talk and think that’s too extreme. Maybe they’re right, but I don’t want any part in causing someone to go down the same path as my parents.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with that.” He squeezed her hand. “I’m sure, especially now, such books would turn a good profit for you, and I think it’s honorable that you stand by your convictions.”

  “Not everyone sees it that way. I appreciate your view.” She came closer to him so that their shoulders brushed. “What about you? I know very little about your life before Treasure Harbor.”

  He sucked in a deep breath. He didn’t want to delve into his past, but it was only fair since she shared hers.

  “Where’s your family? You’ve never mentioned them.”

  “My mom’s in jail for drugs, has been since I was sixteen. I heard she got out for a few months during one of my deployments, but she’s back in now.” Strange, how he could say it so casually now. “Dad walked out when I was ten, and I haven’t seen him since.”

  “Do you have any contact with him?”

  “No.” He ran his teeth over his bottom lips. “He called me once when I was twelve, but other than that, I’ve never heard from. He could be dead for all I know.”

  Avery stopped in her tracks. “You don’t sound bothered by that.”

  “It’s called survival mode. My parents made their choices, and they were horrible ones, but I can’t let that keep me down.” He released her hand to run his fingers through his hair. “The best way not to dwell on it is to distance myself emotionally.”

  “That’s so sad.”

  He hated pity. “I’ve done okay.”

  “Is that why you joined the Marines?”

  “To escape my life? No.” He began walking again. “I learned a long time ago that distance won’t evade emotional scars.”

  “Why join then?” The confused look in her eyes said she truly didn’t understand.

  “Initially, I only joined because they’d pay for me to go to college.”

  “But you were in for eight years, right?”

  “Yes. The time came to reenlist, and the bonus was too good to resist.” His lips vibrated with a dry laugh. “Of course, I was pretty young at that point and had no concept of saving money. I had just come home from a deployment, and between that money saved and my bonus, I had more money than I’d seen in my lifetime. I bought my truck and blew through most of it the following year until I took a financial seminar on base.”

  “You willingly went to one?” Her eyes showed disbelief.

  “I was given no choice. I bounced a check at the clothing store on base so attending the workshop was my punishment.”

  “You didn’t!”

  “Sad but true.” He cast her a wink. “There, now you have more cause to think me irresponsible.”

  “I don’t think that anymore.” Her face contorted, and she touched his arm, right in the place of his tattoo. “Do you still plan to attend college?”

  “Absolutely. I’ve already registered for the fall semester at Carolina Harbor College.” He smiled proudly. He’d worked hard to gain admission there, and he would work hard for his degree.

  “That’s fantastic. Congratulations.” Avery threw her arms around him for a quick embrace.

  The temptation to kiss her was strong, but he didn’t sense the time was right.

  “Have you decided on a major?”

  “Psychology.”

  “That surprises me.” Avery watched him carefully. “What do you plan to do?”

  “Become a counselor for veterans suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder.” He turned away, rubbing the circle tattoos. The pain was too fresh, even a year later. He didn’t want Avery to see the vulnerability that still gripped him.

  A gentle hand grasped his shoulder. “Whatever happened, it will be okay.”

  “No.” He turned around slowly, grief burning his eyes. “A veteran killing himself because of PTSD will never be okay.”

  “I’m sorry.” She enveloped him, held him and comforted him.

  How long had it been since anyone had offered him support through a hug, a small gesture that meant everything? It was the human contact he’d craved, but had been too prideful to accept. He’d blocked himself off, afraid to feel anything.

  He inhaled deeply, breathing in the saltiness of the ocean and the tropical scent of Avery’s perfume. With each breath, he drew in hope and exhaled the pain.

  After several minutes, he broke the embrace.

  Avery retained hold of his hand. “If you want to talk about it, I’m a good listener.”

  “It’s not pretty,” he warned.

  “I can handle it.”

  Walking in the direction of their picnic spot, he closed his eyes and prayed for the strength to tell the story. He’d have to learn to share it one day if he wanted to help others. He lifted his sleeve. “Each of these dots is a fallen comrade. My first deployment, we all made it home.” He pointed to the first circle. “On the second, Joey Tripp was killed by enemy fire.” Moving his finger, he touched the second and third. “Third deployment, Matt Hicks and Daniel Clearwater were killed by an I.E.D. while on a mission.”

  He dared a look at Avery. Tears puddled in her eyes.

  “I can stop,” he offered. He wouldn’t hold it against her.

  “No. Finish.”

  “My fourth and final deployment was the worst. Bryan Dermot died two weeks after arriving in theatre, from causes never discovered. Three months later, we were rescuing Afghan children from a bombed school.” He closed his eyes, and promptly reopened them, unable to handle the images that surfaced. “Adam Smith, Garret Matheson, and Ben Brooks were trapped in the building when a portion collapsed. They didn’t make it out before another bomb struck.”

  “The kids?” Her words were barely audible, and the tears fell freely.

  He shook his head. “It was bad, the worst thing I’ve ever seen. We still had four months left of that deployment, and I thought it would never end.”

  She traced the final circle. “Who is he?”

  “Patrick McDonald.” He ran his tongue over his mouth, wetting his dry lips. “An end of a deployment doesn’t bring the mental end. You see things a person has no right seeing, of people experiencing things they should never have to go through. The fourth deployment proved too much for Patrick.”

  A shudder coursed through him, and his shoulders trembled. He spotted a wooden bench at the beach’s entrance and sat on it.

  Avery lowered herself beside him, put an arm around his shoulders.

  “He had a wife and two kids, everything to live for, but the memories haunted him. He needed help, but wouldn’t seek it, afraid he’d appear weak and lose the promotion he was up for.” Anger materialized. Such a senseless loss of life. “His wife came home from the grocery store to find him dead, a single gunshot to the head. The only good thing to be said, was that his children were in school at the time, so they didn’t have to witness the scene.”

  “So sad.” Avery wiped at her cheeks. “How could someone do that?”

  He didn’t hear any judgment in her voice, only a desire to understand.

  “No one can fully understand unless they’ve experienced it. PTSD affects each person in different ways, but it’s very real and needs treatment. Too many of our armed forces commit suicide every day and for each of those, there are a hundred more suffering.” He swallowed the grief rising in his throat. “I’m one of them, but I am lucky. There are days I still struggle, but I sought help and have come through the worst it. I have God, and friends here to lean on, but I can’t sit by and do nothing while so many suffer. It’s what drove my decision to study psychology and expand my studies to become a counselor.”

  Avery stared at him through her tears. She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I misjudged you entirely. You’re a good man, Brody Chance. The best I’ve ever met.”

  Chapter Seven

  The sun shone brighter on Sunday morning. Avery stayed in bed for a few minutes before starting her day. She and Brody had sat on the beach talking until well after midnight. She was falling for him, and quickly so.

  Her heart broke for him and all that he’d been through, yet rejoiced for the person he’d become through it all. She couldn’t believe how wrong she’d been about him. Or had she subconsciously known all along and tried to trick herself? Either way, her previous behavior shamed her, especially in light of what he’d told her last night.

  He’d accepted her apology without question and hadn’t brought it up again. They were on a new path, one which accepted the other as is.

  She couldn’t wait to see him this morning.

  “Oh no. What time is it?” She shot up in bed, scrambling for her phone. Ten after nine. Grrr. She’d overslept and had ten minutes to shower and dress. Rushing out of bed, she tripped over her sheet, which had slid to the floor overnight. Her ankle twisted and bent, and she fell to the floor.

  “You’ve got to be kidding.” She tried to stand, but the pain made it impossible.

  What could she do? Using her arms, she dragged herself a foot until she could reach her phone on the nightstand. She didn’t want Brody to see her like this, but he’d be here before she could call Lara or her parents.

  She dialed his number.

  “Good morning.” His low voice made her smile despite the hurt in her ankle.

  “You too.” She winced against the pain. “Are you nearby?”

  “Just pulled into your driveway. Are you okay? You sound like you’re in pain.”

  “I am.” She shifted the best she could and propped herself against the bed. “I think I sprained my ankle.”

  “Are you in the house?” Urgency took over his tone. “Can you move?”

  “I’m in the bedroom, and I can’t stand.” Deep breaths didn’t alleviate the pain.

  “I’ll be right in. Is the door unlocked?”

  “No, but the light by the door had a hidden compartment on the side. There’s one in there.” The sound of metal against metal from his side grated on her and sent shooting pains through her ankle.

  “Got it.”

  “Good. My bedroom is the last door on the left.”

  She glanced at her outfit, relieved she was modest. Last night she’d slept in a pair of lightweight cotton pajama bottoms with images of books printed on them—they’d been a Christmas gift from an aunt last year—and an old t-shirt. She wouldn’t win any fashion awards, but she was covered and comfortable with the exception of her throbbing ankle.

  The door opened, and she heard footsteps rush in.

  “In here,” she called out for Brody’s benefit in case he hadn’t heard which room.

  Feelings of security and safety covered her when she saw him in the doorway.

  He looked at her pajamas and raised a brow. “How long before you called me?”

  “Right after I fell.”

  An amused smile crossed his face “Running a little late?”

  “Just a little.” It took all her strength to return a smile.

  A concerned frown replaced his grin as he knelt down beside her. He gingerly lifted her swelling ankle and examined the forming bruises. “You’re probably right about a sprain, but you should have it examined, anyway. There could be a fracture.”

  She scowled. “I don’t need to go to a doctor.”

  “Either I take you, or I call Lara and exaggerate the injury so that she rushes over immediately and the results are still the same.” He glanced out her door. “Do you have an ice pack in the freezer?”

  “Yes. They’re in the door compartments.”

  “Let’s get you off the floor first.” He slipped an arm under hers. “Don’t put any weight on your ankle. I’m going to lift you up and carry you to the sofa.”

  She didn’t protest. One—she wasn’t in any condition to. Two, she rather liked having a knight in shining armor. Granted, she would have preferred not to have hurt herself, but at least there was a silver lining.

  Brody demonstrated no sign of strain as he carried her into the living room. He set her down gently on the sofa and propped her bad foot on a pile of two pillows. “I’ll be right back.”

  The throbbing intensified. She gritted her teeth and braced against the pain.

  He returned with an ice pack wrapped in a paper towel and held it to her ankle. “Do you have any ibuprofen?”

  Taking a deep breath, she focused on the coldness against her skin. “In my hallway bathroom, in the medicine cabinet.”

  “Do you want some?”

  She nodded. When he came back with two pills and a cup of water, she took the medicine. “Can we wait until this kicks in a little before leaving?”

  “We can do that.” His eyes empathized with her pain, and he pressed the ice pack on various spots of her ankle. “Is there anything else I can do?”

  “No, but I appreciate all you have done.” A raspy laugh came out. “This is what I get for running late.”

  “How’d it happen?”

  “I tripped over my sheet.” She hurt too bad to be embarrassed by her clumsiness.

  “It happens.” Brody shrugged as though spraining her ankle because of a bed sheet was a common occurrence.

  “Could you do me a favor?” She waited for his nod before continuing. “My phone is still lying on my floor. Would you mind getting it for me please? Lara will worry when she doesn’t see me in church.”