Page 53 of Bad For Me (Rock Canyon, Idaho 5)

She looked away from his penetrating eyes. “And that’s why you grabbed me like I was attacking you?”

“No, I . . . ” Everett cupped his head in his hand and took a deep breath before he spoke again. “I sometimes forget where I am, especially when I first wake up. All I knew subconsciously was that someone was hovering over me . . . and I reacted. But I would never hurt you, not in my right mind.”

He was talking about his PTSD, but she was hung up on his words. In his right mind.

“Look, I appreciate the offer and everything, but I just want to go home. Sleep in my own bed, and besides, I have to feed Ratchet in the morning.”

“I can drive you home before work—”

“I have to be there at four thirty in the morning!”

“I’ll set the alarm for three. Is that enough time? And you can take care of him then. As for tonight, I’ll take the couch, and you can take my bed.” His persistence was wearing her down. She didn’t want to keep arguing with him, and she was hurting.

Before she could argue more, he had scooped her up again and was walking to the back of the house. When he flipped on the light, she found herself in a simple bedroom with a bed and dresser; no photos or pictures on the wall.

“How long have you lived here?”

“I bought the house a little over five years ago.” He lay her down on the bed before gently tucking a few pillows under her ankle.

“Your decorating style is almost too simplistic.” Her tone was angry and insulting, and she hated that she felt helpless. She was so confused; it was one thing to hear that he had PTSD, but to experience it, even briefly, had been frightening. She wanted to be home, where she could overanalyze and convince herself that she was better off away from him, instead of lying in his bed, with him caring for her and looking like a lost puppy.

“I know. I’ve been meaning to hire a decorator. Know anyone good?” Everett gave her a wink before going to the closet. How dare he try to be charming when she was busy being angry with him?

And scared.

Initially, yes, she’d been spooked by his reaction, but he’d only grabbed her. If she’d been startled awake from a deep sleep, how would she have behaved? Probably have come up swinging, if she had to guess. Could she really blame him for scaring her? She could call Caroline to come get her if she needed, but despite her initial fear, she wanted to know more about his PTSD. Was it severe? Did he act so secure and adjusted to make up for his inability to control his fears when he was most vulnerable? Had he ever hurt anyone?

He pulled out a blanket and spread it over her. “I’m going to get you some Tylenol and an ice pack. I’ll be right back.”

He was being so careful, so gentle with her; it was as if she was made of porcelain. Callie wiped at her suddenly wet eyes as he left the room.

Everett came back with a glass of water and a blue ice pack. He set the water next to the bed and sat down. “Okay, I’m going to put this on your ankle, and I want you to take these.” He held up a small packet of pills. “It’s just Tylenol, but it should help a little.”

“Thanks.” She checked the package to make sure it was just Tylenol, and not Tylenol PM or anything with codeine. When she’d started the program, her sponsor had given her a list of safe pain relievers to use, and most of the over-the-counter ones were okay. Callie broke open the package and popped the white pills into her mouth before taking a swig of water to wash them down.

“So does that happen a lot?”

“No, not anymore.” He adjusted the cold pack on her ankle and covered her foot with the blanket.

“Have you ever hurt anyone?” Please say no. She didn’t think she could get over it if he said yes.

“I clocked an orderly once who’d come to get me for surgery. I’d been deep in a night terror, and when he tried to wake me, I came out of it swinging. Of course, just the pain of moving had been intense enough to wake me up. I had nightmares almost every night, and sometimes I would freak out and have no idea where I was. I started seeing a shrink after my wife left, and she taught me some exercises to help bring me back to reality, so to speak,” he said. “And gave me a prescription for anxiety pills. Which I hardly ever need anymore.”

As if sensing her trepidation about his revelation, he added, “I am not that same guy anymore, Callie. I worked through it. I hope you’ll believe me. I don’t know what happened in your past, but I get the feeling someone hurt you. I won’t.”

“You scared the crap out of me.” She couldn’t believe she said the words out loud, but they were true. He had scared her, but it hadn’t really hurt. And to be fair, he’d been badly burned and hopped up on pain meds when he’d hit the orderly. It was a long time ago.

His hand drifted up to rest on her shin, and his face was so twisted with regret that Callie just wanted to cover his hand with hers. “I really am sorry.”

His pain hurt her, and her stomach tied in knots. He was this amazing man, and he wanted her. He had pushed aside her recovering alcoholism to be with her and give her a chance. Could she do the same? Put her worry on the back burner and have a little faith in him? A little trust?

Surprising herself, she said, “It’s okay.”

His face lit with relief, and he even gave her a small smile. “Some date, huh?”

“Definitely not what I was expecting.”

A wet nose pushed into her hand, and she wondered how she hadn’t noticed Ratchet following them into the room.

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