Married To A Marine

But he had survived. Only to come back to the States to get injured.

“I forgot to ask you last night, how does it feel to be hailed a hero for rescuing that little boy from that burning car?” She placed a plate of fluffy scrambled eggs in front of him.

“It stinks.”

“Hey, I’m not that bad a cook,” she protested. “So I overcooked the eggs a little.”

“I meant that stupid hero thing. It’s not true.”

“It’s not true that you rescued a toddler from the back seat of a burning car after you witnessed a car accident near Camp Lejeune?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Justice growled.

“Fine.” She shrugged and sat down across from him, digging into her own breakfast. “We can discuss something else. Like how much you love my gourmet cooking.”

“The eggs are good,” he grudgingly admitted.

“Oh, my! I do declare that such flowery praise will surely go to my head.” She dramatically placed the back of her hand across her forehead in the manner of a swooning Southern miss.

Instead of acknowledging her mocking comment, he said, “How long will it take you to review my medical records?”

“Not long. I’m a fast reader.”

“Good. Because I want to get started on this op as soon as possible.”

“Op?”

“This operation, this mission.”

“I see. So you’re considering your recovery as you would any mission assigned to you? That’s a good thing, I suppose.”

“A Marine never fails.”

“We both know that’s not true.”

“If you’re referring to my failed marriage to your sister—”

“I wasn’t,” she quickly interrupted him. “I meant that no one can guarantee a 100 percent success rate at anything.”

“No excuses, no exceptions.”

“Seems like a pretty tough philosophy to maintain.”

“The Marine Corps is supposed to be tough. It’s not a place for wimps.”

“Yeah, physical therapy is like that. Not a place for wimps. Oh, I almost forgot…” She returned to the counter to hand him the special concoction she’d mixed up in the blender. It did not escape his notice that she’d only poured one glass, not two. One glass, just for him. “Here, drink this.”

He grabbed her wrist. “What did you put in here?”

Startled, she tried to pull away.

“Answer me. What did you put in here?”

“Wheat germ, a banana, some strawberries, orange juice, a little vitamin B.”

“And what else?”

“Nothing else.”

“Do you swear on my mother’s life?”

His expression made her shiver. “Yes.”

He abruptly released her wrist.

“Why?” Her voice was husky with emotion. “What did you think I’d put in there?”

“My pain medication.”

She stared at him in amazement. “You thought I was trying to drug you against your will?”

“That thought did cross my mind, yes.”

“You clearly have a suspicious mind.”

“It’s kept me alive more times than I can count.”

“We’re not in a battle zone here.”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s an ingrained part of my training, thinking of scenarios and outcomes, thinking of everything as a weapon, even this fork.” He used the utensil to eat the last bite of scrambled eggs. “You call it being suspicious, I call it being alert, never letting down my defenses.”

She realized then how deep his distrust truly ran—not just of her but of everyone and everything around him.

“If I gave you my word that I won’t drug you, that it’s completely unethical for me to do so, would that make you feel better? If I swore on your mother’s life, as you put it, would that make you feel better?”

“The only thing that will make me feel better is regaining complete mobility of my arm and rejoining my squadron. Anything less than that is unacceptable.”

Kelly had worked with patients before who’d been unable to accept their injuries and the limitations that had subsequently been placed on them. Inevitably it made their recoveries slower. But there was no speeding up the acceptance process. Each individual had to get there at their own rate, in their own time, in their own way. She had a feeling that Justice’s way would be the hard way. He wasn’t a man to take the easy route.

She didn’t even realize that she was absently rubbing her wrist until he spoke.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

“I’m sorry you didn’t trust me,” she replied. “That’s bound to make this process more difficult.”

“I told you, I don’t trust anyone.”

“Not even your own family?”

“Of course I trust them.”

“Then trust that your mother knew what she was doing when she sent me to you.”

“I trust her, not her judgment about everything.”

“Oh, so you think I conned your mother into sending me here?” Kelly asked mockingly. “Sure, I can understand that. After all, she’s such a gullible lady. Very naive. Easy to fool. Nothing to pull the wool over her eyes. An easy mark. A real bubblehead.”

“Hey, nobody calls my mom a bubblehead,” Justice growled.

“My point exactly. She’s one of the sharpest women I’ve ever met.”

“Okay, okay, so my mother is not easily fooled. Point taken.”

“I hope so. I’d rather not have this conversation every time I offer you a drink. Think of all the energy you’re expending on that distrust.”

“It’s not wasted energy.”

“Yes, it is. That mind-set may be useful during one of your covert special ops, as you called them, but you don’t need that kind of defense mechanism in this situation. You’re safe here.”

Didn’t she understand that he wasn’t safe anywhere? He’d let down his guard when he’d rushed in to save that toddler, and look where it had gotten him. If he’d been more alert, he might have fallen differently. He’d been trained to drop and roll and had avoided injury so many times in the past. It was one of the reasons he’d gotten his nickname.

No, he definitely was not safe, not from the nightmares about the car bursting into flames, not about the doubts that he refused to even acknowledge.

He had no room in his life for such things.

Kelly claimed she could help him, fine. Here was her chance to prove it. He’d always been a man who believed more in actions than in words.

That didn’t mean he trusted Kelly, or her motives. Bottom line was that she was still his ex-wife’s sister and his divorce had not exactly been an amicable one. Kelly might still have some sort of hidden agenda for coming here. Which meant he’d have one, too.

Point, counterpoint, strike, counterstrike. It’s what he did, how he thought. Trust was not a requirement for getting the use of his arm back.

“You’d better start reviewing my medical report so we can get this op under way.” He impatiently waited while she read through the file. “Well? What’s the plan? You do have a plan, right?”

“Give me a minute here.”

“Because planning plays as important a role in the preparation of battle as in the conduct of battle.”

“Which is all very well and good but we’re not talking about a battle here.”

“Yes, we are. I’m not stupid enough to think otherwise. It’s going to be a battle to get my strength back.”

“There’s no guarantee your arm will recover fully, but you have a much better chance of increasing your range of mobility with physical therapy and time.”

“I don’t have much time and I’m not interested in merely increasing my range of mobility. I want my arm back the way it was before.”

“I can’t guarantee that will happen, Justice,” she said quietly.

“No excuses, no exceptions.”

“And no false promises of a miracle cure. We can just take this one step at a time and see how things progress. Deal?”

She held out her hand.

He reluctantly took it in his. His fingers were warm against her skin as he gingerly wrapped them around her hand. Even something as simple as a handshake proved difficult. Gritting his teeth, he silently railed against his own weakness.

“Don’t push yourself to do too much too soon, that will do more damage than good,” she warned him.

“Have you always been this bossy?”

“No, I think I’ve become bossier with age and now I’m getting pretty darn good at it. Which is a good thing considering that you’re used to drill instructors screaming orders at you. But don’t worry, I’ll try not to be too hard on you. No marching orders, none of that ‘right face’ or ‘forward march’ stuff.”

“Stuff?”

“Not the appropriate military terminology? Sorry about that. Medical terminology is more my thing. For example, antibodies. Everyone knows that antibodies are against everyone. And that an enema is not a friend. Hey, was that a smile I saw there, soldier?”

“I’m a Marine, not a soldier.”

“Sorry, I’ll repeat the question. Was that a smile I saw there, Mr. Big Bad Marine?”

“It was gas.”

“Listen, buddy, any more jabs at my cooking and you’ll be pulling kitchen duty. And don’t even think about calling me a feisty little thing again.”

“I wasn’t going to.”

“Good.”

“I’m still waiting to hear your plan.”

“Okay, then. Here it is. We start out nice and easy…” Kelly began when he immediately interrupted her.

“I don’t like that plan.”

She gave a long-suffering sigh. “Maybe this should be the part where I point out that I’m the one with the training and you’re the one who is supposed to be heeding my advice.”

“I don’t do nice and easy,” Justice informed her.

She was not impressed. “Then it’s about time you learned. Just pretend you’re back in boot camp.”

Now he looked insulted. “There’s nothing nice or easy about boot camp. It’s twelve weeks of grueling and exhausting work meant to separate the cream of the crop from the rest.”

“You didn’t let me finish. As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, just pretend you’re back in boot camp, only this time instead of your goal being to become a Marine, your goal is to increase your mobility. You’re very lucky that overall you’re in such good physical shape.”

“Lucky?”

She noted the bitterness in his voice. “Yes, lucky. I’ve dealt with patients who have terminal illnesses, patients who have been paralyzed by car accidents. Compared to them, you’re sitting pretty.”

“You have no idea what you’re dealing with here.” His curt words were like bullets. “I’m a member of the Marine Corps’ most elite force, which means I have to be at the top of my game. I have to pass stringent physical exams to return to my squad. These are men who can drop and do a few hundred one-handed push-ups without even breaking a sweat. My injury may seem measly to you…”

“It’s not measly, Justice. I’m sorry if I gave you that impression. The bruising and lacerations on your legs will heal with time. And your concussion was slight, although you should have rested and not been traveling out here. But the damage to your shoulder is very serious indeed. I wasn’t trying to belittle your injury or the effect it’s had on your life. I’m just saying that in the whole spectrum of things, it could have been much worse. You could have been paralyzed or killed when that car exploded.”

Justice didn’t tell her how he felt, that he might as well have been killed if his future as a member of Force Recon was gone. She wouldn’t understand, she couldn’t know how much who he was involved what he did. The definition of invincible was “incapable of being overcome or defeated.” That was no longer true. Which left Justice feeling incapable, period.

“I realize that a brush with death makes most people question things in their lives…” Kelly began when he interrupted her again.

“Marines aren’t most people. And this certainly wasn’t the first time I’ve had a brush with death.”

His words chilled her. She’d known his work as a Marine meant he was exposed to danger, but she’d somehow never considered the fact that he might actually die serving his country.

She had to take a sip of freshly brewed coffee before going on. She steadied her trembling fingers by wrapping them around her coffee mug. “Why do you do it? Why do you put your life at risk?”

“Because my country needs me. It’s what I do and what I’m good at doing.”

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