Grissom (In the Company of Snipers #26)

Chapter Ten

“I’m so damned sorry,” Grissom whispered into the top of Tuesday’s head, breathing in the lovely fragrance of roses wafting up the warm space between them.

“You squishin’ me,” Luke grumbled sleepily, shoving away from Tuesday. But then he must’ve opened his eyes, as quickly as he burrowed back into her and said, “Tuesday’s cryin’, Daddy. Why’s she sad?” Damned if the tenderhearted little guy didn’t start bawling along with her.

Great. Just great. Grissom had to get ahead of the mess he’d created before Tanner started crying, too.

“Because I hurt her feelings,” Grissom admitted, shifting Luke higher up on his shoulder to make more room for Tuesday. She’d wormed her palms between him and her, and those hands were right then pushing him away. Grissom knew he’d never get another chance to, at least, be her friend if he let her go now.

“No, you didn’t, Mr. McCoy,” she protested, her voice tight and her hands firm on his chest. Which he wished were there because of something more than the sadness radiating off her. “I’m okay, Luke. I just… got something in my eye, and it’s time I went h-home.”

He was Mr. McCoy again. Damn it. What would’ve been so wrong with her coming on a simple horseback ride with him and his boys? Why’d he panic? It’s not like that would’ve meant they were on their way to the altar or anything. Why had he screwed up a simple outing by thinking of himself instead of his boys? Or her? Grissom didn’t fully understand why he’d freaked, but he needed to. Because, right then and there, with her in one arm and Luke in the other, he knew damned well that letting Tuesday go would be the biggest mistake of his life. He’d never be whole again, and for whatever reason, that was how he felt with her up close and personal like she currently was. Whole for the first time in his life. Not broken. Not even missing any pieces.

“What’d you do to her, Dad?” Tanner snapped. “Now she doesn’t want to go to breakfast with us, and I’m hungry, and I…”

His bottom lip quivered and Grissom wanted to kick his own ass. These boys loved Tuesday. She’d been their sole refuge during the worst time in their lives, and they adored her. What would they have done without her? They’d been alone with two monsters until Tuesday showed up. He should’ve paid more attention, to that and to them and—

“And I love her more than you!” Tanner yelled, his eyes watering. “She’s never been mean to me. Not once!”

“Tanner,” Tuesday said gently, while she did precisely what Grissom was worried she’d do, shifted sideways and out of his grip. “Don’t say that, honey. Your dad’s not being mean to you. Look at him, sweetheart. He adores you and your brother, and he’d be lost without you guys.”

Without glancing at his dad, Tanner tipped out of his saddle and fell into Tuesday’s arms. “I don’t wanna look at him. I’m mad at him,” he cried, his arms a noose around her neck. “I don’t want you to go. You just got here. Please, don’t leave me again.”

Shit. Tanner needed Tuesday more than he needed his dad? Didn’t that make Grissom feel like a douchebag? Oh, yeah…

It was going to hurt like a mother, but he might as well tear the Band-Aid off and man up. “Tanner, you’re right. I hate to admit it, but” —he finally caught Tuesday’s eye— “I haven’t been very polite today.” And I’m not really sure why. Am I scared? Hell yeah, I’m scared. Not of her but… Shit. I’m just worried, that’s all. That’s what I do best. I worry. And now I’m talking to myself…

Tanner wiped his teary face and then smeared his wet fingers on his pant leg. “Is it PTSD, Dad? Did you have a panic attack like I do sometimes?” he asked between hiccups. “Is that why you thought you had to be mean?” Then to Tuesday, he said, “I get mean with Luke sometimes when I git attacks. I think I know what Dad’s feeling.”

Grissom’s cheeks puffed with a heartfelt sigh. Weren’t they a pair, him with his mixed-up memories, and poor Tanner with his mommy-induced panic attacks? Obviously, there were no secrets in the McCoy household, not since family counseling began. Not since Grissom decided the best way forward for him and his boys was to be totally honest with them. Not with the horrors or atrocities of war, they didn’t need that crap in their little heads. But by admitting how worried he was sometimes, and that, yes, it was okay for guys to cry, and sometimes, even tough Army guys needed hugs. It was urgently important to Grissom that his sons understood why he woke up yelling in the middle of the night sometimes, and that when he did, it wasn’t because they’d done anything wrong. Nothing that had happened in Costa Rica was their fault. If anyone was to blame, he was. And yes, Ms. Ashlee Peyton, their family counselor, would surely argue with him over that. Grissom also knew he’d spend the rest of his life making it up to his boys for staying married to their mother as long as he had.

“ Say you’re sorry, Daddy,” the baby tyrant in the family demanded, from high on Grissom’s shoulder.

Setting Luke’s feet on the ground, Grissom winked at his youngest, then did as he was told and took a step toward Tuesday and Tanner. “I made a mistake,” he admitted. “I… I did panic, that’s true, and I made you feel bad.” He drew in a belly full of air and continued. “My boys have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and so do I. There are things I may never remember, and some shit I’ll never forget. I have triggers, and living with me is tough on Tanner and Luke. Nothing about me is easy, but I’m doing everything I can for them, and for me, too. And today…” He drew in a deep breath. “I don’t really know you, and, shit, I’m not good with women.”

“Ask me anything,” Tuesday said quietly. “I’ve been in the press enough. I have no secrets.”

He nodded at her, like the big dumb ox he was. “Yeah, but the press never gets anything right.”

“And they invent stories. After all, lies sell more newspapers, not truth.”

She had him there. Grissom ran a hand over his scruffy chin, not sure what to do or say next.

“I love you, Dad,” Tanner said tearfully, “and I’m sorry I said I didn’t.”

Thank heaven for his sons. Grissom walked over to Tuesday and ruffled his fingers through his son’s dark hair. “I know you love me, and it’s okay to get mad. We’ve talked about that. It’s better to vent instead of holding everything in until we explode, huh? Just remember that what we say when we’re angry can be hurtful, too.”

“I know, Dad. Like what Mom used to… to say to me,” Tanner’s voice cracked.

The poor kid stretched both arms out for his dad, and Grissom pulled him carefully away from Tuesday. He didn’t want to make her feel bad, but the moment Tanner was in his arms again, a sigh of contentment groaned out of him. “Your mom was sick, kiddo. Sick and mean and bitter, and nothing she did was ever your fault. Stick with me. We might say things we don’t mean sometimes, but we’re going to get through this, I promise. I’ve got your six, and I know you’ve got mine, buddy. We’re going to be okay.”

Tanner wiped his face again, then lifted his eyes back to Tuesday. Grissom had to give her credit for not leaving. The McCoy family was a mess. They might look like dapper cowboys on the outside, especially dressed like they were today. But inside, he and his boys were dealing with a shit-ton of crap and would be for months, maybe years. Yet there she stood waiting and, if the expression on her face was an indication, she wasn’t going anywhere.

“I have triggers too, Tuesday, but Dad doesn’t never get mad when I… when I…” Poor Tanner paled at what he’d nearly admitted.

Grissom’s gaze narrowed down on Tuesday. Surely, she already knew Tanner wet the bed. He was getting better, but night terrors still ravaged his self-esteem and accidents still happened.

Damned if she didn’t step in close enough to cup Tanner’s quivering jaw. “We all have secrets, sweetheart,” she said softly, “and I’ll keep yours forever. They’ll always be locked up safe in my heart, and I wouldn’t trade a second of our time together for anything. Deal?”

Just that fast, all that pent-up tension melted out of Tanner. “Thank you,” he whispered. “You always been so nice to me and Luke, and if you hafta go now, I’ll be sad, but I’ll never, ever forget you.”

“She’s not going anywhere,” Grissom declared, facing the woman his boys loved. “The McCoy family is a work in progress. We’re men, not girls. We argue and fight, but I hope you’ll join us for breakfast. Let me make it up to you?”

“Dad’s right. We’re getting better every day,” Tanner said fiercely. “And before long, we’re gonna be better than we ever, ever were.”

“Yeah, and we’re really hungry,” Luke reminded everyone from where he stood at Tuesday’s knee, looking up at her. Damned if his grubby little hand wasn’t already tucked inside hers.

Drawing in a much calmer breath, Grissom looked into her clear green eyes and said, “I messed up. I’m sorry. Can you forgive me for being a… a guy?”

Two little faces pivoted from Grissom back to Tuesday. “There’s nothing to forgive, Mr. McCoy,” she said as she took a step toward Grissom with Luke following. “You were concerned for your boys. I respect that.”

“Please call me Grissom,” he asked her again.

She dipped her head. “Okay. Grissom.”

He couldn’t understand why his name sounded different on her lips than when others said it, but it did. “Breakfast?” he asked, encouraged by how easily she was forgiving him. “Please say yes, or I’m going to have a fight on my hands.” He gave her his best puppy dog eyes and hoped he looked a little adorable.

There was nothing, absolutely no hint of Pam’s ugly nature in Tuesday. Why he’d thrown up those chicken shit walls between her and his sons, Grissom didn’t know. Except deep down he did. Tuesday was too good to be true. She was everything his mother and Pamela had never been. She was kind and caring. She’d rescued his boys when she could’ve looked the other way and left poor Tanner in Estes’ filthy hands. But she hadn’t. She’d gone toe-to-toe with that pig, and then she’d faced Pam and succeeded in rescuing Tanner and Luke. She’d taken them in and treated them like they were hers. She’d loved them, and—

She loved them still.

Grissom’s eyes finally opened. He saw Tuesday Smart, truly saw her for who she was and how much she genuinely loved his boys. Damned if the still small voice in his heart didn’t whisper, ‘ Duh . ’ Tuesday’s love showed in the tenderly possessive way she held Luke’s grubby hand. It beamed out of her eyes at Tanner like bright, golden rays of encouragement. She shared his worst secret, yet there he was, in love with the woman who was not his mother. Who would never be anything like Pam.

The enormity of what he was finally looking st struck Grissom like a jagged bolt of lightning out of the clear blue sky. He was treading new territory. If this went wrong, his sons would become collateral damage again. They wer the primary reason behind him establishing those boundaries. Only… his boys were the ones showing him the way. They’d both run headlong through those stupid, imaginary limitations he’d set and embraced Tuesday.

Grissom took another step toward her. “Just to be clear…” He cleared his throat. “You’re too young for me.” It sounded like he was setting another boundary, but it was the first thing that popped into his head, and, of course, it came right out of his mouth. Damn it, he’d blown it again, and another panic attack crawled like fire ants beneath his skin.

Until the corners of her pretty mouth tweaked upward, as if she knew he hadn’t meant to be as rude as he’d sounded. Which made one of them. He was still standing there, wishing he could call that lame come-on line back.

“Gosh, how old are you?” Tuesday teased.

The tense fingers of panic relinquished their forward march as her smile spilled over him. Him, of all people. Was it possible? Could she like a guy like him? Not that he was in love with her. He honestly didn’t know what genuine, honest, feminine love felt like. He’d never had it in his life. He wasn’t in love with her now, damn it. But he could be. He could at least admit that much. He did like Tuesday, and he had kind of fallen for her when she was sitting with Luke on her lap, back in the pasture surrounded by all those “giant” horses.

“Twenty-nine,” he declared boldly. Twenty-nine damned hard years of learning how to survive.

“Wow, that’s really old, huh, guys?” she asked his sons.

“Yeah!” Luke squealed. “Daddy’s older than everybody I know!”

“He is!” Tanner agreed enthusiastically. “He’s real old.”

Grissom shrugged off those playful jabs, wondering how old Tuesday was. Not that he’d ask. But someday he might. Maybe.

“I’m glad I’m not that old,” she said as if she’d read his mind.

That was good enough for Grissom. With Tanner still in one arm, he reached for her free hand. “I’m buying breakfast. Let’s ride.”

The sun picked that precise moment to break between the clouds, spotlighting her in a shaft of golden light. WTF? Coincidence? Fate? Or—dare he hope—destiny? Grissom grinned at the sheer stupidity of that third option. She might be the angel who’d rescued his boys—and she was. But he was the nerdy guy in that movie, “Back to the Future,” the guy who’d mispronounced destiny and said, “Density,” instead.

Grissom didn’t believe in destiny. But density? His mother had always said he was as dense as a brick. That —he could wrap his hard head around. Density it was and density was good enough. Look where it got that guy in the movie.