Page 44 of Falling for a Grumpy Hero

I finally left the office with some time to kill, but I’d chosen to get out of there before I got too caught up—with work or with Lila. On my way over to the therapy rooms, I drove past the church where I was supposed to be attending a support group meeting tonight and it dawned on me that I should probably let someone know I wasn’t going to be here.

“Shit,” I muttered, flipping the turn signal and pulling into the parking lot. I knew some of the guys would be worried if I just didn’t show up.

Dan, the organizer, sat in his office in the basement, a thin stream of sunlight coming in through the long, rectangular window above his head. He looked up when I walked in, surprise registering on his deeply lined features.

“Ford, is everything alright, son?” He rose slowly to his feet, regarding me with a mix of patience and apprehension in his gaze. He reached out to shake my hand. “I don’t see you around here often outside of our meetings.”

“Yeah, I, uh, I was wondering if you’d let Joey know that I won’t be here later.” I shook with him before I slid my hands into my pockets. “I got injured on a job and I’m on my way to physical therapy. If history is any guide, I’ll want to head straight home after.”

He chuckled. “Those therapists sure do know how to torture a person ethically. Thank you for stopping by to let us know. I’ll tell him. I’m sorry you were hurt, Ford.”

I shrugged. “It was a freak accident. I’ll be fine. They’re telling me I just need to take it easy and get some rest.”

“Don’t we all?” He offered me an easy smile, pausing in way that made me wait instead of simply nodding and going on my merry way. “Joey and I keep in close contact.”

“Okay?” I hadn’t seen Dan at any of our most recent meetings, but he attended every so often. Joey, our group leader, would naturally keep the organizer in the loop when he couldn’t attend in person. “What’s this about?”

Dan waved for me to have a seat and I did. He sat down again too, his gaze intent, but soft on mine. “You’re one of the older marines in this group. There are a lot of new guys who would benefit from someone like you sharing your experiences, not only as a marine, but as a civilian as well. Especially one who has made such a success of himself after a medical discharge.”

I sighed as the pieces of the puzzle clicked into place. “You want me to talk more?”

He lowered his chin in a nod and smiled. “Sometimes, it’s easier if the guys bring along a loved one when they plan on sharing. There’s even a second support group for family and friends that runs alongside ours. It’s at the same time, but in another room. Just something for you to consider. No pressure.”

I honestly didn’t know what to say. No was the first word on the tip of my tongue, but in the end, I just nodded and stood up again. “I have that PT appointment to get to.”

“Of course. Good luck, Ford.” Dan walked me out, and as I left, I felt slightly off-kilter. After being on my feet for a good part of the day, my injury was starting to ache, but it was more than that.

Before, I’d been fine staying in my bubble of delusion, ignoring the world beyond the dark cloud festering within, but now?

I thought back to that day Lila had drawn the curtains in my living room to let the midday sun in. I thought about Dan and what he’d said about the younger guys. I thought about whether I might actually be able to help those guys if I invited the sunshine into my life a little more often and fought like hell to keep those curtains open.

As I arrived at PT though, I put all that out of my head. The session would be grueling enough without carrying extra baggage into it—and it was. Although I felt like I could get around okay, I was reminded while I was there that I needed to take this seriously.

“If you don’t,” the therapist said as he walked me to my truck after. “You’ll become my youngest client to get a knee replacement. Let’s try to avoid that.”

The warning made my mood plummet. Thanks, dude. As if I didn’t have enough to worry about before.

The afternoon didn’t get any easier when I walked into my house and Lila greeted me at the door. All smiles as always, those blue eyes looked me up and down slowly, as if she was trying to assess the damage before she brought her gaze back to mine.

“I made some food,” she said, weirdly not following me in as I blew past her. “It’s in the fridge.”

Noticing that she was hovering in the doorway as if she was about to leave, I frowned. That’s odd.

Normally, she lingered, talking my ear off and trying to find excuses to stay so she could keep helping me do stuff I was perfectly fine doing by myself. Rook trotted up to come say hi, distracting me from Lila’s strange behavior. I caught a whiff of… blueberries as I stroked my fingers through his fur.

I focused on him for a moment. He was shockingly clean. My eyebrows shot up. Still standing in my own foyer like some kind of awkward guest, I turned back to Lila, spotting several new dog toys scattered around the living room.

I shook my head, opening my mouth to ask exactly what they’d been up to in my absence, but she inched a little closer to the door. “Alright, then. Good luck with the leg, boss. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Rook scrambled over to her and she bent her head close to his, that golden halo of red falling across her face to hide it from me as she murmured something to him. As soon as she’d straightened up, she spun around and darted away from my house on foot.

I watched her walk away and Rook came to me, whining before he slumped down on the ground. Scoffing down soft laughter, I finally tore my gaze away from her to glance down at my weirdly sweet-smelling dog.

“What a strange woman,” I muttered under my breath. “Should we keep her?”

23

LILA