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Chapter 27
Donovan picked up the beer sitting in front of him on the polished bar of Cupid’s Arrow Bar and Grill and took a long swallow. He looked at Gavin. “So, Ella told me about being dragged onto your new, ‘fuller’ committee. What’s the deal with that?”
“I doubt Ella used the word ‘dragged.’ It’s not her style.”
“I was paraphrasing. So…what’s the deal with that?”
Gavin shrugged. He’d been doing that a lot lately in interactions with his brothers. When Donovan didn’t turn his gaze away or move on with the conversation, Gavin figured that the shrug wasn’t going to be enough.
“You know how it is. The date’s getting closer, there’s a lot of work that needs to get done. Too much for just two people. We’re calling in reinforcements.”
Donovan grunted.
Damn, and they give me crap about my monosyllabic responses. At least there’s one syllable in those!
They sat and sipped their beer in silence for the next few minutes, which was just fine with Gavin. He was used to being alone with his thoughts. It was his default setting.
Finally, Donovan said, “Why did you come back here, Gavin?”
Oh, shit. This old topic again.
“We’ve been through this. I’m out of the service. Donezo. Kaput. The fat lady, she has sung.”
“I know. You’ve been clear on that point, at least, even if you’ve been about as clear as mud on the reason why. But that wasn’t my question.”
Gavin shook his head a little to clear it. “Well, then, brother, I think my booze tolerance has shrunk significantly if I’m too drunk to follow a simple question after just a couple of beers. I could’ve sworn you asked me why I came back here.”
“I did. And you told me that you’re out of the military. That explains why you’re not stationed somewhere. But it doesn’t explain why you chose Valentine Bay, out of all the places in the world you could’ve headed. First time in over a decade you’ve had that freedom to choose, as a matter of fact. And you chose home, and family. Why?”
The question took Gavin aback. The truth was, Donovan had clearly given the question more thought than he ever had. It had just been an automatic response. Valentine Bay drew him like a homing beacon. For his entire stint, every time he’d been on leave, he’d headed straight here. It just seemed to make sense.
How to put that into words, though?
“I don’t know. I guess you kind of said it. This is home. It just seemed the natural choice.”
“I guess I’m just trying to get to the bottom of why you’d choose to come back to a place where you’re surrounded by family and friends if you don’t even want to talk to us. Because it sure seems like you’d rather be by yourself than with people who care about you. There are a million places to be by yourself, and one place to be with people who care. You chose the one. Maybe it’s time to start acting like it.”
Well, fuck, Donovan wasn’t playing around. He was getting straight to the point. And, yeah, maybe he should give some thought to why he’d chosen to come back to Valentine Bay– but he had a feeling it wouldn’t be all that complicated. In fact, if he were going to be unflinchingly honest with himself, the entire reason could be encapsulated in one word.
Gen.
It hadn’t been his conscious motivation, but when he thought about walking back into town, nine out of ten things he imagined involved her.
Shit.
He was really and truly fucking this up. There was no question about it. He didn’t want to. He wasn’t trying to. Yet, here he was. It was like he was outside his own body, watching himself on a big screen as he went through the motions of completely jacking up every important relationship in his life.
He was a military man. He knew how to approach a problem. First, make a plan. Second, execute the plan. Logic dictated that the same approach would be called for in this situation.
There was one critical difference here, though.
Plans of action were based on two things: the goal to be achieved and the obstacles standing in the way of reaching it. If a plan didn’t address those two things right from the start, it was destined for failure before execution even began.
So, therefore, any viable action plan needed to be developed by someone who not only desired the outcome, but also understood the obstacles.
That was the critical difference, and it was biting him in the damn ass. Oh, he understood the goals well enough. Create a life here in Valentine Bay. Be on good terms with his family. Be with Gen. Those objectives were clear.
It was the obstacles he had no clue about. They were as clear as mud.
In most cases, the factors at play were clear-cut. Depending on the situation, they had to do with personnel, or budgetary constraints, or geography, or weather. Hundreds of variables could wreak havoc with even the most carefully laid out strategy and Gavin prided himself on being able to account for them.
But this was different. These obstacles weren’t tangible. They were emotional. All of these people in his life had all of these feelings, and he was at a loss to understand what they wanted from him, why they wanted it, or how to move forward in a way that would satisfy their wants.
He did know one thing, though: Genevieve was the key. And she’d been clear about what she wanted– for him to come clean about why he’d been at the VA. That involved being vulnerable, trusting her with private information. It involved sharing his feelings. Fuck, it involved actually knowing what his feelings were.
So, great. He knew all the things he had to do. Now he just needed to figure out how to do them.
Mentally, he rolled his eyes at himself. Yeah. That should be simple.
