Love of a Marine (The Wounded Warriors Series Book 2) by Patty Campbell

We should probably be getting home soon.”
    “We didn’t have lunch, Mama.”
    “After lunch then, all right?”
    The children walked slowly away, and she placed her hand over Cluny’s. He stared straight at his feet but didn’t rebuff her. She said nothing, because she had no idea what to say. After several seconds, he turned his hand over and squeezed hers. Her heart cracked, threatened to shatter.
    His voice barely above a whisper he said, “I can still smell it.”
    “Smell what?”
    “Black powder, smoke, cordite, dirt, shit, blood. Like it just fucking happened.”
    Shocked at his stark answer, she drew in a breath and squeezed his hand. “Tell me about it, Cluny. Marvin talked about war, what could happen. He said it was the only way to stay sane.”
    “It’s been almost ten years. I should be over it by now.” He raised his head and stared into the distance, blue eyes tragic and vacant.
    “No, Cluny. There is no timetable. Please don’t be afraid to tell me about it. Maybe it will help, maybe not.”
    He put an arm around her shoulders. “I’m afraid to scare you away.”
    She leaned against him “I don’t scare that easy.” The kids were on their way back, carrying the battered belly boards. The emergency beach buggy drove away. “I’m going to set out the sandwiches and drinks. We’ll talk later.”
    “I’m taking a walk.” He nodded in the direction of the Point Dume rocks. “I’m not hungry. Don’t wait for me.” He smacked his leg and Queen fell in step beside him.
    Graciella’s tears threatened again. No, she wouldn’t let that happen. She hailed the kids and reached for towels.
     
    * * *
     
     
    His thoughts jumbled, Cluny walked to the far end of the beach, waving off a couple of comments by beachgoers who’d witnessed his actions to save the old surfer-dude. He didn’t want to talk about it, and the last thing he wanted to do was accept congratulations. No hero, he didn’t deserve congratulations for doing something that had required no thought on his part. An action he had no control over. Thank God for Amber and Santos. They shook him out of it before he ended up decking the lifeguard.
    There were only a handful of people in the world who understood what was wrong with him: Dwayne and his family, Misty Beachy, and the former servicemen who worked for him and Dempsey. Queen didn’t have the capacity to understand the nature of his wound ; she just knew how to respond, to help him snap out of it.
    A couple of years ago at the jobsite for Marla’s condo project, some badasses pulled in the lot on the weekend intent on stealing tools. He, Dwayne, Jack, and Slim had caught them in the act. They went after the bastards and their truck with fists and baseball bats. If Gunny hadn’t shouted an order for him to stand down he could have done serious damage, even killed someone. He was a volcano, rumbling and ready to blow.
    Now Graciella had a taste of the real Cluny. What did this mean for the possibility of them ever developing anything beyond a wary friendship? Could he ever expect to have a family of his own? Or was he destined to bear this burden until one day he’d had enough and shot himself? He wouldn’t be the first. Or the last.
    Stop it, McPherson! You are one pathetic asshole!
    Staring vacantly at the ocean, he was startled from his reverie when his T-shirt landed in his lap.
    “You’re getting sunburned.” Graciella lowered herself in front of him. “Put it on.” She turned and slid closer until she pushed herself backward between his raised knees and leaned into his chest. Her hands rested on his knees. Wrapping his arms around her shoulders, he rested his chin on her tangled, windblown hair.
    Cluny drew a shuddering breath and closed his eyes. He’d do whatever it took not to mess this up. “Are you afraid?”
    “Yes.” She brushed sand off his knees then raised her hands to grasp his forearms. “I’m afraid because I just found you, Cluny. I don’t