“I’m a bleedin’ eejit.” He plucked a smooth stone from the sand and tossed it toward the foam. Mistaking it for food, a seagull fluttered after it, then flapped back to land at Kieran’s feet.
“It’d serve me right if she never talked to me again.”
The bird ruffled its feathers and stared at him with bright, beady eyes.
“Probably thinks I used her for my own selfish pleasure. That’s what I’d assume in her shoes.” He pulled a half-eaten granola bar from his pocket and tossed it to the gull, who snatched it up.
This is what he got for leaving his therapy group, for his hubris in thinking he could handle the rig fire’s blowback without help. Sure, the long drive to Aberdeen was a pain, and the lady therapist far too saccharine for his taste, but at least that lot would have a clue how to approach dating again.
And what did he get for his stubborn pride? His night terrors returned with a vengeance. He’d rattled Addy, probably destroying her trust, and he could have hurt her too, a thought that filled him with sick dread.
With a weary sigh, he pulled his phone from his jacket pocket and re-read Addy’s text for the umpteenth time.
Please don’t let one bad dream come between us.
Sweet of her to say, but there would be more bad dreams, lots of them. After the rig fire, it had been years before he had a solid night’s sleep.
Maybe the surge of emotion he felt in Addy’s arms triggered last night’s nightmare. Or perhaps it was the ghost, or the phase of the moon, or who feckin’ knows? Whatever the cause, he couldn’t let night terrors take control of his life again, not when he’d finally found peace and a woman he wanted so badly.
“Who’da thought a crusty old fool like me would fall so hard for a doctor?” he asked the gull, who replied with a squawk. “Just one night with Addy, and I’m well and truly besotted. But she deserves a man who’s whole and strong, not a broken mess who battles dream demons.”
Even though he was a thousand percent sure their connection was the real deal, could a man as unstable as him dare to trust his feelings?
“Quit stalling, you fool.” He pulled up his contact list and tapped the number he’d been avoiding for too long.
Getting a cell phone signal out on the beach was a hit-or-miss affair, but this time, his call went straight through.
“Aberdeen Therapy Center. How can I direct your call?”
He cleared his throat against a sudden tightness. “Is Candace Lew available?”
“I’m sorry, sir. Candace has moved to California. Is there anyone else you’d like to speak to?”
“Uh…” He pinched the bridge of his nose, nauseated at the prospect of starting this process all over again. “Has someone else taken over the PTSD support group?”
“Not at present. I can put you in touch with a resource line at the VA.”
“I’m not a veteran,” he grumbled and ended the call. Stiff with frustration, he kicked the sand, startling the gull, who flew away in a burst of mocking laughter.
Kieran’s phone pinged in his hand. Another text from Addy:
I’m on my way. Snoot too. We’re both worried about you.
A flurry of sensations rushed through him—tingling excitement, a prickle of cold fear, and a wash of heat. But if he had a chance at fixing things after last night’s cowardice, he’d better pull his arse together right quick.
I’m on the beach.
He surveyed his surroundings—damn, he’d wandered far from home. In fact, he was closer to Addy’s place than his own.
Meet you at the lifeguard station near the Narwhal Lane stairs.
Three dots pulsed on his screen, then disappeared, then reappeared. At last, a thumbs-up emoji.
Well then, nothing to do but wait…and rehearse his apology.
Ten minutes later, a booming “Rowlf!” announced Snoot’s approach, soon followed by the sand-crusted beast himself, wiggling from nose to tail with delight.
“Hello, fella. Good to see you.” He squatted to ruffle the dog’s fur.
