Never Far Away by Kathryn Shay

Author:Kathryn Shay
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: ptsd, troubled teens, hidden cove, firefighter romance, firefighter romance series, counseling and psychotherapy, firefighter romance novel, firefighter support groups
Publisher: Kathryn Shay

CHAPTER NINE

Reed had been in a black mood before, felt its ugly oppression on many occasions, but the angry cloud around him had never been as smothering as it had been this week. In the foyer of his house, he picked up a paintbrush and dipped the tip in a can of stain, thinking about Ben coming to check on him twice this week, and Beth's solicitous concern. He'd spurned both his friends—again.

Just as he'd done to Delaney. She'd been home from the hospital four days, and though he'd talked to her daily, he hadn't seen her. She was still recuperating, and sleeping off and on for hours. He hadn't visited her, but knew she was recovering.

Reed watched as the expensive oak turned a golden brown under his brush. The color brought out the grain, accentuating the small knots and grooves. So far, he'd finished five jobs in an effort to keep himself from seeking Delaney out. As he'd built a closet in the basement, he'd reminded himself how fragile she really was, how he couldn't batter her with his nightmares. By the time he'd put up half the shelves in a new pantry, he'd admitted that fear was what kept him from going to her. She could have died in the hospital, and he doubted he could survive that kind of loss again.

"It's what emotional numbing is all about, idiot," he berated himself aloud. "What you've done all these years."

His gaze strayed to the stairs, where Pandora's Box perched on the last step. He'd taken it out of the window seat when he'd finally gotten round to staining the wood. Tonight he was going to throw the collection out. No more seeking comfort in the contents of that godforsaken thing. He'd make a clean break. Discarding those treasures would hurt initially, but he'd heal better in the long run.

His rumination was interrupted by the doorbell. Swearing—shit, he never invited anybody here, but they kept coming—he put down the brush and wiped his hands on his stained and holey sweatpants. Jeez, he didn't even have a shirt on. The hell with it. He ordered himself to be civil to Ben or Dylan or Beth or whoever was visiting; he had his psychologist's mask in place when he opened the door.

And there she stood.

Dressed in loose gym shorts and a T-shirt that read Don't Annoy the Crazy Person, she still seemed fragile. "Well," she said archly. "If the mountain won't come to Mohammed…"

Ignoring the hopscotch his heart was playing, he said sternly, "Going out visiting isn't a good idea, Delaney. You should be in bed."

The corners of her mouth curved up. "Is that an invitation?”

"Home in bed."

"Join me and I'll crawl right under the covers."

His shoulders ached with the unique kind of fatigue insomnia induced. He'd had two horrendous flashbacks since he'd been at the hospital with this woman.

She shivered as a sudden early-evening August breeze swept around her.

"Come on inside."

Once in the foyer, she literally gawked. "Wow, Reed, this place is gorgeous.

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