Hometown Boy

Chapter 8

Check out my lovely covers! Fan made of course. I possess no such talent.

The rain beat against her window and Eliza lay staring up at the ceiling under nothing but the sheet. It was starting to get a little stuffy in her room. Benji was sound asleep next to her. She rolled out of bed and moved to the floor, stretching in a yoga position.

Her mind was screaming at her and would not quiet. She couldn't think straight. Her mind kept flying to the handsome soldier downstairs sleeping on her couch and she had to remind herself he was Benji's father.

She pressed her feet against the floor and bent over wrapping her arms around her knees as she thought. Going forward, there probably was going to be some tricky situations ahead of her. She knew it wouldn't be full sailing no troubled waters ahead.

How was she supposed to explain his significance to Benji? She didn't know if she should stick with letting Benji know Coulter as Coulter or tell Benji the truth. How active was Coulter planning to be in Benji's life? She groaned, giving up. The more she thought about it, the more complicated it became. She had no answers and nothing but questions.

Thunder rolled again and a shrill scream from downstairs made the hair on the back of her neck stand up as she froze. She'd never heard anything like that before. It was animalistic, raw, and full of pain. Benji woke as another scream rent the silent humid air.

Lightning flashed, and Benji cried out as suddenly the floodgates opened and rain slashed angrily against the house. The windows rattled. Eliza shook the eerie scared feeling off of her shoulders and quickly soothed Benji. That must have been Coulter. An astonished curse rolled through her head; a mental what the hell, before she scooped up Benji, grabbed the flashlight and headed cautiously down the stairs.

Creeping into the living room, she saw the man on the couch, sweat glinting on his forehead as he groaned in his sleep. "Coulter," she hollered, shining the flashlight in his face, and then angling it so it wouldn't blind him when he opened his eyes. He rolled over, landing on the floor with a thump and getting caught up in the blankets. He came to with a hoarse cry, fighting the blanket.

"Hey, it's okay," quickly called Eliza, moving closer to him and sitting down beside him on the floor, setting the flashlight on the coffee table on its end.

Benji clung to her like a monkey. Coulter stared at her wide-eyed a moment. Eliza hesitantly reached out and touched his arm, the clammy skin slick with sweat beneath her fingertips revealing his terror. He rank of a nightmare. "You're safe," she murmured softly, "It's okay."

He blinked, once, twice, before closing his eyes as a long sigh left him and his whole body slumped in relief. "It was just a nightmare," he murmured hoarsely.

"That's right," affirmed Eliza, prying Benji off of her slightly so she could adjust.

Gently, she stroked Coulter's forearm feeling the crisp hairs beneath her fingertips. She wondered did he have the same fine dark hair on his chest. She would bet her bottom dollar on it. A man like Coulter was all male, big and tough. There would be no pansy hairless chest for him. The thought secretly thrilled her and she blushed, shocked out of her thoughts. Was she really going there? The man had just had a night terror! And she was wondering if he had hair on his chest. Mentally trying to slap some sense into herself, she snapped back to reality and the current situation.

Coulter was still shaky and recovering his breath. He felt his chest constrict with anxiety. The soothing motion of a hand on his arm grounded him suddenly and he felt the band loosen, his breaths coming easier with each passing second. He felt the hot flush of shame and embarrassment flood his body. Instinctively, he knew it had been a bad night terror. No matter that he couldn't remember it; the concerned expression on Eliza's face let him know. He glanced at Benji who was huddled up in Eliza's lap.

Probably scared the kid half to death. He ran his hand over his head and sighed, leaning back and closing his eyes tiredly. Even after coming home, it seemed there was no rest for him. The bombs, bullets, and death haunted his dreams. He could have bawled right then and there. He was tired of it. Eliza's voice broke through the fog. She was telling him he was safe. And he knew he was. They couldn't get him here. But his mind didn't agree with what he knew to be truth. It would take some time he knew. It was just getting there.

A deep breath in, then a slow exhale. "Thank you," he murmured, tiredness seeping from every pore, "I hope I didn't scream too loud and wake you."

"I was already awake," she answered, taking her hand away, "It's okay."

It really wasn't okay, but she didn't have to know that. He missed the touch of her hand, the warmth and compassion encapsulated in the simple gesture. The way it grounded him felt familiar in a way he'd never felt before. Restlessly, he moved, knocking his shins into the coffee table and mumbling a small 'ow' in response. A light giggle made him look up to see Eliza grinning at him and Benji chuckling quietly under his breath.

"Oh you think that's funny, do ya?" he teased, instantly feeling brighter.

Eliza giggled too as Benji nodded. Eliza's eyes widened, but she held her tongue not wanting to spoil the moment. Benji rarely even acknowledged her, so for him to nod to Coulter who was really a stranger was unprecedented. She made eye contact with Coulter over Benji's head, barely able to contain her excitement. He smiled back at her, his eyes regaining some of their spark.

A few hours later, Benji lay curled up on the sofa, the blanket tucked around him. The eye of the storm had passed and the last vestiges of it were passing through less dramatically. A light rain pattered against the windows. The sun was beginning to peek through the clouds a little. Coulter sat on the floor, his back to the coffee table as he watched Benji sleep. His heart twisted as he thought of what the child had been a witness to. He was so young. It was hard for Coulter to come back from similar terrors and he was a grown ass man.

Eliza tiptoed into the room a few moments later, two cups of coffee in her hands. Coulter looked up at her walking towards him, her smooth gait graceful and sexy in the early morning light. Her hair was rumpled in the I-just-slept kind of way, her homey sweat pants wrapped loosely around her legs and her paint-stained t-shirt falling loose her on her frame.

She looked like somebody's wife.

He felt like a fool for the sudden interest he was entertaining in her. Did he really think that would work? She was his son's adopted mother. He had slept with her best friend. He winced.

And if that wasn't enough of a deterrent, his nightmares would keep any woman out of his bed, not that he was thinking of entertaining any. But the thought of sharing a bed with sweet little Eliza wasn't bothering him like he was beginning to think it should. He had a feeling she would be warm and cozy cuddled up to him. He felt like smacking his head so hard his brain would rattle out his ear and find some sense. He wondered was he losing it.

A beautiful woman like Eliza Darby and his first thought was to cuddle.

But as he thought about it, he realized he really yearned for a woman's touch.

A woman's gentle touch.

More specifically, Eliza Darby's touch.

........

Writing these two's love story makes me so happy. Welcome back to Dogwood my lovely people! My apologies about the long wait. I've been working on other projects that are unfortunately not up on Wattpad. That said, enjoy the new chapter!

Please vote and comment.

Hopefully this chapter is worth the wait I put you guys through!

Sincerely,
Scarlett McLeod