Page 36 of Wild Child
Even if young Devin hadn't known how much he loved her, at least he had recognized that we had to have a chance to be apart. Her reliance on me had been too strong. She had pivoted her world in whatever direction I took mine. Didn't matter what she wanted or thought. EventhenI knew it wasn't good.
Now here we were. Me, a Marine, rotating through paranoid thoughts about safety and terrible men and the things they do when their mind is in the wrong place. And Ellie who was attempting to create her perfect life . . . without me in it.
She'd certainly stopped her dependence on me.
"I won't retract my suspicion," I said when those thoughts shuffled away. "But I will at least concede that it may be too early for me to say we need to call the trip off and get back." My gaze met hers. "I want this to be successful for you, Ellie. But I also need you to be safe."
Her gaze held mine for a long moment, then she nodded.
"I'll keep my tent close to yours, just in case," she said. "We'll be far enough away they can't eavesdrop on us speaking, and we can put our tents in the brush where you can hear their approach."
Relief rippled through me. "Thank you."
While the wind shifted through the trees, we enjoyed the calm meadow. This moment was probably the best I'd had since being home because we didn't say a word. Just like old times. The water trickled from the dirty bag to the clean one, so I let my thoughts roll out again. Just having Ellie sitting next to me changed the magnetism of the planet. Like everything else came into alignment with her at my side.
And it wasn't just a warm body that I needed; I wasn't lonely. Other attempted girlfriends had left me feeling empty. Like part of my body had been taken away. A segment of my soul walking around out there in the world without me.
A hole that only the Wild Child Ellie could fill.
She leaned back on her hands, the picture of casualness. "So," she drawled. "You asked me a big question on the canoe the other day. Do I get to ask it back?"
"What question is that?"
"What makes you happy now?"
I answered before my better sense got the best of me. "Being here with you."
"Oh."
A beat passed while she soaked that up. In an attempt to recover the amiable air that had come with the question, I continued. "But I'll take the mountains as a close second and hiking as third."
"Can you do those things where you're stationed?"
"In LeJeune?" I shrugged. "Not really. It's on the east coast of North Carolina, so it's great if you like the ocean, but terrible for the mountains. I've driven across the state to Asheville several times, but they’re not the same. Helpful, but there's no replicating this."
She smiled gently. "Yeah, there really isn't. Do you like the ocean?"
"I do."
Her pitch increased, as if she were scandalized. "Better than the mountains?"
I laughed. "No, never. Of course not."
"Right answer.” She grinned, then sobered a little. “None of the things that make you happy are there, then?"
Although she strove to keep her tone neutral, her attempt failed almost dramatically. There was something probing and searching in her words. If any part ofmyEllie lived under the steel plates she'd formed since my absence, she'd be worried that I was depressed, lonely, or bored.
Boredom wasn't an issue, but the others were.
"It's fine. Livable. I love the guys, my brothers, for the most part. But it's not my place. It's not where I belong."
"I can understand that," she murmured. "But I'm sad your everyday environment doesn't fill you with joy, like mine."
My thoughts filtered back to my parents.
"It's worth it."
She nodded, then shivered as a breeze trickled past with a cool breath. I nudged her with an elbow.
