Chapter 12 #3
I could tell him it was my job to support him no matter how angry he got.
And honestly, it would be true. But I also know it wasn’t just that.
I cared about Indy even then. Even at his crankiest, there was just something that drew me to him.
That made me want to do whatever it took to help him feel better.
“Things are better now,” Indy says. “I’m not as much of an asshole. At least—” His lips quirk. “I try not to be.”
“You’re not.”
“I can be. And I don’t like talking about certain things. My hand. The accident. Getting booted from the Army. Those years when I wasn’t sure—”
“Indy.”
“I’m not sure why I’m saying all this. Except that I feel like I can talk to you. I mean, I talk to Rafe. Eden. My teammates. But you… it’s different. I’m not sure why. It just is.”
“It feels different to me, too.” Draping one leg over his, I turn into his body, so we’re partially embracing. Indy hugs me closer and strokes his hand down my back. “I’ve never felt like this with anyone before.”
His hand stills. “Like how?”
“Like… I don’t have to pretend to be normal around you.”
“Pretend to be normal?”
“Act like I don’t have my implants. Act like I can go to crowded places and hear everything just fine, when I can’t.
” Pulling my hair into a loose ponytail, I continue, “I never wear my hair pulled back. Because then people could see them. Which is stupid, and I know I should be fine with it by now. It’s just… I hate the attention. But with you…”
As I let go of my hair, Indy gathers it into his hand, gently holding it back. “You don’t need to hide anything, Bea. Not one thing. You’re perfect just as you are.”
Tears spring to my eyes, unexpected and unbidden.
Aside from my parents, no one’s ever told me I’m perfect. Not knowing the truth of who I am.
“Bea?” Indy’s voice dips with worry. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“No, don’t apologize. It was just… really nice. What you said. And… I think the same thing about you.”
He immediately shakes his head. “No, it’s not the same. With me… it’s not just my hand. It’s… like I said. I’m not the same. And I don’t think I ever will be.”
“Indy.” A lump rises in my throat.
It hurts to hear him say something like that. To hear that he really thinks he’s less when it’s so far from the truth.
I climb onto his lap so I’m straddling him. Then I take his face in my hands and hold his gaze. “I didn’t know you before,” I start, “but I know who you are now. And I like this Indy.”
“But—”
“I like you as you are,” I add firmly. “A little grumpy sometimes. Because really, who isn’t? You’re strong. Determined. Loyal. Caring. You took a huge risk because you believed in me. And even when I was mad at you, you were patient. You let me be upset instead of pushing me to forgive you.”
“Bea.” He leans forward to kiss me. “Hearing you say that…”
“It’s true. Maybe that old Indy was fun. And he liked to do crazy things like jumping off waterfalls and walking a tightrope between buildings. But I want…”
He sucks in a breath. “You want what?”
My heart jumps. “I want you. Not some other Indy from years ago. The Indy in front of me right now.”
Feeling bolder than I’ve ever been, I reach my hand between his legs. “I want you. Maybe it’s too soon, or maybe you’re not interested in me that way—”
His arousal—and yes, it is definitely aroused—jerks in my hand. “Bea,” he grits through a clenched jaw, “are you sure?”
Nervous butterflies burst to life in my belly. “Do you… want me? Or am I reading things wrong?”
In a blink, Indy flips me over and braces himself above me. His eyes flare with heat. “Shit, Bea. Do I want you?” Holding himself up with his prosthetic hand, he palms my cheek with the other. “Of course I want you. I’ve wanted you since—”
He stops. Dull spots of red color his cheeks.
And oh, my. How adorably sexy is that?
This tough guy, who thought nothing of storming a hospital to break me out of it, who risked his life over and over for his country, who thinks just because he’s missing a hand he’s somehow broken—blushing.
Heart thumping hard, I ask, “How long?”
His eyes burn into mine. “Since the first day we met.”
“What?”
“Yeah. You were just… so cute. No. Not cute. Beautiful. But it wasn’t just how you looked.
It was your smile. It was how you didn’t let me intimidate you into letting me off easy.
You just looked at me and said, I know this is hard.
It will be hard. But I’ll be with you the whole time. And you were.”
“I liked you the first day, too,” I admit. “There was just something. And after you stopped coming, I… I missed you.”
“Bea.” Indy’s mouth dips to mine. “I missed you, too.”
I’m caught between crying at the sweetness of the moment and launching myself at Indy because he looks so incredibly sexy.
But launching myself at him sounds a heck of a lot more fun than bursting into tears.
So I twine my arms around his neck and kiss him hard.
I wrap my leg around his, pressing our bodies together.
His now very-evident erection prods my belly.
My core aches.
Need coils deep inside me.
Though I initiated the kiss, Indy quickly takes over. Capturing my mouth, plunging inside, and tangling his tongue with mine.
His hand leaves my cheek and moves to my hips, where the hem of my skirt is currently resting. His fingers trail along my bare skin, leaving tingles of heat in their wake. He breaks the kiss to murmur huskily, “I really like this dress, you know. Especially like this.”
“You mean with it up around my hips?”
“Yes.” Those magic fingers move closer to the apex of my thighs. And I’m suddenly very glad I decided to do some extra grooming, just in case.
One finger brushes across the silky fabric of my panties.
The very damp fabric, I’m realizing.
Indy’s eyes turn nearly black. “Is this because of me?”
I giggle. “It’s not because of Jenga.”
His lips quirk. “I’ve heard of sex Jenga. With positions and stuff written on each piece.”
My core clenches. “That sounds… fun.”
“It does.” Indy kisses me again. “Maybe next time. For now, though… I don’t need a game. I just want to take my time exploring you.”
Oh.
I reach between his legs again, this time unfastening the button and pulling the zipper of his jeans down. “Exploring sounds nice.”
“It does,” Indy agrees. Then he rocks back on his legs and gazes down at me. And even though I’m lying here exposed, with my skirt hiked up to my waist and my panties so wet they’re basically see-through, I don’t feel a moment’s self-consciousness.
But as he reaches for me, he stops midway, uncertainty flickering in his gaze.
“What’s wrong?” I ask. All the things I used to worry about when I was with a guy—are my boobs too small, are my hips too wide, are my implants showing—nudge at me. “Did I do something?”
“No.” It’s immediate. Adamant. “No, Bea. You’re perfect. It’s just…” On an exhale, he glances at his prosthetic. “It might be weird for you. With this. Whether I take it off or leave it on, it won’t feel normal.”
Oh.
My heart.
“Indy.” I pull him back down to me. “I don’t care about that. If you’re touching me, that’s all I care about. And trust me. It won’t be weird.”
I’ve never seen Indy look more vulnerable.
And I’ve never seen him look more hopeful.
“Are you sure?”
I lace my fingers between his. “Yes. It won’t be weird at all. It’ll be perfect.”