Chapter 13 #2
I only get a few steps before he calls, “Wait.” How can one word sound like an order and a plea simultaneously?
My heart flutters in my chest, and I stop. He’s walking toward me as I turn around, his hands balled at his sides like he’s looking for courage. “Can I walk you?”
The first thing that happens is that my chest and my stomach try to see which one can distract me the most with their calisthenics, and my second thought is if walking will cause him pain.
He seems so sincere. This side of him is so different from the man I just witnessed coming to my aid earlier tonight, it’s hard to see them as the same person.
Cocking my head, I try to pretend that he didn’t just make my entire night and wave my hand at his truck. “Would it be more comfortable for you to drive me?”
It’s subtle, but the small droop in his shoulders tells me I’ve said the wrong thing, and regret squeezes my heart. Maybe he wants to walk? I just don’t want him to be in pain.
With a small nod that almost looks like one of defeat, he turns to go back to his truck. With that small, simple movement, I feel like he turned a light out, and I desperately want it back on.
Before he can step away from me, I quickly follow up with, “But we can walk if you want to. Actually, I prefer to walk. I just… I thought…” Stopping my embarrassing babble, I pause and take a breath before I lift one shoulder with a smile and clear my throat.
“Would you walk with me? I would like that.”
His lips tip up on one side, and he nods. When he steps up on the sidewalk next to me, the top of my head is just over his shoulder. I walk slow to let him set the pace, just enjoying being next to him for the next five minutes.
At first, the only sounds are the crickets and tree frogs, but I ask the one question I probably shouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole. “How did you hurt your leg?”
Tension drops on the silence like a strong wind before he takes a deep breath, and I feel like a jerk.
“I’m sorry, maybe I shouldn’t ask, you don’t have to answer that.
” Ducking my head, I scratch my forehead.
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I babble when I’m nervous, and that includes asking questions I shouldn’t ask. ”
He suddenly stops, making me stop, and turns to face me. “You’re nervous?”
Oh my God, can this get any more awkward? My face has turned scarlet.
He stopped under one of the big old-timey streetlights that looks like a lantern hanging from a hook, and if I can see the slight grin on his face, he can see that I’ve turned beet red.
Trying to hide my embarrassment, I look away and push some wayward hair behind my ear. I feel like a schoolgirl, and I’m sure I look like one, too.
Nothing sexy or sultry to see here, folks, move along please, thank you.
He softly pinches my chin between his thumb and finger, turning my head back to face him. His fingers are warm, but his skin is rough against mine. “Why are you nervous?”
I clear my throat again. “All I know about you is what people have told me.”
He winces. “Anything good?”
Squinting one eye, I give him a dubious look before resisting the urge to clear my throat. “Not really.”
He turns his hand so he’s cupping my jaw in his palm, and his thumb slides across my scarlet cheek, leaving a trail of fire on my skin that I’m pretty sure I’ll feel tomorrow, while heat warms my center. His eyes roam over my face before he drops his hand and meets my eyes.
After a small sigh, he says, “It was an IED in Qatar. My team was sent to exfil a team of SEALs who had been given bad intel. One of my teammates and a good friend was killed that day. They recommended amputating my leg, but I refused.”
He tilts his head before he goes on. “You now know more about what happened to my leg than anyone outside of the U.S. government, including my family.” A small smile tugs at one side of his lips.
“If the military were to find out I gave you any details about that op, I could be court-martialed for violating the Uniform Code of Military Justice. That puts my future in your hands.”
My face splits with a smile from feeling special again, and I tip my head as I turn to walk again.
He moves in beside me, close enough that our arms touch with each step.
His skin is warm against the cool breeze that would normally have my skin pimpled with goosebumps, but cold is the last thing I feel right now.
Keeping my eyes on the ground in front of us, unable to wipe the smile from my face. I say, “Thank you for telling me.”
“You’re welcome.”
Bumping his arm with my shoulder, I use a teasing tone to say, “Just so you know, there has been a lot of talk about your playboy lifestyle, from multiple fronts.”
He stops again, making me stop and turn toward him. His gaze moves over my face. “I’m not that man anymore, that man died with my military career.”
Not sure what to say to that, I stare into his eyes trying to see any dishonesty, and he stares right back, making sure I know there is none.
My heart pitter-patters even faster as I recognize what this is.
In his own guarded way, he’s reaching out to me.
Silently conveying my understanding, I smile and nod.
Even though it’s the middle of the night and there’s no traffic, we look both ways before we cross the street to the driveway of the B he’s even more gorgeous when he smiles.
“What? Why are you smiling? I don’t want you to hurt because of me.”
When he takes a step toward me, to fill the space I just made when I stepped back, and cups my cheeks in his palms, the world falls away from my feet, and I feel like he’s the only thing holding me up.
Rough calluses turn gentle against my skin; his hands hold my face like he’s holding a delicate piece of glass.
His eyes volley between mine for a moment, and he slides his thumb across my cheek. “I wanted to walk because that would give me more time with you than driving.”
My heart speeds up as I realize he’s going to kiss me; my mind is lost in the bubble I’m floating in. I’m practically speechless, but I manage to whisper, “Oh.”
The small step he takes erases all the space between us, his hard chest is against me and somewhere in the back of my mind, I hope he can’t feel that my nipples are sharp enough to cut glass right now. My head tips back more, and his soft lips press to mine, the scruff tickling me.
A breath that was lodged in my chest rushes from my nose as I lean into him, and my palms find his hips. The kiss is short and soft and addictive. Oh, so addictive, but he pulls away.
Still cupping my face, he opens his eyes before I do, his lips just inches away. “I’ll wait here until you’re inside.”
I don’t want to step away from him, but I do, letting my hands fall to my sides.
Taking a step backward, I look over his face trying to find any duplicity, but there’s none, only the fleeting softness I’ve seen a couple of times before.
My tennis shoes thud softly against the steps as I turn and jog up.
He’s still standing in the same spot, his fingers in his pockets, when I turn around to shut the door. The smile I give him is involuntary. I feel like I’m walking on a cloud, and he smiles back as I push the door closed and lock it.