“Makes sense.” She nodded, then gestured to the heavy-hued watercolor hanging above the armchair. “Did you do that?”
“I wish.” He shook his head. “But I don’t have an artistic bone in my body. That’s one of Dale’s. He’s the caretaker. The one who filled the fridge for us.”
“He has a way of making the sky look…” She trailed off, searching for the right description.
“Like a dream,” he supplied, and she nodded.
“Exactly. Makes me feel lonely and nostalgic for a place I’ve never seen.”
Warmth spread through his chest when he thought of how much Dale would love that description. “I’ll be sure to tell him. And I’ll be sure to take you there.” The words were out of his mouth before he realized he’d formed the thought. Before he realized howmuchhe wanted her to see one of his favorite spots.
“That’s a real place?” She pointed to the painting again.
“About a mile from here.” He nodded.
“How magical,” she enthused, and then indicated the black-and-white photos sitting on the mantel. “Will you tell me about those?”
The instant the request left her mouth, his gut tightened into a fist.
Vulnerability wasn’t something he was good at. Probably because he’d learned early on that people either looked down on the vulnerable or, worse, took advantage of them. It was unnerving to think about ripping open his chest and showing Grace his heart. Because that’s what those pictures represented. The soft, beating center of him.
Then again, for the first time ever he wanted to beknown.
It suddenly felt as if he’d been waiting his entire life for someone like Grace, someone kind and brave and brilliant andgood, to come along and know him.
“The one on the left is of me and Sergeant Cooper.” He pointed to the framed photograph. “He was my drill sergeant.”
“Aha!” She pointed to his nose. “Iknewyou were military. So what? Ranger? Night Stalker?”
“Green Beret,” he admitted.
She offered him a soft, flirty smile. “I bet you looked amazing in uniform.”
He chuckled and relaxed a little. Flirting was an area he was comfortable with. Flirting was something he was good at. “I looked even better out of it. Still do, as a matter of fact. Want me to prove it?”
“Hunter Jackson!” Her tone was scandalized, but her eyelids lowered seductively. “Are you flirting with me?”
“Woman, I’ve been flirting with you since the moment I met you. I was just trying to be subtle about it. I’ve since decided subtle doesn’t work with you.”
She laughed and there was that effervescent sound again. “Blame it on my raising by no-nonsense tar heels. I’m terrible at reading between the lines. I’m more of a hit-me-over-the-head-with-it kind of gal.”
“In that case, I want to make love to you, Grace,” he told her boldly. “I’ve been fantasizing about making love to you ever since we met.”
The humor in her dark eyes was instantly replaced by something that looked like a combination of embarrassment and excitement.
The embarrassment he understood. She probably wasn’t used to men coming right out and telling her such things. Although, he had no doubt every hot-blooded, hetero guy she metthoughtthem. And the excitement? Well, the excitement gave him hope she felt the same way he did.
“Lord, you make me nervous,” she admitted shakily.
His burgeoning hope withered on the vine. “That’s the second time you’ve said something like that. I don’t know if it’s a good thing or a bad thing. But…” He added the next part cautiously, “I’m getting the impression, at the very least, it’s a no to the lovemaking?”
She shook her head and hope once more bloomed into brilliant life inside him.
“Then, is it a yes?”
“Tell me more about Sergeant Cooper.” She avoided his question. But her voice had gone husky.
As much as he wanted to pin her down—literally and figuratively—he took pity on her. “What do you want to know?”
