In a heartbeat, Natasha shuts down. Her body stiffens, and she tries to pull away, but I won’t let her.
“Doc—”
“No. Not this time. I know what you’re going to say. ‘Gladys will never see us together. You can’t stay. This can’t last.’ But you’re wrong.” I flatten her palm over my heart. “Feel that?”
“Yes,” she whispers.
“It’s yours, Natasha. My heart. It belongs to you. If you want it.”
Tears shimmer in her eyes. “I…I’m falling for you. Or…I’ve already fallen. But?—”
“Then trust me, baby. Talk to McCabe and his team. Listen to what they have to say. If you’re not convinced after that…we’ll leave together.”
With a gasp, she sits up, shock parting her lips and blowing her pupils wide. “You have a life here.”
“No. I don’t.” The realization should come with an ocean of sadness. But instead, a sense of peace settles over me. “The only thing here for me isyou.”
“You’re willing to give up all this,” she gestures around the bedroom, “because we spent one night together?”
I stifle my grunt as I reach up to touch her cheek. “I’ve been alone for a long time, Natasha. I know what love is. I lost it once. I won’t lose it again. And if you think there’s a damn thing in this house that I’d miss—other than you—you’re wrong.”
She’s not convinced. It’s too soon, and she’s still too raw. But it’s the truth. I realized it the moment I found her unconscious on my bathroom floor. I’m in love with her. It’s not logical. We’ve talked more in the past twenty-four hours than we have in a year. But thanks to Gladys, IknowNatasha. Maybe not her favorite color or the types of movies she likes or whether she’s a morning person or a night owl. But I know her heart. And she knows mine.
Her stomach growls, loudly. Shit. “Let’s take a shower. After that, we’ll call McCabe. If he’s going to swagger in here like he owns the place—and he will—the least he can do is bring us lunch.”
Natasha
“If I had a shower like this,” I adjust one of the four heads to rinse the shampoo from my hair, “I wouldn’t want to leave it behind. And that tub…I’d give anything for a long soak in a tub that deep.”
“Not until those stitches dissolve.” Doc reaches for the soap, and I forget all about the tub—and the sharp edge to his voice.
“Oh my God. What happened?” A thick scar runs half the length of his spine, with a handful of smaller, round patches dotting his lower back.
I run my hands down his shoulders, needing the feel of his skin under my fingers. This close, I can tell his hips aren’t completely even.
“Helicopter crash. You don’t find many PJs who retire voluntarily.” He doesn’t elaborate, so I wrap my arms around him from behind and press my cheek to his back.
“Go on…” If he thinks he’s the only one who can demand answers, he’s wrong. I don’t know what’s going to happen this afternoon. Or tonight. Or tomorrow. Or…for the rest of our lives. But I’m going to steal as much closeness as I can for now. If he’ll let me.
He sighs, and I pluck the bar of soap from his hands. His lats tense under my gentle touch, and I’m careful to avoid the wound from the chest tube as I wash him.
“I don’t remember much about the crash. We were on our way to rescue a SEAL team that had been ambushed. We were trying to refuel mid-flight. Something went wrong, and I only remember snatches after that. Half my crew didn’t make it. I shattered three vertebrae and bruised my spinal cord. I was in the hospital for weeks. Then rehab. I’ll never be a hundred percent again, but I manage. Most of the time.”
“And these?” I touch one of the round scars. They’re not surgical. Burns, if I had to guess.He flinches, and I drop my hand.
“I had those before I enlisted.” He backs me up against the wall, caging me with his arms. “If we weren’t beaten half to shit, I’d take you right here.”
He’s avoiding the question. But unlike earlier, there’s something darker in his tone. These are personal. And I have to wonder—will he ever tell me everything? Or for all his talk of trust, will this be a part of him I never truly know?
“I don’t have any clothes.”Wrapped in one of Doc’s fluffy towels, I stare at my duffel bag. I got sloppy. My gun, cash, and passports were always ready to go at a moment’s notice. But a change of clothes? I raided the bag for those years ago—probably on a day I was avoiding laundry—and never put them back.
Doc grunts as he pulls a dark gray Henley over his head. The color turns his eyes a brighter blue. “I washed everything last night while I was installing the camera. Once we talk to Ryker and West, it might be safe enough to go out and shop for some essentials. You probably don’t want to keep using my shampoo.”
There’s an odd note infusing his tone. Almost…disappointment.
“Oh, I don’t know about that. I like your scent on me.”
He hauls me into his arms before I finish speaking. “Fuck, baby,” he growls in my ear. “Do you have any idea how much I want you right now?”
