CHAPTER 9
CAITLYN WOKE SLOWLY, the golden light of sunrise peeking through the slats of the shutters, and immediately wished she could fall back into ignorant oblivion. Good God. She hadcriedlast night. And worse yet, in front of Kurt.
What the hell was wrong with her? She rarely shed tears, and sure as hell not in public. He seemed to bring out all of her vulnerabilities.
Like now, for example. Not only had she dragged the bedspread over to the couch and let him comfort her, she had fallen asleep in his arms. Then, at some point during the night, he had moved onto his back and now she lay sprawled across his muscled torso, using his broad chest as a pillow. He was warm and solid and delicious. Her legs were twined with his thighs and his erection pressed againsther hip, thick and hard.
How easy it would be to move over a few inches, push aside her panties, and make them both happy. Her stomach dipped. If their earlier kisses were any indication, he wouldn’t protest. But it wouldn’t be fair to lead him on. He wanted a wife and a family, and she could offer neither.
The tears burned again. Goddammit.
Trying to avoid jostling him, she let her right legslide down until her foot hit the floor. Then she pushed against the back of the couch to lift herself up, the bedspread pooling at her feet.
His dark eyes opened and he stared up at her, blinking once or twice before he jolted upright and crossed his wrists over his lap. “Morning,” he said, his voice rusty.
“Sorry.” She tugged on the hem of her T-shirt and folded her arms, though it was probablytoo late to hide the see-through nature of the thin cotton. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
He glanced at his watch, his cheeks turning pink. “No problem. I’m usually up by now.”
Her gaze strayed to his residual limbs—the correct term for his stumps, according to the research she’d done after he told her about his injuries. Last night, it had been too dark to see them clearly, and she had expectedmuch worse. Basically, his thighs looked…normal, muscular, in fact, until tapering just above where his knees would be. The skin at the end was hairless and stretched, and each leg had been rounded off into a pillowy shape with a shiny scar along the bottom.
“It’s weird, isn’t it?”
“I’m sorry.” She was stuck in apology mode now. “I didn’t mean to stare.”
He shook his head. “It’s okay. I’d ratheryou stare than be afraid to look.”
She swallowed. “Does it hurt to walk on them?”
“Not anymore.”
He didn’t want or need pity, but she still hated that he’d gone through so much pain and struggle. “How long were you in the hospital?”
“In-patient and out-patient combined, I lived at Walter Reed for almost two years.”
Jesus. “That long?” She couldn’t even imagine.
“I don’t know how I would’vegotten through it if Sara hadn’t quit her job and moved in with me.”
Because their parents had died, and he’d had no one else to advocate for him. Sara was a much better sister than Caitlyn had ever been. “That’s where she met your physical therapist?”
“Yeah, Soham. He makes her happy, so I let him live.” Kurt gave her a cheeky smile.
Her chest constricted. “I’m gladyoulived.” As if she wouldhave wished otherwise. The words sounded stupid as soon as they came out of her mouth.
“Me too.” His smile turned into a full-blown sexy grin. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t be sitting here half naked after spending the night with you.”
Half naked and sexy as hell. Up close she could clearly see that the tattoo on his left pec was a curling ribbon emblazoned with “That Others May Live.” The second halfof the pararescue motto was a summary of Kurt in four words, and it only made him more desirable.
Her cheeks burned. Damned fair skin. “All these comfortable beds and we ended up on the couch. I hope it wasn’t too bad for you,” she said, keeping her voice light.
He laughed, deep and playful. “I will happily sleep under you anywhere, anytime, Braveheart,” he said, invoking the stupid play onher last name Terrell had been so proud of.
“Oh, God.” She rolled her eyes and bent to grab the bedspread and wrap it around her shoulders. With luck, the move hid the jolt of lust that shot straight to her core at his suggestion. “Men.” Tamping down her unwanted attraction, she straightened. “Do you need to use the toilet?”
“Go for it. I can wait. If I get desperate there are two other restroomsin the house.”
Snatching up a change of clothes, she threw the quilt on the bed and shut herself into the bathroom without a backward glance.
