Did he realize he was doing it?
And what did he mean by not seeing much loyalty these days? Had someone abused his trust? There were so many things she wanted to ask him but she probably had no right. Plus she didn’t want to spoil the moment they were currently sharing.
Without thinking Nadia snuggled a little closer to Mitch, placing her hand on his chest. His citrusy scent wafted around her. Instead of stiffening, like she thought he might do, Mitch put his arm around her shoulders, securing her to his side.
They sat like that for a few moments, Mitch continuing to play with her hair. A peacefulness settled over them. It seemedcrazy that they could find this level of comfort with knowing each other in such a short time frame. Surviving a tornado had given her a new perspective on life. It could’ve easily turned out worse. A shudder rippled through her.
“You okay, Boston?”
Nadia picked at the buttons on his shirt. As much as she wanted to share her fears about what might have been, she was reluctant to do so. What if her talking about almost dying would trigger him? Again she was being unfair to him. She had no idea how often Mitch had his attacks. The fact he’d had two around her didn’t mean he had them every day. But she couldn’t avoid answering him either. “Yeah, I was just thinking about how things could’ve been different last night. The can could’ve hit my head at a different angle and I could’ve died. Or the roof could’ve collapsed on all of us.”
Mitch’s muscles stiffened the more she talked.
Damn, I knew I should’ve kept my mouth shut. Way to go, Nadia bringing back bad memories for him.
“If I learned one thing while in the Army and on deployment, life doesn’t come with guarantees and you can drive yourself crazy with what-if scenarios.” He pressed a soft kiss on her forehead. “None of those things happened and everyone came out alive. That’s all that matters, okay?”
She sighed. “Yeah, and I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For bringing up things that could bring back bad memories for you. I know you’re suffering from PTSD, me talking like I did can’t be good for you.”
Mitch shifted abruptly before standing. She had to catch herself from falling on her side. Shit, she’d gone too far. Why hadn’t she just changed the subject instead of apologizing?
“I think it’s time I went. You’ll be okay, tonight? Do you want me to call someone to keep you company?” There was noemotion in his voice, even though his last comment told her he still cared.
Nadia stood quickly, a flash of lightheadedness hit her, and she took a second to regain her balance. A little piece of her cried inside knowing that Mitch hadn’t tried to steady her. “Don’t go, Mitch. Please. It’s almost dinner time, why don’t we order something in.”
God, she hoped he wouldn’t rebuff her invitation. She had to make it right somehow. Make him understand she wasn’t trying to be insensitive to his issues. Or highlight them.
Mitch was a proud man. He’d probably hated this weakness in him. Intellectually he had to know he wasn’t the only former combat veteran who suffered from these types of attacks, but emotionally, he didn’t want to accept he was vulnerable.
“I’m not sure that’s the best idea,” he said, but he still hadn’t moved closer to leaving the living room. That had to be a good thing.
What she was about to say could make the situation worse or better, but she’d already poked the bear a little, she might as well poke it a lot. What was the worst that could happen? He’d walk out and she’d never see him again. Or he’d stay and they’d have a nice evening. And maybe, just maybe, they’d share another kiss where both of them were aware of what was happening around them.
“Mitch, I know what I said was very personal, but I’ve seen you suffer two attacks. One less than twenty-four hours ago. I don’t think any less of you for having them.” Still he hadn’t moved so she closed the gap and placed her hand on his arm. His bicep was rock hard beneath her fingers. “I want to help you, Mitch. I know I can do that.”
He swiveled on her then. “How can you help me, Boston? You’re not a psychologist or psychiatrist. What are you going to do prescribe me with an anti-depressant or anti-anxiety meds?News flash—I’ve already got those. And if you thought I was a zombie during my attacks, when I take those it’s ten times worse. It feels like a curtain falls around me and I can’t see, think or feel anything. It’s a fucking horrible sensation. So I deal with them the best way I can.”
“By ignoring them.” She knew her words were harsh, but they needed to be said. Someone needed to make Mitch see that going alone wasn’t the best way. It was the dangerous way.
“You knowI don’t have to stand here and take this from you.” Mitch blew out a frustrated breath. Part of him admired Nadia for standing up to him. For bringing forth the very subject he batted away with the accuracy of a sniper’s bullet whenever anyone else tried to talk to him about it. The other part of him was pissed that she wasn’t backing down when he was being an asshole to her about it.
“You’re right, you don’t and yet if it really bothered you, you’d have already walked out. Yet here you are still standing in this room. Why is that?” Nadia challenged him, crossing her arms over her chest. The action stretched her t-shirt, accentuating her breasts, a certain part of his body tightening and he wished they were doing something other than arguing.
He was a master at changing the subject, well diverting it. If he kissed her, would it divert her focus off his attacks?
As if she was able to read his mind, she held up her hand. “No, whatever you’re thinking, don’t do it.”
“How do you know what I was thinking about?” The very thought of her knowing he wanted to kiss her was impossible.Even he couldn’t understand the pull to lock lips with her. It seemed he needed her kiss as much as he needed to breathe, which was even more ridiculous.
“It’s written all over your face. You want to change the subject and you’re thinking of things to do that will achieve that.” Instead of putting space between them, like he thought she would, Nadia moved forward and rested her hands on his chest. Immediately his flesh warmed and some of her calm transferred to him. “I’m not going to let you do that. I’m sure that’s what you do with everyone else, and they let you. But I won’t.”
Mitch slipped an arm around her waist, holding her tight against him. “You’re going to be a pain in my ass, aren’t you, Boston?”
“If it helps you, then yes I am.” She lifted her eyes to his and he lost himself in her open gaze. He should let her go. Walk out of her house and drive back to his lonely cottage on the ranch, but he couldn’t.
