“Too late. Now be a good girl and finish your lunch, we have a session to start,” he said too smoothly. Why was it that I wanted to please him at that moment? That all the fighting nature in me wanted to give in.
I finished the plate, feeling too full to move. But we had a session to start and then finish so I could go back to reality that I was going to be by myself.
We ended up doing more walking along the trail around the compound. The weather was bearable and it was better than doing an indoor session and being stuck inside four walls. We were in step with each other, and I couldn’t help but glance over at Shooter. The way the sun hit him made him god-like, a testament of brute strength, of someone to fear.
“Tell me why you wanted to be a nurse,” Shooter asked me, completely throwing me off guard.
“Um, I guess I wanted to go into medical school at some point, but nursing I felt was needed the most and still is today. I don’tknow, I just figured that being a nurse was more.” I started rambling.
“More of what?” He kept pushing for a deeper answer.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I just feel like being a nurse was more where I needed to be, helping people through tough situations, being the shoulder to cry on, being a part of a team.”
He looked at me puzzled. “Medical school?”
“Pipe dream, but I wanted something that would match my pace. Some days it does feel like I’m more qualified than some of the residents that pass through the program. Look at it this way, I haven’t been fired for my actions toward certain people nor for my mouth.” I laughed.
“Medical school isn’t all that people make it out to be,” Shooter said nonchalantly.
I laughed even harder, “If you’re telling me that you being a military medic wasn’t a story...”
“Not a story. I wanted out of my hometown after college, and I was interested in the medical field. Military paid for my schooling and then shipped me off for tours until I got out a few years back,” Shooter said, acting like it was no big deal. He just became more interesting the more he opened his mouth.
“Wow, brave, smart, and sexy, what more could a woman want.” That came out too smoothly and there was no going back.
“You think I’m sexy, evil nurse?” He chuckled.
My cheeks flushed with heat, trying to back track my words. “No. I just meant. Fuck, what I meant to say is that you make it sound sexy being in the military and a medic.”
I should really be more careful of what comes out of my mouth before it really gets me into trouble.
“Your secret is safe with me.” He threw in a wink for extra measure.
“You’re impossible sometimes; you know that, right?”
“I like to think there is some mystery to me after so many years,” he teased me. “But military life wasn’t the easiest thing. You try and save as many as you can, and then your heart breaks when you couldn’t. Heartbreak turns into anger, and that’s the road that I stayed down. I knew I couldn’t save them all, but when you take on so much guilt, it haunts you.”
“You did the best you could, Shooter.”
“I can’t stand people getting hurt anymore, not if I can help it.”
I nodded in agreement, but he kept starting a new topic. Filling in the gaps of what I didn’t know and what I wanted to tell him. Until his next question.
“If you could bring a dream house, what would it include?” he asked, stepping alongside me.
I turned. “Really? That’s one of your burning questions?”
“Trying to get to know you.” He smirked.
I played along, knowing he was just trying to distract me. “I don’t know, I’d like a fully functional kitchen.”
“You cook?”
“When I can. But growing up, Daddy would be in the kitchen every morning and breakfast was my favorite with him. So yeah, a good kitchen would be nice. Um. I guess I’d like a little library, maybe a fireplace somewhere. Oh, and a hammock in the backyard. Oh god, and a huge tub, but not the ones with the jet. That would be too much to clean.”
He just chuckled as I answered, like I was amusing him with my answers. I just kept going because in the end we were just talking about dreams not realities. “A huge bed, the fluffiest blankets. Maybe a decent-sized closet, where I don’t have to pack up the seasonal clothes. A mud room or maybe even a Florida room or sun room whatever you want to call it. I want natural lighting, where it feels like I can breathe in it.”
“Sounds like you know what you want.” Shooter taunted, his brushing against mine, but never really grabbing.
