The stream shifted as he adjusted slightly, letting it hit the back of his neck. Steam thickened around him.
“Did your heart rate spike?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“How high?”
“Don’t know exactly. It jumped.”
She moved closer to the glass enclosure, one hand resting lightly against it. Condensation dampened her fingertips. “Did you dissociate at all?” she asked. “Feel detached? Not fully in your body?”
“No.” Finally, he turned. “I don’t need a doctor.”
“What do you need?” she whispered.
He pushed out, grabbed a towel and rubbed it through his hair. She forgot all about being his doctor. His chest was smooth and broad. The osprey tattoo over his shoulder looked ready to strike. His green gaze darkened on her as he scrubbed the towel through his thick hair. “You.”
Her heart stuttered. Even so, she studied his eyes. Clear and focused. Good. His penis was rock hard, and she didn’t need to be his doctor at the moment. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah.” He reached for her, lifting her against his still damp body.
She slid her arms around his wet neck and tangled her fingers in his hair. “Tell me you weren’t the pilot.”
His quick grin reassured her instantly. It was all Ace. “No. I was the passenger.”
It wasn’t funny. She snorted. “I bet you freaked out the pilot.”
The smile widened. “Yeah. Poor Torrington. The guy circled around and landed as soon as he could, but I was already halfway to the riverbank by then.” Ace walked easily out of the bathroom toward the bedroom, his steps unhurried and his body warming hers. “Poor guy.”
“I’m impressed.” She bit into his earlobe.
He jerked. “Impressed? I jumped out, Doc.”
“Yeah.” She leaned back and took him in. “You got into a plane and let it take off first, though. A month ago, that would’ve never happened.” She had to give it all to him. “But if you decide to never fly again, that’s okay, Ace.”
He blinked, water still on his long eyelashes. “Nobody else has said that to me. Not once.”
It was probably because everyone knew how much he liked to fly. She didn’t know him back then, and she’d never seen that joy in him. Maybe the pressure was just too much. “You’re still you, even if you’re not flying.” It felt like he needed to hear that. “You don’t have to fly. You don’t have to do anything.”
He inhaled, his eyes lightening. Perhaps he’d never considered releasing himself of that expectation. “Then what do I do?”
“Whatever you want.” She chose her words carefully as they reached her bedroom. “What else interests you?”
A line appeared between his brows. “I have no idea. From the time I could walk, I wanted to fly.” He stood there in the room, just holding her aloft, no strain on his face. The guy had some serious strength.
She wanted to see him smile again. “The elementary school kids need a new baseball coach.”
His expression cleared. No smile yet, though.
She tried again. “Um, we could use a wedding planner in town.” There it was. His lips tipped. “Yeah, that’s it. We’re having a tough time getting ready for Amka and Christian’s wedding. Who knows, if you do it right, Knife’s Edge could become a wedding destination.” Her eyes widened. “You could create a reality television show. You could call it ‘Love on the Edge.’”
“Smart ass.” He kissed her, his lips wandering over hers with barely a hint of the strength in him. Soft and seeking, kind of sweet.
Desire spiraled slowly through her, making her limbs heavy.
Her fingers slid up his chest, tracing the warmth of his skin, the beat of his heart steady beneath her palm. He deepened the kiss gradually, not taking, just exploring, as if he had all the time in the world. The contrast of him—so controlled, so careful—undid her more than anything rough ever could.
He released her mouth to let her breathe. “I need to tell you, I have a hearing tomorrow.”
