“He was half right. I was able to save him because I tripped on my Legos. I was sprawled on the ground when he fell on top of me from the roof. We rolled together on impact. I’m not even sure it was a Lego that split open my jaw, but something did.”
“Why was he falling from the roof?”
Hank’s eyes grew soft. “It was his first shift. Sometimes they’re violent things and that’s where he was when it happened.” He snorted. “He liked to go to calm down.”
She smiled because he was smiling. Because he’d just shared a memory of his brother at an important moment in both their lives. And because that made her feel like he wasn’t a stranger to her anymore. Not an abductor, not a black bear, but a man with a brother and a heroic scar.
Her fingers trailed across his scar, then up to his lips. They were full and very mobile. She’d been watching them as he spoke. And now she watched them open slightly as she trailed her finger across the lush softness there. Probably the only soft part of his entire body.
“I know so little about you,” she murmured, and yet she felt so close to him. “I have brothers,” she abruptly volunteered. “One in chemistry, one in biochemistry.” She shrugged. “Whole family of science nerds; my dad’s a biology professor. Except for my mother who cooked, cleaned, and meddled.” She grinned. “It’s the Chinese mother way.”
He took hold of her hand, enveloping it completely in his as he spoke. “I’m the youngest. Older sister and a brother who’s gone now.”
She jolted. “Gone?”
He nodded. “Died as a teenager.” His eyes were impossibly dark. “He went looking for trouble and found it. It’s the grizzly in us, pushes us to be reckless.”
She frowned. “But you’re so controlled.” Even in the middle of the fights, his every action had a purpose, his every motion seemed thought out.
“I had to learn that. My brother’s death destroyed my parents, and I wasn’t going to do that to them by being stupid. The military helped, as did the training to become a medic.”
She shook her head. “I know people in the military. This quietness didn’t come from them. It’s all you.” She wasn’t sure if she’d used the right word. Hank was “quiet” in the way of a still, deep pool of water. She felt like she could spend her lifetime exploring his depths and not come to the center of him. So instead, she rested beside him. She drank in his spirit and let herself relax in his peace.
“I had to hit rock bottom,” he said, his voice rough. “To that place where I either chose control or self-destruction.”
A chill swept through her body. “Suicide?”
His lips curled into a wry smile. “Nothing so dramatic. A lot of booze and bar fights.”
“And now?”
He shrugged and his eyes seemed to take on an intensity that belied the warm chocolate brown. It was as though he spoke from the very center of him. “Now I’m looking for my next place in life. I’m done with the military and not sure I’ll take to the new alpha. I’ve got friends and responsibilities, but is that enough to build a full life?”
She understood the question. In her quieter moments between crises, she’d been asking herself the same thing. “I’ve got my job, medical mysteries to solve and all that. But living out of a suitcase gets old.” As did staring death in the face over and over with no one to talk to about it.
Except now she knew Hank, and she knew he would listen if she wanted to share. It was that stillness inside him. It invited her to whisper all her secrets.
“You were never in any danger from me,” he said, his voice gruff. “You know that, right? I was never going to hurt you. I protect people.”
She got that now. She’d seen it in the way he cared for Sammy and Mother. And she’d seen it when he’d leapt across the room to stand between her and the crazy hybrid. He’d saved her life tonight, at the risk of his own. Hard not to melt when a guy did that.
“I know it’s just biology,” she said as she stroked a languid caress along his jaw. “Pheromones or something. I know that, but I want it anyway.”
He didn’t answer. She didn’t know if he even breathed.
She trailed her fingers up his cheek and into the short nubs of his hair. His body was rigid. Was he fighting himself? She’d given up fighting sometime in the last few moments. So she stretched herself up to him. Or maybe she pulled him down to her. Either way, their bodies came close. Almost touching.
He held himself back by a scant quarter inch. She felt the heat of his breath on her lips. She saw the torment in his eyes.
“Biochemistry,” she whispered.
“No,” he said, and she didn’t know if he was denying the source of these feelings or just her.
“I love biochemistry,” she said. Then she surged upward until their mouths slammed together. It was fast and hard, too abrupt and nothing at all like she wanted because he kept his mouth closed.
His lips were sealed against hers, but she moved across them anyway. She stroked her tongue along the seam. She tugged with her arms and angled her head. Anything to get him to respond.
Nothing.
Nothing at all.
Until he completely changed.
