She nods. “I think so.”
“We have a shower tent, you know,” I say. “The water’s cold but it’s better than a pond.”
Delilah looks at Bec, who raises her hands defensively. “It wasn’t set up that day!”
She turns back to me. “A shower would be lovely, thank you.”
She follows me to the Hub, where we have two portable shower tents set up. “There’s a bucket of rainwater hooked up to a hose and a battery-powered nozzle, so it really does feel like you’re showering, aside from the cold water.”
“Where do I put my clothes?” She looks around.
“I’ll hold them for you,” I offer.
“You’re gonna stay here and hold my clothes while I shower?” She sounds skeptical.
“If you want me to.” I shrug. Most people just walk back to their tents in their towels, but I have a feeling Delilah doesn’t feel quite that comfortable here yet.
“Okay.” She studies me for a moment. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Little does she know standing guard outside her tent is more for me than it is for her. I may have taught her how to throw a punch today, but letting her put those skills to use—hell, even letting her out of my sight—might prove a whole lot harder.
Delilah
Present Day
“You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, 'I have lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.' You must do the thing you think you cannot do.”?ELEANOR ROOSEVELT
I can’t get the feeling of Maverick’s body on top of mine out of my head. He’s a large man—massive, really—but not once this morning did I ever truly feel threatened. I know he would never use his strength against me; it was easy to tell how gently he took me to the ground. It just felt sogoodto have his weight on top of me, and when I noticed him growing hard against me, everything else faded away. I thought for a moment he might’ve leaned in and kissed me, and I hate myself for wishing that he would have. But maybe it’s all in my head. Maybe any man would’ve become aroused in that scenario.
I strip and feed my dirty clothes through the small opening in the top of the tent, which Maverick holds for me. I wet my hair and body with the cold water, hearing Maverick’s chuckle as I let out a small squeal. I wash as quickly as I can manage, shivering all thewhile, until Maverick hands me my towel and clean clothes through the opening. My period is still going strong but thankfully the cramps have lessened—they’re usually only bad on day one. I unzip the tent, holding my arms out for Maverick to hand me the dirty clothes in his arms. Instead, he plucks the wet towel out of my hands and adds it to his pile.This man.
“All good?” he asks as we walk back toward the tent.
I want to snap and tell him to stop treating me like an invalid, but that would eliminate the emotional space I desperately tried—and failed—to put between us this morning. I know Maverick’s not like the men in New Athens, but I’m hoping that by treating him like he is, it will help tamp down the feelings that are inevitably growing for him. “Yes, thank you.”
“You hungry?”
I shrug, keeping my eyes on the ground.
He grabs my bicep gently, stopping us both and turning toward me. “You know you can talk to me, right?”
A single, pathetic laugh bursts out of me. “No, I can’t.”
“And why is that?”
I finally look up at him, a fresh wave of irritation flowing through me. “You know exactly why.”
“I really don’t, darlin’. I could take a guess, but I have a feeling you’re not actually interested in what I have to say.”
I pull my arm out of his grip and cross my arms since I can’t seem to focus on anything when he’s touching me. “By all means.”
He runs a hand through his sandy brown waves. “I think you’re scared.” He steps toward me, and I take a step back. “I think you’re putting distance between us, treating me like I’m someBrotherhoodasshole because you’re terrified of whatever this is between us.”
I take another step back, and my back hits a tree. “Is that so?” I ask, my voice coming out pathetic and breathy.
The clothes in his arms drop to the ground, forgotten. He puts a hand against the trunk above my head and leans down to speak low in my ear. “You’re lying to yourself, darlin’. But you can’t lie to me.”
I swear this man’s like a furnace with the amount of heat coming off his body. He’s so warm, pulling me in like a moth to a flame. “I’m not.”
