She swallowed hard against the memory of the things they did know about each other, intimate things that heated the air like the lotion he’d rubbed all over her body the second day they’d made love because one night hadn’t been near enough. Leaving him had been more than difficult. She’d wanted more, so much more, but time had run out for her.
Now here they were again. What was he saying? She needed to keep sharp around him or her mind would muddle up and she would do something impulsive like ask him to move in with her.
“I may not know you, but I have decent instincts, and I believe you’ll be fair. Plus, you have a day job that will give me some breathing room.”
“Breathing room is important to you.”
She seemed to give him claustrophobia, because his gaze finally broke with hers, away, out the window to the sky he no longer sailed through, only him and his parachute. She imagined the clouds called to him. That she could well understand because the sky called to her as a pilot. She couldn’t imagine having her wings clipped.
Finally, he looked back. “Breathing room is critical. Call it my cave time.”
“A man who admits to Cro-Magnon traits?” She stuck a finger in her ear and twisted. “I can’t have heard right.”
“What can I say? My ex made sure I understood myself well.”
There he went mentioning the ex again. How recent was the divorce? Did it have anything to do with his injuries? He hadn’t been wearing a ring five years ago. Okay, she was thinking way too much about his personal life. “This whole moving in together sounds good, but…”
“You’re having second thoughts about my coming to Charleston with you.”
“I have some kind of maniac trying to blow me up and the last thing I want is to put somebody else in danger. Damn it. I should have thought this through.”
“I’ve already told you, lady, you can’t shake me loose now. If you won’t let me in your house, I’ll be sleeping in a tent in your yard, and believe me, the cold air and humidity will play hell on the rods in my legs.”
In spite of his humor, he was set on a path as steely as the metal in his legs. She could tell he wasn’t going to back off. She would just have to hope and pray the police protection around her house would be enough to keep them both safe.
Rick had helped her before, and while it had only taken a couple of days, she couldn’t walk away from him while he was in need even if it took longer to help him through his recovery.
As much as she chafed at the idea of playing to the he-man syndrome, she also walked in that world daily. She understood how much more it must chafe at him to have the props kicked out from under him.
Men didn’t seem to get the fact their strength came from so much more than catapulting out of airplanes.
All a moot point. Apparently he’d decided his redemption lay in protecting her. And he did need her, too. She owed him for that weekend five years ago. She might not have made it through without the confidence he gave her. So much of her survival depended on the mental.>Now he couldn’t do more than write checks.
Hell.
His thumb hovered over the On button…then he pitched the phone on the bed. He would have to speak to Lauren eventually. Now just wasn’t the best time, right after he almost had his butt blown up by a car bomb…
Then agreed to move in with a woman he’d slept with five years ago. Talk about another sort of bomb in his life.
The phone jangled again.
He stared as if he could will it to silence, prepared to wait it out again…but his hand stretched out with a mind of its own and clasped the receiver. Hell, he couldn’t ignore her call anymore than he could ignore her baby cry at 2:00 a.m. no matter how many times his ex vowed their kid would never learn to sleep through the night that way.
He thumbed the On button. “Hello, Lauren.”
“Hey, Dad.” Her familiar voice greeted him through the airwaves along with the sounds of some fast-food joint. She always enjoyed hanging out with friends over a burger after school. “How come you didn’t answer before?”
“Sorry, kiddo, I didn’t have my phone with me.” His head thumped back against the wall as he lied to his child. Guilt sucked.
“You always have your phone with you. I mean, God, like whenever I see you your cell phone is like an extension of your arm.”
“Like father, like daughter.” He swung his legs up on the bed. Might as well get comfortable. She was chatty like her mother, but damn, he’d missed Lauren’s voice so much he wanted to take in every second of this conversation.
“Dad, I’m not that bad.”
“Kiddo, I pay your cell phone bill. I’ve seen the number of text messages.”
She giggled over the airwaves at their ritual pseudo-bickering. “I’ll try to cut back on the LOL responses.”