Joel wished. He wanted to fix the damage and move on. Because forgetting her appeared to be out of the question, he’d settle for a healthy parting. One that took away the sadness that moved into her eyes when she talked about them.
“What was the word you used earlier on her?” Cam looked up and closed one eye, as if he were pretending to mull it over. “Oh, right. Experience.”
“We’re the same age and I doubt you’re any better at this women stuff than I am.” Joel hoped for Cam’s sake that wasn’t true.
“But I wouldn’t be dumb enough to let that woman go.”
This time Joel nodded. There was that.
Chapter Six
Hope tried busywork to calm the nerves somersaulting in her stomach. With her knee bandaged and everyone tucked away, she tried to settle in. She drew down the bed covers, then drew them up again and tucked them around the pillows.
Next came sitting. She dropped onto the mattress and looked around the cabin. It was a utilitarian space with dark furniture and windows that rattled when a strong gust of air blew in, like right now. Her space measured about twenty square feet more than the others and included an inside shower.
That was pretty much a prerequisite for her on a retreat like this. She’d rather go without than risk flashing half the camp. Here she didn’t have to make the choice.
But she had bigger problems ahead. Well, one. Joel.
He stood with his broad back to her and stared out the small window next to the door. He wore the same pants he was wearing when he’d landed. Charlie had lent him a clean T-shirt. The rest of Joel’s clothes sat in his bag on the helicopter. He insisted another run was too risky in light of the guy practicing his sniper skills out here.
Rain pelted the windows and had kept them all trapped inside for the past few hours. Now the sun had gone down and the ceiling light in the center of the room highlighted everything, including all six-feet-whatever of him.
The ruffled dark hair and scruff around his chin had always been her favorite look for him. Made him look rugged and reminded her of his sexy ability to handle almost any situation.
“We’ve slept in the same room before.” He made the comment without looking at her.
She had to smile. “Many times, but we were dating back then.”
Sometimes she thought the phrase “eyes in the back of his head” was invented to describe him. He always seemed to have a clue about what was happening around him, even if he acted like he didn’t care or his eyes were closed.
“True.” He turned but didn’t move one inch closer. “And no one was shooting at us.”
“Now look at us.” She sat on her hands to keep from fidgeting or waving them around.
His gaze bounced to her lap, then back to her face. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”
Interesting how he had his lines and she had hers. Having him nod off during the next shoot-out was not her idea of a good time. “You’ll sleep in the bed with me.”
“That’s not a great idea.”
Oh, she knew that. His scent, his arms. The way he wrapped his body around hers and pulled her in tight. All dangerous for her self-control. “Agreed.”
He held out a hand. “Then throw me a pillow and—”
“But it’s still happening.”
With that his arm dropped to his side again. “You go to my head.”
And he didn’t look particularly happy about the idea. His face stayed blank and his eyes flat. He froze in place and looked as likely to bolt as he was to take a step closer.
The words both freeing and empty went to her head and stuck there. “What does that mean?”
“I’ve never been attracted to a woman the way I’m attracted to you.” He pushed away from the door and walked across the room.
With each step, his hiking boots fell quietly against the hard floor. The cabin walls creaked and thunder drummed in the distance. The harder the winds and heavier the sheets of rain, the more she waited for the outside to storm in. The sturdy structures held, but a dribble leaked in at the back left corner near the open closet.
All she could focus on was the soft tap of his steps until he stopped in front of her. With only a foot separating them, she could smell him. Feel the weight of his gaze upon her.
As she stood, her gaze traveled over his flat stomach and the smooth muscles under his damp tee. “So, naturally, you left me.”
“Normal doesn’t work for me.”
How many times had she heard that excuse? It appeared to be his favorite, which made it her least. “You say that often enough for it to be your motto.”
“The way I was raised...” He broke off and shook his head. “Look, things can work for a little while but that’s it.”