Because believing a possible lie was easier than admitting she was afraid of being betrayed again.
Chapter 13
Liam walked in the land between dreams and reality, not sure where he stood or which side he wanted to land on.
But then the ground beneath his feet was shaky in the aftermath of the earthquake that had rocked this Bahamas island. He walked with Rachel in a strange kind of companionable silence, given the world around them. The landscape had changed somewhat.
Less dust. More volunteers erected temporary housing, hammers and saws echoing while dump trucks hauled away debris from fallen structures. Engineers worked on better water and sewage removal. Red Cross workers were everywhere.
The only thing that remained the same? The appalling scent of decaying bodies, still drifting out of the remaining rubble.
What a strange feeling to hang out with a woman who actually understood his job, who had experienced a good bit of the same kinds of hell he’d seen. So she would probably understand his need to leave it behind for a few minutes before they had to plunge themselves back into the thick of it all over again.
“So, ready for our hot date?”
“Date? Is that what we’re doing here? I think not.”
“Didn’t anyone tell you that you want to sleep with me? I thought you already knew.”
She choked on a laugh. “Wow, that was corny. Really corny.”
“I thought you could use a smile.”
“You’re right, and thanks.”
“Happy to oblige, again and again.” He slid an arm around her shoulders. “So stop, drop, and roll, baby, because you’re so hot you’re on fire.”>“I don’t have family.”
“Everyone has family, even if they’re not blood related.” She traced along his chest down to his six pack. How could one man be so lean and muscled at the same time? Every ounce of him was poured into sculpted strength—strength she’d enjoyed the hell out of since they closed that door behind Officer Vogel.
“Okay, then, the fire department of Dalton, Texas, is my family.”
“Fire department?”
“I volunteered there when I was seventeen. I couldn’t go into burning buildings, but I could ride with them. I got to play with the Jaws of Life. I ate good meals and had male role models to give me advice.”
“Your father was dead?”
“No, but my mother died of cancer when I was eleven, and after that, honestly, my father didn’t care what I did.” He held up a hand and she linked fingers with him. “No need to make it a sob story. He wasn’t brokenhearted over my mother’s death. He didn’t abuse me. I had a roof over my head. According to all of the different marriage counselors, he was a self-absorbed narcissist. And since my mother died when I was young, I was constantly seeking to re-create the perfect home life for myself through my many failed marriages.” He rattled off the information dispassionately, as if reciting from a textbook. “And yet I kept re-creating the past by getting into relationships doomed from the start.”
“Um, wow. That’s… sad?” Tragic actually. Every woman in his life had left him, even his mother, who couldn’t help what happened to her.
He kicked the faucet off. “Funny how knowing doesn’t help stop the cycle.”
“I think maybe you chose those women because you knew they weren’t a threat to your military calling. Maybe they weren’t a threat to your heart either. I know how much it hurts, losing your mother young.”
His smile went tight. “Are you planning on hanging up a shingle and charging for the therapy too?”
“Not therapy. Just observations.” She feathered her fingers over his eyebrows. “Just caring about you.”
He captured her wrist. “You’ve got to know history shows caring doesn’t usually end well, where I’m concerned.”
Had so few people cared for him after his mother died that he was uncomfortable accepting affection? Had that been what his therapists meant? Liam, the protector, knew how to give and be in charge, but he didn’t know how to receive. And he was right, in that one-sided relationships didn’t stand a chance.
Damn it, she didn’t know what the future held for them. But she couldn’t turn away from Liam now without making sure she gave him something of herself and that he let her. Even if only on a physical level.
Sitting up, she straddled him, running her fingers over his broad chest.
He started to stand. “I’ll grab some towels—”