after a while, a bow drawn taut loses its intensity, doesn’t it?”
He nodded. “Yeah. That’s when things happen.”
“What happened?” she whispered, her words a breath of comfort over him. No demand, no surprise, it was as if she’d known there was something aching there and she wasn’t going to pry it loose, but simply wait until it surfaced so she could scoop it away.
“We lost a guy.”
He watched her face as he said it. Waited for the judgment. The shock or horror. But her expression didn’t change. Her dark eyes might have melted a little more, but that was all. Instead, she shifted, leaning closer to brush a soft kiss over his lips.
Comfort.
Healing.
Acceptance.
For the first time since he’d watched the life drain out of his buddy, Blake felt those things. All because of a tiny little kiss.
No, he realized.
Because of Alexia.
He waited. Now that the door was open, she’d ask questions. She was intuitive enough to sense his loss was more than just a team member—although that’d be devastating enough. She’d make him talk about Phil. About what he’d meant, how hard it was to adjust to life without him.
Blake’s stomach, cast iron in battle, shuddered.
“That has to haunt you,” she said quietly. “And make you second-guess your decisions, be extra cautious when it’s costing you to slow down and be careful.”
Blake drew back to stare at her. That wasn’t prodding and poking. That wasn’t pushing him into facing things. Where was the emotional aggression? She was trying to kill him, wasn’t she? Or worse, make him fall in love with her.
“You need to remember that life’s short,” she said, her palm skimming his cheek. “We don’t get to pick the how or the where. All we get to do is live the days we’re given to the fullest.”
Blake had fallen off a cliff once. You’d think it would be a wild and fast plummet to the ground, filled with fear of the pain that was surely waiting on impact. And it had been. But it had also been surreal, a time to assess every decision, every mistake and totally analyze the misstep that had brought him into the free fall. It was oddly comforting to know that dive to the death provided plenty of time for regret.
That’s how he felt right now. He was falling. He could feel it and knew there was no reversing the direction, no halting the fast plunge. That the landing was going to hurt was unquestionable. That he’d regret not watching his step was guaranteed.
Yet, for all that, if someone tossed him a rope to haul him back to safety, he’d have refused. Because some things just had to happen.
Like falling in love with Alexia.
* * *
BLAKE WAS LOOKING at her as if he could see all the way into her soul. As if he knew what was in her heart and was waiting for a confession. Alexia swallowed, wondering what had just happened. And how she was going to deal with it. Because whatever it was, it felt huge.
And she didn’t mean the erection rubbing against her thigh.
She figured she had three options.
Reach down and slide her fingers over that erection, so they both changed focus to something a lot more pleasurable.
Voice any of the dozens of questions clamoring in her mind, like, who had died? How close had Blake been to him? How was he dealing with the loss after all these months? And oh so many more nosy, prying queries.
Or she could face her own fears and ask him what he was feeling. Ask him what it was like to face the death of someone he cared about, and how he could keep on when he could be next.
She could ask him if she was just an escape, a way to get his mind off those worries. A warm pair of arms and an easy distraction. Or if she was more. If they could be more, together.
That last one was a little terrifying.
Could she deal with whatever he was feeling? Was she ready to hear it? If she asked Blake to open that door, she’d have no choice but to face whatever emotions were on the other side. And then, in the name of fairness, she’d have to give him access to her emotional closet, too. That secret place where she stashed all the feelings she was too afraid to deal with.
She wanted to go with the first option. But she knew she’d hate herself if she didn’t at least try to open the emotional door.
“Since life is so short,” she said, picking up from the last comment she’d made, “don’t you think it’s important to be honest about what you want?”
“I honestly want you,” he said, his words teasing, but the look in his eyes deep and intense.
And there she was, back to choosing between the easy route—sex—or the harder one of emotional honesty. Before Blake, Alexia would have sworn that she’d always pick emotional honesty. But it was easy to think that when there was very little at stake.
She took a deep breath, then asked, “And what else, besides me, do you want?”
She figured he’d sidestep. Dance away or turn the query back to something sexy. A part of her hoped he would. Then she’d know she’d tried, given it her best, but that it was all his fault they couldn’t dive into the messy, core-wrenching pain of honest feelings.
“I want to make a difference. I want to know I’ve done my best.” He looked past her for a second, as if he was scanning his want list. Then he met her eyes again, and made Alexia’s heart stutter. “I want a full life. One that’s more than just the military. I want a home. Someplace, someone that accepts me for who I am. For what I am.”
Stuttering just a second ago, now her heart tripped, not sure if it should run toward him or skitter away in fear. He wanted everything. And she knew he’d give everything in return.
Frozen, more afraid in that second than she’d been when the rat terrorist had offered her up to his henchman, Alexia tried to figure out what to say.
Suddenly a loud buzz rang out. Lights flashed.
Blake’s expression shifted from sexy man to soldier in the blink of an eye as he looked past her shoulder toward the equipment bank.
Fear, already hunkered down in her belly, exploded.
“Is that them? Did they find us?”
“No,” he assured her, sliding from her arms and the cot. He moved toward the equipment, grabbing his pants as he went. “It’s just a message. We check in every couple of hours, remember. Nothing to worry about.”
Bless the navy, she thought as the tension poured out of her, leaving her limp and exhausted. Maybe after some sleep in her own bed, some time to sort through her own thoughts, she’d be ready to talk emotions with him. Ready to share what she felt—hell, maybe she’d know what she felt.
But right
