A Perfect Storm
Page 91
Thank God she would be sleeping with him. He’d hear her if she tried to slip away. “Being in my bedroom doesn’t bother you like that?”
“No.” She studied him. “It’s strange, but I don’t think about most of that stuff when I’m with you.”
Her admission humbled him. “I’m glad.”
After that somber, sad exchange, Arizona turned to look out the window.
It was odd, but he already knew her well enough that he could read her and her moods, picking up on her thoughts and her worries.
They’d reach Dare’s soon, so better to get all said before that. “What else, honey?”
The seconds ticked by without her making a sound, and then finally, so quietly that he could barely hear her, she said, “I don’t want to swim.”
“What’s that?”
Anxiety brought her around to face him, and raised her voice. “I haven’t been in a freaking body of water since major a-holes did their best to drown me.” And with more venom: “I don’t want to swim.”
Of course she didn’t. He should have thought of that himself, but her easy acceptance of storms had thrown him off. “Then don’t. Everyone will understand—”
“No way.” She held up a hand to cut him off. “I don’t want anyone knowing that I’m too chicken to swim.”
Of course she didn’t. Arizona was the proudest, most independent woman he knew. Admitting to a fear or weakness would never sit right with her.
He held on to his frustration, and rather than explain to her that the others would understand, that they wouldn’t judge, he asked, “What can I do?”
She glared at him. “Did you bring trunks?”
“I’m afraid so.” It was supposed to be that type of gathering. Hot summer day, friends together on a lake…swimming was expected, even anticipated.
“Yeah, that’s what I figured, too. I wore a suit under my clothes, but even if I didn’t, I’m betting one of the other women would have a spare.”
And that would rob her of any good justification to forgo a dip in the murky water. “Want me to make up an excuse of some kind?” For Arizona, he’d think of something.
“No, but you can swim with me. And I mean with me. As in really close. As in don’t leave my side even for a second.”
He could do that. Hell, he’d enjoy it, as long as he knew she wasn’t suffering at all. “If that’s what you want, sure.”
She gave a roll of her eyes. “Do you think you can act like you want to be there, not like I’m forcing you?”
Would she ever understand her own appeal? Or for that matter, his strength? “You can’t force me, Arizona, so yeah, no problem. I was looking forward to swimming with you, anyway.”
“Great.” Her shoulders loosened a little. “But I guess we’ll never know if I could force you, since you won’t spar with me.”
“Arizona,” he warned.
She grinned. “So now you know the sum of my personal kryptonite. Small rooms and swimming. Pretty pathetic, huh?”
“I’d say admirable. Most people have things that scare them. Bugs, heights, fire, the dark. Hell, even the boogey man. And that’s just from life, from living, not from…” He cut himself short.
“What? You were going to say trauma or some melodramatic puke like that, weren’t you?”
Lying would be pointless. He wanted to give her honesty—as much as possible, whenever possible. “Probably, yes.”
“Well, you can put a lid on that right now. And while you’re at it, stow the sympathy, too. Don’t need it, don’t want it.”
“I’m afraid you have it anyway, along with anything else you want or need.”
She dropped her feet back to the floor and turned her shoulders toward him. “Sex,” she enunciated plainly. “I’ll take that.”
“Already done. Will be done again. No problem.”
A slow grin replaced her frown. “Thanks for being so agreeable, and for working around my…glitches.”
Is that how she categorized her fear of losing control? He thought of giving her new memories, maybe making love in the lake. It’d be tough, what with the dynamic trio lurking about, but maybe he could finesse it somehow.
Would she be agreeable? He broached the possibility by saying, “There are a lot of ways to have sex.”
“Don’t I know it. But somehow, no matter the way, the guy’s usually still controlling things.”
“Not always.”
Intrigued, she said, “Yeah? Interesting.” She looked him over. “So far, you’ve controlled things, but I barely noticed because I didn’t feel controlled.”
“How did you feel?”
She gave it a lot of thought. “A little wild, I guess. Like maybe I wasn’t me anymore. Like maybe all that really mattered was touching you and tasting you and having you do the same to me. I forgot about so many things because it was all so…”
“Consuming?” Damn, talking about it with her made him hot.
“Good word choice. Yep, that’s about it. Very consuming, but in a great way. Not like consuming fear or pain—just consuming pleasure.”
Every muscle in his body twitched. Every time she opened up to him, his heart felt trampled, and he wanted to get hold of the ones who’d hurt her.
Impossible, since they were long gone.
“No.” She studied him. “It’s strange, but I don’t think about most of that stuff when I’m with you.”
Her admission humbled him. “I’m glad.”
After that somber, sad exchange, Arizona turned to look out the window.
It was odd, but he already knew her well enough that he could read her and her moods, picking up on her thoughts and her worries.
They’d reach Dare’s soon, so better to get all said before that. “What else, honey?”
The seconds ticked by without her making a sound, and then finally, so quietly that he could barely hear her, she said, “I don’t want to swim.”
“What’s that?”
Anxiety brought her around to face him, and raised her voice. “I haven’t been in a freaking body of water since major a-holes did their best to drown me.” And with more venom: “I don’t want to swim.”
Of course she didn’t. He should have thought of that himself, but her easy acceptance of storms had thrown him off. “Then don’t. Everyone will understand—”
“No way.” She held up a hand to cut him off. “I don’t want anyone knowing that I’m too chicken to swim.”
Of course she didn’t. Arizona was the proudest, most independent woman he knew. Admitting to a fear or weakness would never sit right with her.
He held on to his frustration, and rather than explain to her that the others would understand, that they wouldn’t judge, he asked, “What can I do?”
She glared at him. “Did you bring trunks?”
“I’m afraid so.” It was supposed to be that type of gathering. Hot summer day, friends together on a lake…swimming was expected, even anticipated.
“Yeah, that’s what I figured, too. I wore a suit under my clothes, but even if I didn’t, I’m betting one of the other women would have a spare.”
And that would rob her of any good justification to forgo a dip in the murky water. “Want me to make up an excuse of some kind?” For Arizona, he’d think of something.
“No, but you can swim with me. And I mean with me. As in really close. As in don’t leave my side even for a second.”
He could do that. Hell, he’d enjoy it, as long as he knew she wasn’t suffering at all. “If that’s what you want, sure.”
She gave a roll of her eyes. “Do you think you can act like you want to be there, not like I’m forcing you?”
Would she ever understand her own appeal? Or for that matter, his strength? “You can’t force me, Arizona, so yeah, no problem. I was looking forward to swimming with you, anyway.”
“Great.” Her shoulders loosened a little. “But I guess we’ll never know if I could force you, since you won’t spar with me.”
“Arizona,” he warned.
She grinned. “So now you know the sum of my personal kryptonite. Small rooms and swimming. Pretty pathetic, huh?”
“I’d say admirable. Most people have things that scare them. Bugs, heights, fire, the dark. Hell, even the boogey man. And that’s just from life, from living, not from…” He cut himself short.
“What? You were going to say trauma or some melodramatic puke like that, weren’t you?”
Lying would be pointless. He wanted to give her honesty—as much as possible, whenever possible. “Probably, yes.”
“Well, you can put a lid on that right now. And while you’re at it, stow the sympathy, too. Don’t need it, don’t want it.”
“I’m afraid you have it anyway, along with anything else you want or need.”
She dropped her feet back to the floor and turned her shoulders toward him. “Sex,” she enunciated plainly. “I’ll take that.”
“Already done. Will be done again. No problem.”
A slow grin replaced her frown. “Thanks for being so agreeable, and for working around my…glitches.”
Is that how she categorized her fear of losing control? He thought of giving her new memories, maybe making love in the lake. It’d be tough, what with the dynamic trio lurking about, but maybe he could finesse it somehow.
Would she be agreeable? He broached the possibility by saying, “There are a lot of ways to have sex.”
“Don’t I know it. But somehow, no matter the way, the guy’s usually still controlling things.”
“Not always.”
Intrigued, she said, “Yeah? Interesting.” She looked him over. “So far, you’ve controlled things, but I barely noticed because I didn’t feel controlled.”
“How did you feel?”
She gave it a lot of thought. “A little wild, I guess. Like maybe I wasn’t me anymore. Like maybe all that really mattered was touching you and tasting you and having you do the same to me. I forgot about so many things because it was all so…”
“Consuming?” Damn, talking about it with her made him hot.
“Good word choice. Yep, that’s about it. Very consuming, but in a great way. Not like consuming fear or pain—just consuming pleasure.”
Every muscle in his body twitched. Every time she opened up to him, his heart felt trampled, and he wanted to get hold of the ones who’d hurt her.
Impossible, since they were long gone.
