Page 15 of Coming Undone
He didn’t mention that her reluctance to see him made it easier for him to spend months on end at sea. No other woman had come close to Stephanie, and a couple of years ago, he’d put some effort into trying to find one.
No one fit in his arms like this. No one rocked an air guitar like her. When they’d parted ways before she left for the Middle East, he’d always imagined he’d pick up the phone and call her after her six-month stint to explore the attraction. Neither of them had seen the need to make some big commitment before she went abroad, but they’d been young and never imagined the way her trip would change both of their lives.
He couldn’t tell her that it had damn near killed him that she’d never acknowledged his efforts to get in touch with her.
“So it wouldn’t have been a good idea to see me then, but now it’s okay?” He smoothed a few strands of her hair that had separated from the knot at the back of her head, keeping them from blowing between them in the breeze. The silky locks glided over his skin, another reminder of how delicate she was. How soft and tender.
“Back then, I couldn’t handle any reminders of that time in my life. I didn’t see Christina for a long time either.” Her husky voice rasped in cool air, the admission easing some of the ache he’d felt at her easy rejection of that old letter he’d sent her. “Being with you would have just triggered a whole mess of emotions I wasn’t prepared to deal with.”
His heart slugged his chest, slow and steady. He watched her mouth move as she spoke. She might not be ready to let him into her life, but she’d come here because she wanted to be with him. Maybe that physical connection would have to be enough until he could convince her they deserved more than that.
“And now?” He could feel the whiskey burn in his chest. Or at least he told himself that was what accounted for the fire he felt inside.
“Now, I have too many hang-ups to let my guard down and be with anyone else. I went into pet photography because the animals give unconditional acceptance. I do fine with them, but with most people… not so much.” She traced the seam of the collar on his t-shirt, unaware of how much she affected him. “Since I never had any problems with you, however, I thought it would be a good idea to see if I could still…” Her fingers walked down his shirt, lightly skimming his chest. “… find release. You know. Still lose myself completely in the moment without freaking out.”
The warrior in him demanded to know why, if she hadn’t been assaulted, she would “freak out” during intimacy and who he needed to castrate as payback. But he understood now that he should take care of her first and think about the rest later.
“So this is a test of sorts.” He focused all his thoughts on her. The present.
“For me more than you,” she assured him, her hand splayed along his ribs. Her thighs shifting lightly against his.
“Then we’d better go study.” He scooped her up in his arms, one arm beneath her knees and other under her shoulders. Standing, he left his guitar in the case on the deck, knowing the salt water would trash it but not even caring. “We’re both going to ace this one.”
Chapter Six
For a moment, Stephanie’s nervousness melted away. After months of waiting, she was really going to be with Danny again.
She wrapped her arms around his neck as he strode across the deck toward the French doors to the house, allowing herself a dreamy sigh of satisfaction before her nervousness returned. And she knew it would. She’d pinned so much on this reunion with him that it was inevitable she’d be wound up about it.
“What about your guitar?” She looked back over Danny’s shoulder at the case resting on the patio outside, her heart beating fast as he carried her into the house.
“I have others.” He never broke stride as he strode down a hall off the kitchen. “And if you’re thinking about the six-string…” He paused as he flicked on a light in a big, modern laundry room. “… then I’d better give you something else to occupy your mind.”
“We’re going to do laundry?” She peered around at the stainless-steel front loader washing machine and the old-fashioned drying rack standing beside a matching dryer.
“Hardly.” He turned so she could see the other side of the room where a small, inset stall looked like a mini shower with a big grate on the floor that covered a drain. “I thought you’d want to wash the sand off your feet.”
He set her on top of the grate and removed a handheld showerhead that had been installed at waist level.
“Cool.” Her bare feet were definitely gritty, as were his. “It’s a foot shower?”
“No. It’s a spot to wash the dog I don’t own yet.” He turned the water on but pointed it down into the drain until he was happy with the temperature. Then he handed it to her. “I designed the house myself, and I figured this set-up would be nice to have in the future.”
Stephanie sighed with pleasure at the hot water between her toes.
“And helpful to have when your feet are sandy. How clever.” She worked on the other foot while Danny grabbed a towel from a stack in a basket above the dryer. “I’ll be anxious to take a closer look at the rest of the house to see what you’ve done.”
Stepping onto the towel, she traded places with him so he could wash off.
“Tomorrow,” he said firmly, shutting off the water. He stepped onto the towel before coming toward her. “Right now, I think we have an experiment to conduct. A test to take.”
Green eyes fixed her in his sights.
Her mouth went dry. Nervousness spiked, but not nearly as much as her desire for him. All her hopes for this night – this moment – made her tremble.
The force of the attraction made her launch herself into his arms. She kissed him with years of pent-up longing, allowing herself to show him how much she wanted him. She’d held back earlier, unsure of his response. But now, there was no need. He understood what she wanted.
What she feared.