A Perfect Storm
Page 90
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Her expression turned mulish. “You still treat me like a kid.”
That had to be a joke. “How can you say that with a straight face after the morning we had?”
She softened. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.” She tipped her head. “We’ll do it again?”
Hell, yes. But because he never made assumptions about Arizona’s thoughts, he asked, “Did you want to?”
She studied the blisters on her palm again. “Well, the thing is, if everything is settled at the Green Goose, then…I probably don’t need to stay with you anymore, right?”
“Yes, you do.” Damn, he’d said that too fast. She watched him with curiosity—and so much more. He needed a plausible argument, a way to convince her without giving her ideas. “At least until Dare and Trace figure out if anyone else was behind the setup there. Until that happens, who knows if it’s safe?” That sounded more rational, and he let out a breath. “All right?”
“They have Terry Janes and his pathetic henchman, Carl, so it probably won’t take them long to file it away as a job well done.”
Not long enough. But how much time with Arizona would be enough? “Probably not.”
“Then I guess it’d be okay, and yeah, if we’re shacking up, even on a temporary basis, no reason not to reap the rewards, right?”
He grinned—with relief and with need. “Then definitely, we will.” But for how long? He couldn’t let her get so enmeshed in his life that she mistook things—more than she probably already did.
More than he was starting to, because damn it, he was beginning to hate the idea of letting her go.
“Back to staying in shape.” She stroked his biceps. “I think we should grapple sometime.”
Slanting a look her way, he took in her small bones, her slim frame and soft curves, and shook his head. “No.”
“C’mon, Spence. Think about it. While I’m staying with you, I have no way to practice, unless you practice with me.” And to further convince him, she said, “You don’t want my skills to get rusty, do you?”
He’d prefer that she have no need for deadly skills but didn’t think she’d be receptive to that preference. “You’d be comfortable grappling with me?”
“Sure. I was comfortable having sex with you, right?”
“You wore me out. I’d say more than comfortable.”
Happiness filled her smile. “I know. Crazy, huh?”
It shouldn’t have been crazy. He remembered again how amazed she’d seemed as she came, the sheer…wonder of it. And he’d given that to her.
It should have been enough for him, but with Arizona, nothing felt like enough.
“So what do you say?”
He shook his head. “No grappling.” It was too much to ask him to promote her violent tendencies. “But this leads into what I was thinking about—if you don’t want a guy on top of you, how do you fight?”
A little peeved that he’d turned her down, she said flatly, “I don’t let anyone get on top of me.”
As if she’d always have a choice in the matter. He shook his head again. “Is there anything else that still bothers you?”
Shrugging, she acted as if it didn’t matter, then said, “A few things.”
“Will you tell me?”
“I guess I should. I mean, staying with you and all, you’re bound to notice, right?” She sighed long and dramatically. “I’m not a fan of closed space. Like, maybe…your guest room? The one you keep trying to stuff me into?”
“I haven’t—” He shook his head. No, forget that. He’d offered her the use of the room, and she’d declined, that’s all. He hadn’t pushed her, because he’d had suspicions. But it didn’t matter now. “I don’t ever want you to do anything you don’t want to do.”
“Great. Then can I just keep sharing your room? While I’m staying with you, I mean? Would you mind that?” And in a rush: “Not that I’ll be there all that long anyway.”
So where would she go? Another motel? He hated that thought. “Trust me, Arizona—having you in my bed won’t be a hardship.” Whenever he thought of how she’d been hurt, anger burned bright inside him. “Will you tell me why you dislike the room?”
“Seriously? You can’t figure it out?”
Yes, he had a good idea why enclosed rooms bothered her. But he wanted her to confide in him, to tell him everything rather than keeping it bottled up. “You were locked in rooms. Small rooms?”
“Yeah.” Despite the restriction of her seat belt, she drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around them.
Spencer said nothing.
“I’d sit there alone, listening, never knowing what would happen or when. I’d hear people walk by outside in the hall. Or talk. I’d hear other girls taken, or people put into the rooms with them.”
Jesus, he wanted to… He drew a breath. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, me, too.” She patted his shoulder. “Whenever I rent a motel room, it has to have windows that open—not only for an escape if I have to make a hasty exit, but so that I don’t feel trapped. I’ll leave the bathroom door open, too. Rooms that are just a…a box, give me the creeps.” She held silent a moment. “Nights are always the hardest for me. A lot of times, I’ll take a long drive, just to kill time. Sometimes I end up at a bar, sometimes I just troll the neighborhoods.”
That had to be a joke. “How can you say that with a straight face after the morning we had?”
She softened. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.” She tipped her head. “We’ll do it again?”
Hell, yes. But because he never made assumptions about Arizona’s thoughts, he asked, “Did you want to?”
She studied the blisters on her palm again. “Well, the thing is, if everything is settled at the Green Goose, then…I probably don’t need to stay with you anymore, right?”
“Yes, you do.” Damn, he’d said that too fast. She watched him with curiosity—and so much more. He needed a plausible argument, a way to convince her without giving her ideas. “At least until Dare and Trace figure out if anyone else was behind the setup there. Until that happens, who knows if it’s safe?” That sounded more rational, and he let out a breath. “All right?”
“They have Terry Janes and his pathetic henchman, Carl, so it probably won’t take them long to file it away as a job well done.”
Not long enough. But how much time with Arizona would be enough? “Probably not.”
“Then I guess it’d be okay, and yeah, if we’re shacking up, even on a temporary basis, no reason not to reap the rewards, right?”
He grinned—with relief and with need. “Then definitely, we will.” But for how long? He couldn’t let her get so enmeshed in his life that she mistook things—more than she probably already did.
More than he was starting to, because damn it, he was beginning to hate the idea of letting her go.
“Back to staying in shape.” She stroked his biceps. “I think we should grapple sometime.”
Slanting a look her way, he took in her small bones, her slim frame and soft curves, and shook his head. “No.”
“C’mon, Spence. Think about it. While I’m staying with you, I have no way to practice, unless you practice with me.” And to further convince him, she said, “You don’t want my skills to get rusty, do you?”
He’d prefer that she have no need for deadly skills but didn’t think she’d be receptive to that preference. “You’d be comfortable grappling with me?”
“Sure. I was comfortable having sex with you, right?”
“You wore me out. I’d say more than comfortable.”
Happiness filled her smile. “I know. Crazy, huh?”
It shouldn’t have been crazy. He remembered again how amazed she’d seemed as she came, the sheer…wonder of it. And he’d given that to her.
It should have been enough for him, but with Arizona, nothing felt like enough.
“So what do you say?”
He shook his head. “No grappling.” It was too much to ask him to promote her violent tendencies. “But this leads into what I was thinking about—if you don’t want a guy on top of you, how do you fight?”
A little peeved that he’d turned her down, she said flatly, “I don’t let anyone get on top of me.”
As if she’d always have a choice in the matter. He shook his head again. “Is there anything else that still bothers you?”
Shrugging, she acted as if it didn’t matter, then said, “A few things.”
“Will you tell me?”
“I guess I should. I mean, staying with you and all, you’re bound to notice, right?” She sighed long and dramatically. “I’m not a fan of closed space. Like, maybe…your guest room? The one you keep trying to stuff me into?”
“I haven’t—” He shook his head. No, forget that. He’d offered her the use of the room, and she’d declined, that’s all. He hadn’t pushed her, because he’d had suspicions. But it didn’t matter now. “I don’t ever want you to do anything you don’t want to do.”
“Great. Then can I just keep sharing your room? While I’m staying with you, I mean? Would you mind that?” And in a rush: “Not that I’ll be there all that long anyway.”
So where would she go? Another motel? He hated that thought. “Trust me, Arizona—having you in my bed won’t be a hardship.” Whenever he thought of how she’d been hurt, anger burned bright inside him. “Will you tell me why you dislike the room?”
“Seriously? You can’t figure it out?”
Yes, he had a good idea why enclosed rooms bothered her. But he wanted her to confide in him, to tell him everything rather than keeping it bottled up. “You were locked in rooms. Small rooms?”
“Yeah.” Despite the restriction of her seat belt, she drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around them.
Spencer said nothing.
“I’d sit there alone, listening, never knowing what would happen or when. I’d hear people walk by outside in the hall. Or talk. I’d hear other girls taken, or people put into the rooms with them.”
Jesus, he wanted to… He drew a breath. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, me, too.” She patted his shoulder. “Whenever I rent a motel room, it has to have windows that open—not only for an escape if I have to make a hasty exit, but so that I don’t feel trapped. I’ll leave the bathroom door open, too. Rooms that are just a…a box, give me the creeps.” She held silent a moment. “Nights are always the hardest for me. A lot of times, I’ll take a long drive, just to kill time. Sometimes I end up at a bar, sometimes I just troll the neighborhoods.”
