A Love Worth Living (18 page)

For his part, he’d do what he could. Hold her, let her cry, live through every horror as she recounted it—he’d do anything to ease her pain. “Tell me about them. Talk to me.” She stayed silent for so long he feared she would refuse. Then she turned in his arms and settled her head into the crook of his shoulder once more.

The story started off in sharp fragments, but once Carrie started, the words poured from her.

He stroked her hand and tried not to flinch from her account. He still had to look through the pictures from the case, but he knew they’d be devastating, even without the sounds and smells that haunted Carrie’s nightmares. His respect for her soared in proportion to his concern. How had she not burned out already?

Cool tears dampened his chest as she finished. “I feel better.” Her soft voice was filled with awe.

David tilted her chin up and kissed her full lips. “Exactly.” Another kiss, deeper. She tasted like sorrow. And hope. He’d leave it for now, but at some point his help alone wouldn’t be enough. He couldn’t be objective enough with her needs to be the only professional outlet she had.

Her tentative laugh lifted his spirits, as it always did. A smile even perked up the edge of her lips. This time he kissed her long and slow and deep, throwing his heart into it because he knew she wasn’t ready to hear the words. The kiss ended with both of them trying to catch their breath.

“We’ve got big plans tomorrow. Think you’ll be up for it?”

“Are you assuming I’ll agree to spend the day with you?”

He cocked an eyebrow at her, and her smile grew. God, she was stunning when she smiled. He’d be a happy man if he could spend his next fifty years working to put that look on her face.

“Okay, I guess it’s a safe assumption. Do you have another surprise planned?” This time she sounded excited.

“Of course. It’s no fun if I don’t get to see the look on your face, going somewhere new and amazing for the first time.” He brushed a strand of hair from her face. Her eyes, though red, weren’t distant like they had been during her last nightmare, when she’d shut him out.

Progress.

“I guess that means we need some sleep, huh?”

“Yeah, baby. Sleep. I’ll hold you.”

He wanted to fall asleep like that every night, forever. Just when he thought she’d drifted off, she broke the silence. “Thank you, David. For everything.”

He followed her to sleep, his dreams filled with visions of his future with Carrie.

David slipped from the bed early in the morning, thankful he hadn’t woken Carrie. She looked so peaceful he didn’t want to disturb her, especially after the night they’d had. Though he ached for her pain, he couldn’t help feeling honored she’d opened up to him. If that wasn’t progress, he didn’t know what was.

Assured that she continued to sleep, David ran down to the coffee shop on the corner and grabbed two big, flaky croissants, a hot coffee, and a large Americano for Carrie. With the amount of caffeine she drank, he wasn’t surprised she had trouble sleeping, nightmares notwithstanding.

Purchases in hand, he returned home.

Home.
With Carrie waiting for him inside, what else could it be?

He tried to remember the first day his world started to revolve around her, but it seemed he had loved her forever. Not the smack-you-over-the-head kind of love he’d fallen into as a teen, the kind that burned hot and fast before it fizzled out.

This was more like a good roaring fire that started with kindling and grew to consume everything in its path.

Yeah, that’s how Carrie made him feel—consumed. Like nothing before her mattered.

He hoped Carrie would continue to relax and open up to him. They’d be lazy in the morning, have breakfast and watch all kinds of trashy TV. Anything to help soothe her.

TV worked for now, but sooner or later he’d take its place and become the thing that made her forget the horrors of her job and her past. He didn’t have any other choice—he wouldn’t lose her like he did his brother.

David shuddered and quietly let himself into the condo.

Hell, even if Carrie didn’t fall in love with him, saving her was what mattered. He could love her from afar—he was used to that—but to lose her to depression or burnout? No.

He threw the croissants in the toaster oven to crisp while he tiptoed into the bedroom to wake Carrie. Settling on the edge of the bed, he stroked her hair until her eyes fluttered open. “Good morning.”

She stretched and smiled, eyes heavy with sleep. “Morning.”

He saw the moment she remembered where she was. Her expression flattened, and she stiffened under the blanket. He removed his hand and gave her the space she seemed to crave.

“I have croissants and coffee when you’re ready.”

She started to sit up but froze, clasping the bed sheet to her naked body. The tinge of red on her cheeks brought a youthful innocence to her face. She looked healthier than she had yesterday, her eyes more alert, her skin more glowing.

Not that he’d ever tell her outright, but her exhaustion had been obvious in the drawn lines of her face, the dulled tone of her hair and skin. He touched her hand and then left her to her own devices, pleased to the marrow at her improvement—even if she was still skittish.

Ten minutes later, she joined him on the couch, wearing yesterday’s clothes but lacking the nervousness she’d woken up with. For his part, he acted as if this morning-after was nothing out of the ordinary.

With a recorded episode of some makeover show in the background, he and Carrie ate their croissants in amiable silence, aside from her occasional espresso-induced moans.

Her sounds of bliss did little for his comfort level. The last time he’d shifted to adjust the growing erection in his jeans, she’d given him a questioning stare, which he’d ignored as best he could, just like she’d been ignoring the fact that she’d actually stayed the night with him.

He hid a smile behind his coffee cup.

Her jaw dropped as one of the show contestants did something ridiculous and overblown, surely playing to the camera. She looked so damn adorable caught up in the drama that he leaned over and kissed her.

She blushed, and it took all his willpower not to pull her onto his lap and kiss her senseless. Instead, he took their dishes to the kitchen.

“Anything special I should wear for today’s outing?”

“No.”

A smile drifted to her mouth. “Lovely. I’ll just run to my place, take a shower and we’ll head out?”

Visions of Carrie in the shower, water cascading down her naked body, almost made him swallow his tongue, but he managed to choke out a reply. “I’ll be ready when you are.”

She stood and sauntered to the door. “Don’t bet on it.”

His eyes stayed glued to her toned ass until the door closed behind her.

The knob’s
click
jerked him to action. He headed to the bathroom, threw his clothes into the hamper and took a cold shower to discourage his insistent hard-on. There wasn’t time for that, not when Carrie had thrown down a dare to get ready before her.

After toweling off, he hopped into a comfortable pair of jeans, a plain black tee-shirt and his cowboy boots. Though he didn’t often go anymore, he was a sucker for a good line-dancing club. Maybe he’d convince Carrie to go with him some night.

Smirk in place, he sauntered back to the main room and did a double take. Carrie sat on the couch, reading a magazine.

She looked up and a wicked grin graced her lips. “What took so long?”

Chapter Nineteen

In the car, David continued the playful banter that had made the morning-after easier to handle. She was still emotionally raw from the night before but, surprisingly, a weight had been lifted from her chest. Her nightmare hadn’t made a comeback and she hadn’t woken feeling like she’d been an overzealous puppy’s chew toy.

Instead, when her eyes had opened, David’s gentle hand had rested on her cheek, his body far enough from hers to give breathing room, but close enough to feel his comforting warmth.

She watched him drive, as confident behind the wheel as he was everywhere else. The muscles of his arms flexed against his black tee, and the hard planes of his chest begged for her touch.

Whatever he was doing to work out had sculpted his muscles to create bulges and dents she wanted to—and would—run her tongue over. He wasn’t overly built, but had a subtle strength.

When Carrie realized the gentle lull of the car had almost rocked her to sleep, she lifted her lids and snuck a look at him.

She’d done her best to keep everyone at bay, but he’d snuck in. Unassuming, generous…he’d never once asked anything for himself, aside from dodging questions about his brother, which she not only understood but forgave.

Trembles started in her midsection and filtered through her muscles. She cared for him. More every day, like a runaway train she had no chance to escape.

She dug her nails into her thigh and armed herself with memories of her mother’s devastation after they lost Daddy, and her own chasm of despair after losing a father and daughter.

If Chris hadn’t given her something to live for—a career that would help other families going through tragic losses—she would have missed this life path completely.

She never would have met David, or had the chance to try to love again.

It should have terrified her that David had inserted himself into her life. Every time she had a thought about her future, David popped into it. But there was no room for anything but her gentle, tentative…hope.

The warm weight of David’s hand on her thigh soaked through her shaking body. “Okay over there? Sure you’re not too tired to go out?”

“Yeah, everything’s great.” And for the first time, her words held truth.

Her hand drifted to lie on top of his and they drove the rest of the trip in silence, communicating only through their twined fingers.

As a relative newcomer to the DC area, she was still trying to learn where the tangled mass of highways led, especially the ever-confusing Beltway. But she did see signs for Baltimore and wondered what the heck the Maryland city held for them—or if that was even their destination.

But it was. She’d never seen this city before and she marveled at the football and baseball stadiums. “I haven’t been to a football game since high school.”

David squeezed her hand. “Oh. Football was big in your town?”

Any other time, Carrie would have given some offhand comment, but a deep desire to share her past had her mouth running. “Huge. Our local football team won the state championship my junior and senior years.” She swallowed past her fear. “My dad coached them.”

His thumb stroked the back of her hand, and she noticed how tightly she gripped him. “You must have been so proud. And he must have been so proud of you.”

David’s words were light, but she knew—soul deep—he understood the pain these memories wrought.

Blood pounded in her ears. “He was, even when I didn’t deserve it.”

With a soft curse, he lifted their linked hands to his mouth. He kissed each of her fingertips to banish the encroaching sadness.

He shifted the subject as smoothly as he navigated through the city. She caught glimpses of the harbor as he talked about his college experience, telling her funny stories about being the hotshot baseball player at an Atlantic 10 school. In no time, he had her in stitches.

“I love seeing you smile, Care.”

Her heart leaped with warmth, not panic, at his choice of words. A week ago, she would have run the other direction. Now, love didn’t seem so ridiculous a possibility.

Comfortable silence settled over the car for the last five minutes of their drive. David pulled into a public garage near the harbor, found a spot and parked.

Before she could unbuckle, he tilted her chin toward him and took her lips with a gentle, soul-stealing kiss.

She broke the contact, heart in her throat. Without a word, he’d declared his feelings.

Her world tilted again as he got out and came around the car to open her door. Their eyes locked, and she read the apprehension in his. Needing to reassure him, she pulled him down for another tender kiss.

The sea breeze ruffled her hair as they walked along the harbor. When she saw the sign for the aquarium, she rushed closer, pulling him along by his hand.

“How did you know?” She threw her arms around him and didn’t let him go.

Zoos, aquariums, hell, even pet stores were her escape. She made it a point to go to the local animal sanctuaries when she traveled and could get away for an afternoon, but since moving to DC, she’d not visited any of them.

When she’d had enough of the ugliness of humanity, she found solace in the animal kingdom—so long as they weren’t her own pets. She couldn’t handle the commitment required for domestic animals, or the instant attachment she would feel for something with a truncated lifespan.

He brushed his lips against her neck, and her joy morphed into desire. How did she want him all the time? Thinking a one-night stand would help her feel more alive had been spot-on—she just hadn’t banked on getting addicted to it.