A Love Worth Living (8 page)

The way his love had never wavered, even when Carrie had betrayed his care and trust in a million ways.

She tried to shove those memories aside by losing herself in some TV catfight, but the screen was too blurry. Blood pounded in her ears and blocked out the creative insults the housewives always threw at each other.

“Shit, Carrie, what’s wrong?” David’s watery form crouched in front of her. He took her hands in his own and rubbed her palms, bringing warmth back into her cold fingers.

She remembered the last day her father had made French toast. She’d bounced Grace on her knee, feeding her with one hand and eating with the other. She’d learned expert multitasking skills the hard way. If she’d known that would be the last time she’d see her father or Grace alive, she wouldn’t have been so eager to go to the beach with her friends.

Her heart broke all over again, and the pain she’d locked away for decades roared back. She threw her arms around David’s neck and relied on his solid, protective presence to banish the memories.

With a muttered curse, he hauled her onto his lap. He cradled her head against his strong chest and engulfed her in his arms. His soft hands stroked up and down her arm, and she focused all her attention on that motion, losing herself in the hypnotic rhythm of his fingers.

“Shh, Care, I’ve got you. You’re safe. You’re okay.” His whispered, empty platitudes were exactly what she needed to hear.

She tried to pull away from his chest, but a firm hand against her head kept her still. “But I’m getting your shirt wet.”

“Fuck the shirt.” David’s harsh words cut at her.

“I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad—” Before she could finish apologizing, David’s lips stole her words.

Like he’d flipped a switch, Carrie couldn’t think beyond his kiss. The blissful peace she’d had the night they’d slept together once again descended, and she threw herself into the void. Her tongue tentatively licked across his soft bottom lip, and his groan vibrated through her entire body.

He dipped her back to take full control of her mouth. He nipped her lip, and when she opened on a sigh, he deepened the kiss and explored every inch of her mouth with sensual thoroughness.

She knew he’d take the same care with her body, making love to her all day. And it would be her undoing.

A whimper of fear-laced arousal clawed up her throat. She needed this, needed him more than anything in her life, and that was exactly why she should stop. It was for her own good. But his kisses hurt less than the memories, and the longer his lips were on hers, the farther away those dark thoughts drifted—so she chose the lesser of two evils. She’d deal with the fallout later.

For now, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, to steal his passion like the most skilled jewel thief, almost feeling guilty she had nothing to give him in return.

The air turned acrid, and her nose wrinkled. She wanted his clean, woodsy scent, not whatever she smelled now.

“Damn!” David broke the kiss and dashed into the kitchen. More curses followed a trail of smoke that curled into the living room.

She rose from the couch on shaky legs. His kiss had banished her past, for sure, but the lust curling in the pit of her stomach would punish her for the rest of the day.

With each step, she steadied her emotions until she entered the kitchen to see David making a disgusted face at his griddle. He held up a charred triangle of thick toast.

“So much for that.” The wry self-deprecation in his voice pulled a laugh from deep inside her.

“I’m sorry, it’s not funny.” She couldn’t stop laughing. “Okay, maybe it is.” She’d never driven a man to distraction before. And as a bonus, she could suggest they do something else for breakfast.

She didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but the French toast would have tasted like ash on her tongue, no matter how delightfully delicious it might have been. The relief made her giddy.

David tossed four pieces of charred bread into the trash bin while she tried to compose herself. Just when she’d almost calmed down, he turned back to her with a half smile. “I’ll make you pay for that, Care.” He stalked toward her, lethal grace in every line of his body.

Carrie backed up until she hit the waist-high counter. “David—”

His body was on her before she could move, pressing against every inch of her. The ridge of his unmistakable erection throbbed against her stomach.

“You drive me crazy,” he rasped into her ear. Shivers rippled across her skin. “I think a kiss would soothe my wounded ego. What do you say?”

He tilted up her chin until he stared into her eyes. She waited for him to kiss her, but he didn’t move. Tension ratcheted up until she wanted to crawl out of her skin.

“Aren’t you going to kiss me?” David goaded.

Oh no. When he kissed her, all she had to do was go with it. Initiating the contact was something else entirely. She’d only been able to do it once with him, and then, her boldness had been born of desperation and a soul-deep need that had built for weeks while she was abroad.

“We’ve got all day, Care. I’m a very patient man.” His hips ground into her, a blatant reminder of his arousal.

“David, please…” She didn’t know whether she was begging for him to kiss her or for him to let her go.

Either way, he shook his head.

“You take advantage of me, throw me the cold shoulder, melt in my arms, twist me up like a rag doll, and make me burn for you so hot I’m pretty sure my brain is melting. You. Owe. Me. A. Kiss. I dare you.”

His hot words reached into her chest and electrified her heart. She watched his lips curve around each word, a slow-motion seduction she couldn’t resist.

She kissed him with a groan of acceptance and a smidge of resentment at how easily her body caved to him. Her hands slid around his neck until she held him tight against herself. Every inch of his body seared hers until she was sure he’d leave scorch marks.

Stupid, stupid, stupid
, her brain taunted, even as the rest of her cheered. How was she ever going to regain her footing and her control if she had to spend any more time with him outside of work?

It was hard to convince herself that indulging in her desire was a mistake, though, when her body came alive under his. For the first time in a long time, she felt connected, awake…human. She ached to do more than jump from one case to the next and hope she wouldn’t crash along the way.

Now she was on a collision course, speeding headlong into the immovable—and freeing—David Cameron.

Before she could delve into such a frightening future, her stomach rumbled. David chuckled against her lips as a blush warmed her cheeks.

“I guess we need to eat real food, huh?”

“I’ll just grab my purse, okay? Then we can get food downtown.”

“Sure thing.” He still didn’t let her go.

“I should really go do that.”

He nodded, his jaw clenching. “Ah.” David reached to the back of his neck and locked his fingers around her wrists, gently dragging them to her sides before he took a step back.

Her chest ached as space grew between them. She’d just have to get used to it, because that distance had to grow, sooner or later.

She couldn’t let him in. If her past had taught her anything, it was that caring about someone was too great a risk.

She closed her eyes and took three deep breaths to find the calm white space in her head. She opened her eyes to see David glaring at her. At least her heart didn’t ache as much with her mental barriers in place.

He pointed a finger at her. “That’s not going to fly for much longer, Care. Don’t get used to running from me, because it’s not happening.” He pressed his hand against her chest, right over her heart. It gave a little jolt as if reaching for his warmth. “I’m going to show you how to feel alive again.”

She shut her eyes against his words. It wasn’t fair that he could reach into her head and see the outline of her secrets.

His other hand stroked her cheek. “Look at me.” His voice compelled her compliance. “I’m not doing this to be the good guy. I’m being selfish, stealing as much time with you as I can. I need you too.”

Her knees wobbled, but his body held her in place. “I’ll just go get my things.”

This time he let her go. She darted across the hall, breathing easier but aching more for him with every foot of space between them.

Needing him was scary enough, but him relying on her? That was asking for trouble. He needed to run
from
her, not
to
her. She’d just have to try harder to push him away.

It was better for both of them.

Chapter Eight

David kicked himself for speaking too soon. He knew better than to throw his emotional baggage into the mix, but he’d been desperate. When Carrie went blank on him, she shut out the world. She stared off into the distance instead of absorbing the little details of her surroundings. She never got that thinking-too-hard furrow between her eyes. He’d wanted to shake her, to kiss her—anything to shock her back to life.

As they walked to the Metro, emotional distance continued to grow between them like a virus. This yo-yoing wouldn’t lead anywhere productive.

His brother had done that, recovering a little, then relapsing. Each time, his lows got lower.

Back then, David had been too caught up in his undergrad studies and the baseball team to focus on his brother’s problems. He had known Aaron was having trouble after the mortar accident, but his parents hadn’t told him all of the details until later. And his brother, who’d looked up to David his whole life, hadn’t talked to him either. Aaron’s rejection still burned, but not as much as David’s own failings as a brother—and psychologist-in-training—did.

He should have been more aware of what was going on, but by the time he was ready to take a more active role in Aaron’s health, it was too late. David had come home for Christmas after his first semester of grad school, when Aaron committed suicide. The day David returned to campus for the spring semester, he changed his focus from family therapy to PTSD treatment.

He unclenched his hand when they got to the Metro, and his palm throbbed where his nails had dug into his skin.

He guided Carrie towards the ticket machines with a hand on her shoulder. She jumped at the contact, and her back tightened. Fine. He removed his hand and forged ahead, assuming she’d follow him.

He purchased a reloadable Metro card for Carrie and added enough credit to get them around DC. He handed it to her then grabbed his own card from his wallet.

“I could have bought—”

In no mood to argue, he put a hand up to stop her. “I talked you into this day, so I’ll pay. At least let me do that much.”

She bit her lip and nodded.

She had no idea what that did to him. He ached to bite her lip, to see that same acquiescence on her face in the bedroom when she was caught under his body.

Willing his body back under control, he shifted on to a safer topic. “When’s the last time you rode the Metro?” He led them to the turnstiles and swiped his card.

“Never,” she said from the gate next to him. “This is the first time I’ve gone into the city, aside from the occasional forensics conference, and even then I stayed in the hotel and didn’t explore beyond walking distance. I always had other things to do. Besides, I’m not much for voluntarily going underground. Makes me claustrophobic.”

“Are you going to be okay on the Metro?”

She shrugged. “I make it through every underground tomb I explore. I don’t imagine a well-lit train car will be any different.”

He’d keep an eye on her anyway. “If you insist.” Her firm nod didn’t quite convince him, but he let it go. “I’m glad you’re finally getting the chance to explore downtown, or a slice of it anyway.”

She tilted her face up at him and the sunlight caught her skin. “Me too.”

Dumbstruck by her beauty, David shook his head to clear away the distracting erotic visions he conjured up. The motion shook hair into his eyes, which he shoved back in place.

He’d need to get it cut soon, though he wasn’t eager to do so. At its shorter length, Carrie couldn’t grab it—and he had come to love those rare moments when she lost herself enough to cling to him during a kiss.

They stopped on the platform to wait for the next train. The board flashed with the time until its arrival—three long minutes of forced conversation.

Instead of fighting to find a topic, David snagged a spot on one of the stone benches and waited. Carrie followed and sat next to him. Across the way, a young couple waited for a train going away from DC. The woman snuggled up to her man, and he nuzzled her hair.

What had Carrie so tied up in knots that she couldn’t let go? He knew finding out was the key to getting her to open up. Question was, would she let him? Or rather, could he convince her to trust him enough to expose her shadows?

Beside him, Carrie fiddled with her phone.

“You’d better not be checking e-mails. Dr. G had them forwarded to Dr. Stevens, remember?”

She grimaced under his scrutiny. “I just wanted to make sure I didn’t miss anything.”

“Dr. Stevens is a perfectly competent anthropologist. He’s got a handle on anything that might have come up in the twelve hours since you were gone, and if it’s something earth-shattering, Gunnerson will call.”