by Gina Watson
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Sleeping.”
“Why don’t you sleep next door?”
“Shut up, Augie. And didn’t I ask you to stop hurting my feelings? It won’t do any good anyway, because I’m not going anywhere.”
“Fine, but you should know I take up most of the bed.”
His leg slid across the bed with purpose and his heel hit her shin just right, causing excruciating pain to radiate through her. She shuddered and winced and when she caught her breath, she sat up and grabbed at her leg. She lightly rubbed out the pain. The heat at the bite was stronger, and the skin around her shin felt tight. Exhaling noisily, she grabbed a pillow and walked over to the recliner. She set up for the night and found a position that should be comfortable for a few hours.
“You don’t have to sleep in the chair. Come back to bed.”
“I’ll be fine here.”
“I don’t know why you left the bed. I was just playing.”
“I said it’s fine.” But it wasn’t. Her leg really throbbed. But Augie was the patient, not her.
“You’re so stubborn. Just come back to bed.”
She was stubborn? That was rich.
“I was playing around. If I’d known you couldn’t take it, I wouldn’t have.”
“I can take it, Augie. It’s just that your heel hit my sore leg.”
“Oh, sorry. I wasn’t trying to hurt you.”
“I know.”
“Will you please come back?”
“I wouldn’t want to disturb you.”
“You won’t.”
He wasn’t able to move much, so she snuggled alongside him, her back against his side. His arm cradled her head.
“Augie, I love you.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She smiled.
*
“No. Don’t hurt her.”
Augie’s body tensed as he inhaled quickly through his teeth, then he cried out. Mia didn’t know if it was from pain or his nightmare.
“Please, don’t do this. You don’t need to do this.”
“Augie.” She reached behind her and turned on the lamp at the bedside table. His face distorted with ghosted memories and his brow beaded with sweat. “Augie, it’s okay.”
He yelled something unintelligible, but she thought it was Mideastern. She grabbed the damp washcloth from the bedside table and wiped his face. His eyes popped open and went wide.
“Augie.” She gently wiped down each side of his face as she cradled it with her free hand, careful to avoid his wounds. “You were having a nightmare.” She dabbed at each brow. “I think you were speaking a foreign language.”
“Farsi.”
“I didn’t know you were multilingual.” She wanted to calm him so he didn’t tense up and stretch his stitches. “Do you speak any other languages?”
“Persian.”
“I took four years of French in high school. It was a disaster. The teacher said I was the only Canadian who spoke French with a Spanish accent.”
He smiled at her. A big grin that included his eyes.
“Speak French to me.”
“Quand Dieu vous a créé les anges ont chanté.” She rambled on, saying things to him she’d never be able to tell him in English.
He cleared his throat. She passed him some orange juice.
“Jesus Christ, Mia,” he said after he swallowed.
“What?”
“I’m fluent in French as well.”
Heat bloomed in her chest and blossomed out so far, she felt it to her ears. “You are not.”
“I am.”
“No.”
“Do you recall saying when God created me, angels sang? Um … how about my ass is finer than the finest Eastern silk, and the sight of my naked body makes you so wet it’s like the Congo is running between your thighs?”
She turned away from him, beyond embarrassed. Hot face in her hands, she mumbled, “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you spoke French too.”
“I’m glad I didn’t.”
“You’re such an asshat.”
“Hey.” He leaned over toward her and placed his hand on her back, raking her skin, making it tingle. “I like it when you say things like that. You should say more things like that. Only thing is … I’m hard as concrete over here.”
She turned to see the sheet tented over his groin.
Their eyes met, and he quirked a brow at her.
“I don’t think so,” she said. “You have to rest. All that’s going to do is get you hot and bothered. Not so good for your prognosis.”
“That’s just not true. Hot and bothered is an excellent prognosis.”
“Not when you’ve got stitches that close to your stiffy.”
He laughed and coughed and laughed some more. “Oh God, it hurts. Don’t make me laugh.”
“Hey”—she poked him in the side—“think of your grandparents. You got an image of them?”
“Okay.”
“Can you really see them?”
He closed his eyes. “Yeah.”
“Now imagine they are French kissing with way too much tongue.”
“Ugh. God, Mia, you’re a dirty little thing. And mean.”
“Didn’t it help with your problem?”
“No, nothing can help when you’re walking around in your underwear.”
“What if you were to tell me about your dreams?”
His jaw tightened, and he turned away. “Nothing to tell.”
“What are they about?”
“Afghanistan.”
“What specifically?”
“Are you trying to psychoanalyze me again?”
“Just trying to help a friend.”
He was quiet for a long moment, then he wiggled around in the bed.
“An extraction went bad. We were captured and eventually freed, but not before enduring a little torture at the hands of some insurgents.”
“Is that where you are in your dreams?”
He didn’t answer. Just stared through her.
“Augie?”
“Honestly, I thought that admission would shut you up. I didn’t expect you to keep pressing me. Truth is, I don’t really know where I’m at in the dream. It’s a dark room, but the people being tortured aren’t soldiers or Afghan civilians. They’re my family and friends.”
God, it was worse than she thought. She never would have imagined what he saw behind closed eyes. She smoothed his hair from his forehead and placed a kiss just above one eye.
He wouldn’t talk anymore tonight; they’d sleep. She’d hold him and he’d let her.
Chapter 13
Two days passed. Augie wanted to get moving, but Gloria advised against it until his stitches set up and his knife wound started to close. By the end of day two, he was feeling much improved.
“We’re leaving tomorrow.”
“If I were in control of this op,” Gloria said, “I wouldn’t let you leave until the stitches came out.”
“Don’t be ridiculous; I can’t waste away here for a week. We leave tomorrow.”
She held her hands up surrender style. “No skin off my teeth—I’m catching the bus back to the East Coast tomorrow. You guys can keep the car, but nobody should do any commercial flying.” Her head cocked to one side. “Or maybe I can leave tonight.”
She flipped open the laptop. While she clicked away, Augie turned toward Mia. She’d fallen asleep in the corner chair, reading a paperback. He carried her to the bed, his ribs screaming as he lowered her. When he covered her with the comforter, she smiled sweetly and he kissed the corner of her mouth.
“You like her. A lot.”
Gloria wasn’t even watching him, but a smile teased at her lips.
He returned to the table. “What’s not to like?”
“No, I mean you like her, like her.”
“Again, what’s not to like?”
“I think you may be in love with her.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
She shrugged. “Never seen you like this before, is all. And don’t forget, you and I were together for a year.”
Scratching his head, he tried to make sense of her words. “She’s different. You know, not like other women. But in a good way. She just does her thing, and she doesn’t speak in code. She’s a straight shooter, and she sure as hell knows how to handle me. I like being myself around her. I don’t have to worry that she’s going to hold a grudge against something I say or something I wasn’t aware I was doing.”
“So are you saying she’s your soul mate?”
His lip curled into a smile. “Soul mate? I don’t believe in that shit.”
Gloria was multitasking, listening to him and clicking away at the computer. “Hey, I can get a bus out tonight. That’ll put me there within twenty-four hours.”
“You in a hurry to get back?”
“Yeah, I left my dogs at the kennel.”
Her two pugs. “How are Dusty and Rose?”
“Just as fat as ever.”
“Thanks for dropping everything and coming to my rescue yet again.”
“Just don’t forget, that makes three times I’ve saved your ass.”
“There’s no danger of forgetting because clearly you won’t let me forget.”
Bronzed fingers wrapped around his forearm. “Hey, I’d do anything for you, you know that.”
He covered her hand with his. “Right back at you.”
They never were big talkers or communicators; they were both action takers. That had been the major problem with their relationship. But it worked for friends.
He stood. “We’ll take you to the station.”
“You’re going to wake her?” She nodded in Mia’s direction.
Looking at her sleeping form, he said, “Yeah, I won’t leave her here.”
“Don’t be silly, it’s only six blocks. I’ll walk.”
“It’s dark out.”
“And?” She packed up her laptop. “You should be more concerned about me riding across the country on a bus.”
“You have a point.”
She stood and pointed at Mia. “Let her sleep.” They both stared down at her asleep in the bed. “She’s in love with you. And this next part you’re not going to want to hear, but if your intentions aren’t long term, you shouldn’t be intimate with her.”
“I know that. And I haven’t had sex with her.”
“There are many forms of intimacy. Anything that stirs strong desire counts. You should end it now or commit to her.”
While Gloria went to the restroom, Augie was alone with his thoughts. Was Mia misinterpreting what was going on between them? For that matter, was he? Exactly how would he classify their relationship? They weren’t having intercourse, but as Gloria had put it, they were intimate. He understood that and he loved that part, but why did it have to go any farther than that? He knew Mia liked their intimacy too, and she’d been the one to declare she didn’t want babies or marriage or even expect a commitment from him.
“All right, I’ve got to get going.”
On tiptoe, Gloria kissed his cheek. He hadn’t even known she was back in the room.
“Let me know if you need anything, and I’ll be here.”
“Thanks, Gloria.” They hugged for several seconds and then she was gone.
*
Shocked didn’t begin to describe how Mia felt when she woke in a car. Evidently Augie had loaded her and their stuff—without waking her—into the car and, given the distance they’d covered, driven all night. He said he’d promised her a visit to her mother within two days and he always kept his promises. She was excited at the thought of visiting her mother. Now, hours later, she glanced at where his wound would be beneath his shirt. He didn’t look any worse for wear, yet he’d been driving for over sixteen hours and sitting straight in a ninety degree position.
“Would it be possible to stop at a supermarket?”
“Sure, do you need something?”
“I’d like to get some flowers and chocolate.”
“Next one I see, we’ll stop.” He smiled at her. “Mia, I never really thanked you for …”
He stopped talking, and she was dying. “For what?”
“You redirected me. Kept me from taking a life. You saved me from self-destruction. And then you saved me again when you gave me your blood.”
“You almost died, Augie. I would give my life for you.” She rubbed her wrist where the bandage stuck. He’d taken her blood, so part of her was inside him. It was a heady thought.
“Your blood runs through my veins. You’re part of me now, connected by blood.”
They were certainly thinking the same thoughts.
“Don’t you need to rest?” she asked.
“I’m not tired.”
“I mean for your wound. We should clean it and apply a new dressing.”
His lips tightened. “It’s fine.”
“We could take a break. Stop for the night, get some dinner and a shower and a bed.”
“I said it’s fine.”
She sighed. He needed to be whipped with a vine. She imagined her hand slapping his stubborn face. Hmm, he might benefit from a little antagonism. Tendrils of excitement rippled in her sex—must stop thinking about slapping Augie.
“You’re doing it again.”
Looking up, she realized they’d exited the highway and were stopped at a light on the access road.
She swallowed to clear the knot in her throat. “Doing what?” Her voice was a whisper.
“Your color is high and your eyes are hooded. It’s like an instant aphrodisiac.” He rubbed her leg. “Just what the hell are you thinking about when you do that?”
Shit, was she giving off some kind of signal? “I’m just going kind of buggy over here.”
“We’ll stop at the store, grab a coffee.”
In front of a supermarket, he pulled into a parking slot. She reached down to grab her canvas shoes and he was at her door, holding it open. He always did that: front doors, car doors, gas station doors, restaurant doors. And not just that, but he always kept her next to him but slightly ahead, like he was protecting her. She delighted in that and enjoyed not having to take care of herself. Around him she was completely relaxed and worry free. Except when he’d been hurt. But despite his carelessness with his own injuries, he was faring well. His face was badly bruised, but he acted more like himself.
Inside the store, floral was just to the right of the entrance, and Mia gravitated to it. Augie followed, standing next to her patiently as she looked over the offerings. She ultimately settled on an arrangement of bright yellow gerbera daisies and petite roses. She held it out and lifted a questioning brow. He grinned and said, “It’s guaranteed to put a smile on her face.”
The coffee nook in the store was swinging. The line was long, so he left her to order their coffee and went to the restroom. She put in their order and wandered off to the produce section. Wheatgrass shooters were available and an advertisement read Increases red blood cell count. That would be good for Augie. However, getting him to take it would be a huge hurdle. He didn’t like any vegetables, even on a sandwich or coated with dressing in a salad. She ordered two anyway and returned to the coffee corner.
“What’s that green shit?” The raspy, low words came at her over her shoulder.
She turned and smiled wide, then kissed his cheek. “Green-apple shooter.” She shot hers. It was awful—tasted like dirt and grass. Too green, but she was determined to have him swallow his. “Mmm, it’s delicious. Here.” She shoved the other cup at his chest. “Shoot it.”
He took the little cup in his thumb and index finger and analyzed it. Shrugging, he held it to his lips and tossed it back. His face contorted, and she laughed until she cried. He shuddered.
“You’re so going to pay for that.”
He reached for her, but she squealed and took off running down the cereal aisle. He was gaining on her,
so she darted left at the end of the aisle. Running through the store was rude and she got several unsavory looks from shoppers, despite her apologies. She hit the back corner and there was nowhere to go, so she whirled around. Steel arms trapped her face first against the frozen vegetables.
His nose tickled behind her ear as he lightly touched it to her skin. His breath a whisper when he said, “Where are you off to, Miss Brown?” His voice was raspy and low, and the sound delved deep into her core.
A chill started low in her spine, running like a flint line up her back, and she shivered. She turned in his embrace and faced him. Her nipples poked stiffly through her white T-shirt. His eyes widened and then narrowed as he watched her anatomy change.
He growled and placed one hand on the glass door near her head while the other squeezed her breast. His thumb and index finger pinched around her cloth-covered nipple, making her moan.
“Augie, there are cameras.”
“Does that turn you on?”
“What? No!”
Warm, slick lips crashed down on hers. Teeth tugged at the soft tissue of her bottom lip before releasing it. His tongue slipped into her mouth and tangled with hers, and she tasted the wheatgrass on his moist breath. The moan from his throat vibrated through her. Behind them someone cleared a throat.
“If you don’t mind, I need to get a bag of stewing vegetables. And might I remind you this is a family place.”
Augie turned, leaving Mia pressed against the glass as he regarded the irritated customer. Mia was so drunk with passion, she didn’t care that the gray-haired woman glowered at them.
“My apologies. She’s just so damn beautiful, I can’t help it.” He put his hand in hers and pulled her along. “Come on, baby, let’s go pick up our coffee.”
Mia smiled blissfully at the old woman.
When they passed the dairy section, Augie pulled a can of sweetened whipped cream from the shelf.
“What are we going to do with that?”
He quirked a brow at her. “We’re staying in town for the night.”
“I thought we were pressing straight through.”
“Plans have changed. Roll with it.”
Chapter 14