Cut to the Chase

by Lori Ryan

  He grinned. “But you’re thinking about it now. I can see those wheels turning.”

  She couldn’t help but smile back. She was thinking about it. She’d love to see what was on the market and look for ways to either improve what was available, or make the existing technology available in a more affordable way.

  “We should talk to Jax about it,” Warrick said.

  Their soup and salad arrived and Sara was glad she’d ordered it. She realized she’d forgotten to eat lunch. She’d been nervous about the interview, but Warrick had been right. As soon as the host got her out there, he’d started talking to her like they were old friends, and she’d been able to relax.

  She had to force herself to slow down so she didn’t seem like she’d never had a decent meal. “How can a salad be this good?” She asked.

  “I have two theories.” Warrick surprised her with his answer. “One, I’ve discovered everything here is insanely fresh. Chances are, that lettuce was in the ground this morning.”

  Sara shook her head. “It’s winter. They couldn’t have gotten it locally.”

  Warrick gave a head shake of his own, but his was accompanied by a smug grin. “Hydroponics. They use a local place for much of their produce, and it’s produced year-round with hydroponic farming.”

  Sara should have guessed that, she realized. She’d kind of love to see how they did it. “So what’s the second part of your theory?” Sara asked, before taking the last bite of her salad.

  “The dressing.”

  “Agreed. I’m easy to impress after eating military food, but that dressing was amazing.”

  “The food was that bad in the military?”

  She laughed. “Oh yeah. Well, not all the time. It depended a lot on where we were. For basic training, the food was awful. But, then, you’re so damned exhausted all the time, you probably wouldn’t taste the difference if it was good so it didn’t matter all that much. It was enough to get something in your stomach before you fell into bed for four hours of sleep, or something to hold you over during a five-hour march.”

  Sara leaned back as the waiter took her plate and a waitress stepped in with their fish. “Twice, when I was waiting to be deployed, we were on air force bases. The air force had some amazing food. I have no idea why, but it was fantastic. Unfortunately, we were never there for very long.”

  She bit into her red snapper and moaned. Warrick took his own bite and grinned at her. “Told you so.”

  “You were right. It’s amazing.” She couldn’t help but close her eyes as the fish all but melted in her mouth.

  “Air Force good?” he asked with a laugh.

  “Ha! Okay, so the air force food wasn’t quite this good, but at the time it seemed like it. When we were deployed overseas, the food wasn’t too bad, I guess. It was worse the bigger the unit. It seemed like the more mouths to be fed, the worse the food got, which I guess makes sense.”

  “It does.”

  They ate in silence for a few minutes, and Sara was glad he didn’t ask more about her time overseas. It wasn’t something she talked much about, but it occurred to her how much easier it was to talk about a single aspect of it, like the food, than when people said things like, “tell me what it was like.” Warrick had never done that with her, and she liked it.

  From there, they talked about things as varied as moonrocks and water lilies, though she still wasn’t sure how those topics had surfaced. She told him about her brothers, who still protected her like she was fifteen anytime they got together. They lived in her hometown where her parents still were, so she only saw them on holidays. She talked to them every other week or more often, though.

  “Sara, Warrick. How’s the ankle?” Sara looked up to see Andrew and Jill smiling at them.

  Warrick stood and shook hands with Andrew and then Jill. “It’s much better. Back to normal, so you’ll have to get used to the idea of me saying no to any more basketball games, even if it does mean you guys win when you stick the other team with me.”

  Jill turned to Andrew. “Really?” Her tone and the look on her face said it all and Sara laughed as Andrew shrugged sheepishly.

  “Are you guys coming or going?” Warrick asked.

  “Going.” Andrew slid his arm around Jill’s waist.

  Now Jill looked sheepish. “It’s the first night we’ve had a babysitter in a long time but I’m too exhausted and not really feeling well.” She laid a hand on her stomach and Sara’s eyes narrowed in on the woman. She hadn’t realized it, but Jill was wearing a loose-fitting dress and when she ran her hand over the fabric, there was a small swell underneath.

  Sara’s eyes went wide and she stood, pulling Jill in for a hug. “Oh my gosh, are you really?”

  Tears filled Jill’s eyes as she nodded and Andrew beamed. “She cries at the drop of a hat nowadays.”

  “Fifteen weeks, today.” Jill’s excitement was plain. “We told family last week, but we’ve been waiting a little while to spread the news. You know.” She shrugged and Sara did know. Jill and Andrew had tried to get pregnant for a long time before adopting twins.

  “But how?” Sara asked, then laughed and raised her hand. “Stop, Andrew. I know you’re about to try to give me a birds and bees lecture.”

  They all laughed but Jill grinned at Sara. “He does know what you mean. And no one knows. The doctors didn’t have a real answer for us, and we didn’t care.”

  “And now it’s time to get her home to bed,” Andrew said. They said their goodbyes and the couple left as Sara and Warrick resettled into their seats.

  “So, what did I miss there?” Warrick asked. “Why is it surprising they’re having a baby? I thought they had two kids already.”

  “They do,” Sara said. “But the twins are adopted. They didn’t think Jill could get pregnant.”

  “Oh.” Warrick grabbed his drink and took a swallow.

  “You okay?” Sara asked, but Warrick only had time to nod before the waiter came to the table with a tray of desserts. Each one looked better than the last, and as he described them, Sara had to fight not to sigh in pleasure and order one of everything.

  They split dessert, sharing a decadent flourless chocolate cake, something she’d always loved.

  “So, when are you going to tell me what we were practicing tonight?” Sara asked after Warrick had signed the check.

  He took both of her hands in his. Both her natural hand and her prosthesis, lifting them from where they’d sat on the table. “It was about this,” he said.

  “I don’t get it.”

  He rubbed small circles over her right hand. “It was about you forgetting to put your prosthesis in your lap, or to use only your right hand unless you absolutely have to use both hands for something.”

  He let her puzzle over his statement as he stood, then pulled her up beside him. She didn’t say anything as they walked to the door of the restaurant, and she realized she didn’t have to. He was right. She’d forgotten all about her hand with him. As the night went on, it simply hadn’t been an issue. It was normally something that was right at the surface for her. She was always aware of it, aware of people’s impressions of it, of how it looked, how it might get in the way.

  She’d completely forgotten to worry about it at some point in the evening.

  Warrick pulled her right hand toward him, leaning over the table to kiss it. He followed by pulling her prosthesis toward him, leaning to kiss that, too. “Thank you for trusting me enough to forget it,” he said quietly, and she felt a thrill race through her at the low gruff tone.

  She was speechless, which was something she’d never experienced before. He didn’t wait for her reaction. He stood, pulled her chair out and led her out. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t walking maybe a tiny little bit on air.

  Warrick walked Sara into her apartment building, but forced himself to stop outside her door. He wanted to take her inside. No, scratch that. He all but needed to take her inside. To get his hands on her, to taste and touch
every inch of her. To hear her moan, to make her whimper with need. To fill her, bury himself inside her.

  But there was still a part of him that knew he wasn’t ready for that. People assumed he’d been so in love with Vicki that he mourned her to this day. His feelings for his wife were complicated. He was smart enough to realize there was a hell of a lot of guilt wrapped up in it. Yes, there was love. But the guilt was there, too. And that was a hell of a thing to get a handle on.

  But then Sara looked at him and everything but her faded away. She unlocked her door, before turning to smile up at him. He reached for her. There wasn’t any stopping it. Sara melted against him as he pulled her in to kiss her. His body roared to life in response. She did things to him he never thought any woman would again. He brought his hands to cup her face and turned to deepen the kiss, wanting to taste more of her. She tasted of wine and cinnamon somehow. She gripped his arms, and the response in his groin was damned near primal. He groaned against her mouth as her tongue flicked out to greet his.

  She was never passive, and he loved that about her. His heart slammed in his chest as she laced her hand around his neck and pulled him more tightly to her.

  He tore his mouth from her, knowing another minute of this and clothes would start to come off. He pressed his forehead to hers trying to give himself a moment to catch his breath.

  “I don’t think we’re practicing anymore,” he said.

  She moved her head back and forth. “No. This doesn’t feel like practice, does it?”

  “Are you scared?” he asked.

  “Terrified.”

  He put one hand behind her neck and pulled it in, eyes locked onto hers. “Don’t be. I’ve got you.”

  Thoughts of guilt were swept away as they moved into her apartment and he stripped her down. She was incredible. He couldn’t get enough of her as he worshipped with hands and mouth and tongue. As he whispered to her to let her know what she did to him. They moved together down the hall, his clothes coming off during the trip.

  She writhed beneath him, responding to the smallest of touches, pleading with him for more. Her eyes darkened, a storm of passion and heat, urging him on. Her body spoke to him in a thousand ways, and he wanted to answer each and every one of them. He wanted to give her everything she needed and so much more. He was losing himself in her, but there was finding happening also. He was finding a new version of himself within her.

  “Sara,” he whispered when he entered her, and she reached for him, pressing up to meet him, as she pulled him down to kiss her. He kissed her fully, deeply, feeling her clamp down around his cock as she came with a keening moan. He followed swiftly after her, feeling the release with every ounce of his being. It was a release in every sense of the word.

  Chapter 24

  Warrick returned from the bathroom where he’d taken care of the condom to find Sara sitting up in her bed, an oversized T-shirt covering her body. He could see from the look on her face, he wasn’t going to like where the conversation was headed. She chewed her bottom lip as she looked at him.

  Okay. He grabbed his pants and pulled them on, then sat next to her on the bed. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”

  “Is it okay if I’m not ready for an overnight?” She looked at his chest as she asked, but he tilted her face up to meet his.

  “I’m not going to push you for anything you’re not ready for, Sara,” he said. He had a feeling sleeping overnight in the same bed might be too much emotional connection for her. That it might be putting a little too much on the line.

  In all fairness, he knew in his heart if he spent the night here, he’d hold her and love her through the night. With his body, that is.

  But there would still be part of him he just didn’t have to give her. It wouldn’t be fair. He shoved the thought aside and kissed her, not wanting to face his own shortcomings.

  “It’s no problem, Sara. We’ll move at whatever pace you need to.” And we’ll stop all this before we get too close.

  Sara controlled the shaking until she walked Warrick to the door and kissed him goodnight. Then she went to the bedroom and stood, staring, at the bed. That’s when she let herself fall apart. Her hand trembled as she removed her prosthesis and stared down at the ugly stump at the end of her wrist. It was sore and a little swollen.

  He’d made her forget. In the restaurant, and even once they’d come back here. That in itself was incredible. She never thought she’d be with a man again.

  But, the truth was, she wasn’t ready to let him in completely. Doing that would mean so much more. Letting him between her legs was one thing. But there was no way she could let him into her heart.

  If she let him in, he’d eventually need to see her. All of her. After all, she couldn’t live in her prosthesis twenty-four-seven. The skin would break down and she’d end up with open sores in a matter of days.

  If he spent any amount of time at her place, he’d see that she needed a lot more modifications to her world than the robotic hand he saw her in each day. When she was home, she often had to go without her prosthesis, to let her arm have a break from the strain of having the machinery on. So, she required other tools in many parts of her world.

  She had a special fork that had a cutting edge on one side so she could cut her food one-handed. There was a cutting board with prongs that held onto a piece of bread or a vegetable so she could cut it. She had a clamp that held her toothbrush in place so she could put toothpaste on and another one to hold her hair dryer in place while she brushed her hair.

  He would catch on very quickly that she dealt with phantom pain more than anyone realized. She used mirror therapy to address a lot of it, but by the end of the day she’d feel sharp pains going up fingertips that weren’t there.

  That had begun shortly after they’d made love. He’d left the bed, and almost immediately, at a time when most people would be relaxed and weak from pleasure, she’d been edgy and tense, knowing she needed to address the pain before it got any worse.

  She sat at her vanity and pulled out the mirror she used for her therapy. She set it on the table, leaning it against her chest with an arm on either side of it. She focused on the mirror as her right hand went through stretching exercises and practiced movements. As she did it, her brain perceived her left hand making the same movements. It tricked the brain, somehow, and the pain began to ease.

  She had a feeling, though, that she would still need to take a sleeping pill to sleep. On nights like this, the tension in her body never seemed to subside, even when the pain went away. She’d let herself get too tired, and for her, overtired led to worse sleep.

  Sara felt a large tear fall and watched where it landed on the desk as she leaned over it, working her arm. It pissed her off even more. She hated feeling sorry for herself. It wasn’t who she was. But there were times she was almost too tired to fight it and she gave in and let herself throw a pity party. Now seemed like a good time. The first time she’d been with a man in years and she was going to need to knock herself out with a pill instead of falling asleep in his arms.

  She bit down on the inside of her cheek and twisted her wrists, moving the muscles of both her complete arm and her stump in tandem, feeling the fingers of both hands stretch as she flexed and wiggled them. For just a moment, in Warrick’s arms, she’d felt whole again.

  It was incredible the tricks the mind could play.

  Chapter 25

  Warrick tossed his keys on the side table in his entranceway and kicked off his shoes. He wouldn’t let the fact that Sara hadn’t wanted him to spend the night get to him. Hell, who would think the guy would be the one to get kicked out? The thought of it kind of made him laugh. It was supposed to be the man trying to run from the woman’s bed, wasn’t it?

  He had no problem respecting her wishes. He would never force her into something she wasn’t completely comfortable with. That didn’t mean his mind didn’t keep flashing back to the way their bodies felt tangled together, slick skin against slick
skin. Being with Sara had been a hell of a lot more than he thought it would be. A hell of a lot more than he deserved.

  He ignored the uncomfortable thought that he couldn’t be what she deserved. That he couldn’t give her any more than this. Not that he fully understood what this was. What he did know, though, was that things couldn’t go past this. Not with his track record of letting people down. He couldn’t give her more than friendship and sex.

  Damned good sex, as it turned out. Even now, he wanted her again.

  There was only one thing he could give her, and he would do all he could to make sure it happened. He could give her back her confidence. He could show her that only an asshole like her ex-fiancé would care whether she had one of her hands or not. He still couldn’t believe the guy had walked out on her while she was still in the hospital.

  She would never say it, but that had been a blow to her confidence. He would give her that back, and when it was time, he would leave her alone. He would let her move on to find somebody who could build a life with her. If anyone deserved it, Sara did. She deserved to have a family and a future with someone capable of giving love. Capable of receiving love.

  Warrick began to head to the bedroom but turned instead toward the patio. He frowned when he saw the rose bush.

  Shit. The leaves no longer had just a slightly yellowy tinge. Several had turned full-on yellow and the stalks of a few of the branches had turned black, almost like they were rotting from the inside out.

  The sorrow that coursed through him seemed almost silly in a way. But that didn’t make it hurt any less. He felt the familiar ache that came with letting someone down again. He backed up until his legs hit the couch, and sat, staring at the small plant. At least this time, he thought he’d done everything right. Everything he could for it. It didn’t change things, though, did it?