But one thing was certain—he now truly understood that two people who loved each other could disagree and work through their anger and issues without handling things the way his parents did.
His arms tightened and she stirred, blinking as her beautiful eyes focused on him. Neither spoke as their gazes held each other. They lifted their hands at the same time, his to brush her soft hair back from her face and hers to rest on his jaw.
“I’m okay,” she stated softly.
“I know, but that doesn’t keep me from being scared about what happened or terrified about what could have happened.”
“I’m sorry we argued.” Her fingers traced his morning stubble.
“I was just thinking that you’ve taught me a valuable lesson.” Seeing her lifted brows, he explained, “My parents’ nasty arguments were the only thing I knew about a couple’s disagreements. Name-calling, belittling, screaming, door slamming, throwing things. When you and I first became angry, honest to God, I felt ill. More nervous than any mission I’ve ever been on. But you’ve shown me that we can stick to the issue, express our opinions and concerns, and come out stronger on the other side.”
They held each other, soft kisses and murmured words of comfort moving between them until the sunlight brightened the room a little more. Finally, her stomach growled, and she blushed.
“I need to feed you, babe,” he said, his eyes dropping to her breasts as she stretched. He then tamped down the lust that always speared through him at the sight of her body. “Hell, I need to feed both of us.”
“I don’t want you to do everything, but I’m desperate for a shower. Will you wait and let me help with breakfast after I get cleaned up?”
“How about we shower together?”
She inhaled quickly and her eyes flared. “Oh, yeah…”
By the time they had stripped, the water in the shower had heated. She had peeled off the small bandage, exposing her cheek. The cut was small but combined with several other tiny cuts dotting the side of her neck and shoulder, and he hated each one.
Ignoring his body’s response to her beautiful nudity, he lathered the body wash in his hands and gently smoothed it over her shoulders, back, and legs before turning her gently and sudsing her neck. As his hands glided down her chest and around her breasts, her eyes closed and her head fell back. A smile curved her lips as she clung to his shoulders, and he continued to lap her breasts, his thumb sweeping over her nipples.
Determined to finish his task without distraction, his hands glided over her tummy. Suddenly, her fingers tightened, and her eyes flew open. Gasping in air amidst a giggle, she squirmed backward.
“How did I not know you were ticklish?”
“Because you’ve never done that before!” She had nowhere to go in the shower, and as his hands moved forward again, her eyes widened.
“I’ll avoid your tummy—for now.” He continued to wash her arms, letting the warm water from the shower help soothe her tight muscles. Well acquainted with adrenaline rushes, he knew they could make someone feel invincible, and then later the aches and pains would come slamming in full-force.
By now, her head tilted back and her hair was slicked away from her face. Taking the shampoo, he carefully lathered her long tresses, making sure there were no tiny shards of glass hiding in the thick strands. Lastly, his thumb swept over her cheeks, wiping away the last vestiges of dried blood drops. “If you want to go ahead and step out and start drying, I’ll be out in a minute,” he offered.
Her blue-green eyes stared up at him, and her lips curved into a smile again. Shaking her head, she said, “No way I’m leaving you. You have me feeling wonderful. Now it’s your turn.”
Before he could claim that she didn’t need to wash him, she leaned forward and kissed the middle of his chest. The delicate touch shot straight to his cock.
His gaze zeroed in on the cut on her cheek and it was as though he’d been doused in cold water. “While I’m tempted to take you in here, shower sex is for when you’re feeling your best, not recovering from an accident.”
With that proclamation, he flipped off the now-cooling water and carried her to the thick, warm floor mat. Grabbing a towel, he began to dry her body carefully.
She lifted her head and peered at him, a smile on her face. He kissed her soundly, his tongue gliding over hers, his fingers running through her wet hair. Finally, mumbling against her lips, he asked “Are you okay, babe?”
“Yeah,” she breathed, still smiling. “Now, you can feed me.”
He barked out a laugh. “I’ll get right on that.” He quickly showered and walked out of the bathroom to find her in his large T-shirt once again. She’d snagged her panties, and the thought hit him that she needed to start leaving some clothes at his place. Deciding to wait until later to bring that up, he pulled on his boxers and jeans.
Once in the kitchen, they worked together scrambling eggs, frying bacon, and cooking french toast. The scent of coffee filled the air, and they soon settled at his table to eat.
The only sounds heard for a few minutes were the click of the forks on the plates and the “mmm” sounds emitted from Christina. “You remembered this is my favorite,” she said, wiping the syrup from the French toast off her lips.
He tried to tell his cock that she was enthusiastic about breakfast but the reminder of the little sounds she made during sex was a distraction. Looking down at his now-empty plate, he wasn’t sure he remembered actually tasting his food.
Pushing her plate back, she captured his gaze and cocked her head to the side. “We need to talk, sweetie. The band? Investigating? I know things were intense last night, but Clay, I want to know what’s going on.” Before he had a chance to speak, she threw her hand up and quickly added, “And don’t give me any Lighthouse-I-can’t-talk-about-it lines. Maybe the other women can deal, but I can’t. You’ve got to at least explain what’s going on that affects me.”
“Okay.”
She blinked, her head still cocked to the side. “Okay?”
“Yeah, okay. You’re right, I won’t talk about missions that don’t have anything to do with you. But since some recent developments have come to light and you’re involved on the periphery, I will at least explain what I can.”
She slumped back in her chair, seeming surprised at his acquiescence. He stood and picked up the plates, setting them in the sink. Returning to the table, he held out his hand, pleased when she placed hers in his. He guided them to the sofa, settling them on the cushions, wanting her to be comfortable. In truth, it also gave him a chance to organize his thoughts.
He reached across and held her hand, linking their fingers, craving the simplest physical connection with her. Lifting his gaze to her face, he beheld her trust and his chest eased slightly. Taking a deep breath, he began.
“When I first saw you playing with Amhrán M'anama, I was totally captivated by you. Your dancing, your music, your talent… everything about you. As good as the band was, you were the song of my soul.”
Her fingers flexed and her breath hitched, but she remained quiet.
“I wanted to make sure you were safe, but I didn’t worry about the others until…” The inner battle was real, still grappling with how much to tell her. Closing his eyes for a second, he pulled on his memories of Mace and the other Keepers when working to keep their loved ones safe. Sucking in a deep breath through his nose, he let it out slowly, opening his eyes, allowing his gaze to fixate on Christina’s beautiful face. “Until the band ended up on the periphery of one of my investigations.”