Wrapping her arm around his waist, and not surprised when she didn’t feel an ounce of fat under her hand, Gillian nodded. She stumbled alongside Walker as he led her out of the restaurant and into the parking lot. He helped her into his Chevy Blazer and even reached across her to snap her seat belt into place. But instead of backing up and shutting her door, he stayed in her personal space.
“What’s wrong?” she asked nervously.
“Nothing,” he said. “I’m just memorizing this moment.”
Gillian frowned. “What moment?”
“This one.” Then he lifted his hand to the side of her neck, turning her head toward him. He leaned forward, giving her time to reject his advance.
But there was no way in hell Gillian was going to reject anything this man wanted to give her. She leaned toward him, reaching out and grabbing hold of his bicep with her right hand.
Walker’s lips brushed against hers gently. Once. Twice. Teasing little touches that made Gillian’s toes curl. His tongue came out and licked her bottom lip, before he pressed his lips against hers once more.
As far as kisses went, it was chaste and way too short…but it was the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for her.
Walker rested his forehead against hers, and she could feel his warm breaths against her skin.
“Thank you,” he said softly.
“For what?”
“For giving me a second chance,” he said simply. Then he brushed his thumb against her cheek once and pulled back. He shut her door and walked around the front of the vehicle. He climbed in on the driver’s side and started the engine. Putting one arm on the seat back, he twisted to look behind him before backing out of the parking space and heading out onto the road.
“That kiss was amazing,” Gillian told him, her filter obliterated by the amount of alcohol she’d consumed.
“Agreed,” Walker said with a smile.
“But I want more.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m happy to give you exactly what you want…when you’re not three sheets to the wind.”
Gillian frowned. “I know what I’m doing. I’ve never dranken so much that I can’t remember.”
“Dranken?” he asked with a laugh.
“Drunken, drunk, drank, whatever,” Gillian said.
“Be that as it may,” Walker said, “I’ve never taken advantage of a woman before, and I’m not about to start now.”
Gillian pouted. “Not even if she wants you to?”
Walker laughed loud and long. Gillian was fascinated. She never would’ve guessed that he was a man to let go like that. She found herself smiling in return. Then she sobered. “This is weird. Is this weird?”
“No,” Walker said immediately.
“It is,” Gillian said. “I mean, we don’t know each other, not really. And you saved me from being carted off on a plane to some drug lord’s hideaway and being horribly abused and maybe forcibly addicted to drugs. And you killed people for me. Shot them! POW! Right in the head. And I got brains and ick on me. I looked like shit when we met. I hadn’t showered in forever and smelled horrible. And even though I know it wasn’t appropriate at the time, I couldn’t help but wonder what you looked like without any clothes on. That’s messed up, Walker. And how can I feel like I know you, when I really don’t?”
“The first time I heard your voice, I got hard,” Walker said matter-of-factly.
Gillian stared at him with wide eyes as he went on. “It was so inappropriate. You were a hostage and scared out of your mind. You said, ‘I’m here’ and ‘I’m okay.’ And that was that. I fell hard. I volunteered to bring that food out to the plane just so I could get a look at the woman who’d impressed the hell out of me, and who’d made me feel more just with her words than I had in any serious relationship I’d been in before. If this is weird, then I’m okay with that.”
“Walker,” Gillian whispered.
He reached over and took her hand in his own. “Close your eyes, Di. I’ll get you home safe and sound.”
“I know,” she sighed, and did as he ordered.
The entire car was spinning as if it was in the middle of an F5 tornado. It had been a long time since she’d had as much to drink as she had tonight. She’d started out the night depressed and sad, and somehow here she was…sitting next to Walker, who was taking care of her and making sure she got home all right.
Was this really her life?
Forty-five minutes later, Trigger was staring down at a sleeping—or passed out—Gillian. He’d gotten her into her apartment and shoved a T-shirt he’d found in her drawers in her hands and pointed her to the bathroom. He hoped like hell she’d be able to stay awake long enough to change, because he wasn’t sure he’d survive if he had to strip off her jeans and shirt.
He’d been staring at her luscious tits the entire way home; her shirt had gaped just a bit, showing him a slice of creamy, luscious skin that he wanted to lick and taste. But she’d managed to put on the T-shirt, and while it covered her cleavage, it left her long legs bare. He had no idea if she was wearing underwear or not, and he closed his eyes as she climbed under her covers.
“Just push the button on the knob when you leave. It’ll lock behind you,” she slurred as she closed her eyes and hugged a pillow to her chest.
Trigger hadn’t answered. He didn’t like the thought of her only defense from someone who wanted to break in being a flimsy lock on a doorknob. Leaning over her, he inhaled deeply, and was rewarded with the smell of honeysuckle once more. Deciding the scent was coming from her hair, he lifted a strand and brought it to his nose. Yup…definitely her shampoo.
Gillian stirred under him, and Trigger dropped her hair and stood. Jesus, he was hovering over her like some kind of pervert. She coughed, and he tensed until she calmed once more.
She was hammered. He couldn’t leave her. What if she puked in bed? If she choked? He had to stay for her own safety.
Trigger knew he was being ridiculous, but he couldn’t make himself leave. He headed to the front door and threw the deadbolt and engaged the chain, along with twisting the little lock on the doorknob. Then he grabbed a chair from the small table in her kitchen and brought it back into her bedroom. He placed it on the other side of the room from the bed, and sat down slowly. He had a perfect vantage point of both Gillian and the living area of the apartment.
He had no idea if the seventh hijacker would decide to come for Gillian for some reason, but he’d be there if he did…at least for tonight.
Knowing he wasn’t going to make it to PT in the morning—for the first time in his career—Trigger pulled out his phone and sent Brain a text.
Trigger: Something came up. I won’t be in for PT in the am.
His friend immediately responded.
Brain: You okay?
Trigger: Yeah.
Brain: Gillian?
Trigger: She had too much to drink. I’m making sure she’s okay. Will be in later.