“I’m not hungry.”
“I know, but you need to eat.”
For a second, she looked like she was going to argue with him, but in the end, she just nodded and headed down the hall. He hated how her shoulders were slumped and she looked as if she’d just gone ten rounds in a boxing ring.
He gave her twenty minutes—the longest twenty minutes of his life—before following her. He had a bowl of her favorite chicken fajita soup and two of the breadsticks she always raved about. They were soft and buttery, and would give her a needed boost of energy.
She was lying on her side on her bed with her back to the door. Trigger put the food down and sat on the edge of the mattress. He put one hand on her thigh and waited for her to acknowledge him. He knew she was awake because she’d stiffened when he’d sat down so she wouldn’t roll into him.
With the patience he’d learned in his Delta training, Trigger waited. Finally, she rolled over and stared up at him.
“You all right?” he asked softly.
She nodded. “Yeah. I just…it was a lot.”
“I’m sorry, Di. I should’ve been there with you.”
“You weren’t allowed. It’s okay.”
Trigger shook his head. “It’s not okay. If I was there, I could’ve made them let you take some breaks. Warned them when they were pushing too hard—and don’t deny it. They pushed you hard.”
She gave him a small nod. “But they needed to. If they’re going to catch this guy, they need to know—”
“Uh-uh,” he said with a shake of his head. “If they’re going to catch this guy, then they need to investigate…not push innocent women past their breaking points for information that won’t make a lick of difference.”
Gillian stared up at him. “So you’re saying you think what I told them was pointless?”
“No, not at all,” Trigger said firmly. “I know your interview gave them a more well-rounded idea of each and every passenger. You’re observant and smart; whatever you told them was absolutely useful. But there was no point in pushing you until you were practically comatose to get it. I’m sure they already have their suspicions about who the seventh hijacker is. They were just using interrogation tricks to see what they could get out of you.”
Gillian closed her eyes. “I wish you were there too,” she said. Her eyes opened. “But it’s done.”
“If you want to talk about it, I’m here,” Trigger told her.
“Thanks,” she whispered. “I mean, I’ve already told you most of what I told them. I just don’t like thinking that someone I thought I’d shared this awful experience with might be in on the whole thing. It makes me sick.”
“Come on. Sit up and eat something. It’ll make you feel better. Then we can watch TV together the rest of the afternoon. I’ll run you a bath tonight and by morning, you’ll feel like yourself again.”
Gillian smiled at him and scooted up until her back was against the headboard. While she started in on her lunch, Trigger went back out to the other room to get her the present he’d found for her that week.
He held the small box in his hand as he sat back down.
“What’s that?”
“Open it and see,” he said. “I saw it and thought of you.”
Trigger loved seeing the spark of life in her eyes. He hated seeing her so beaten down, and if a little gift was enough to make her smile, he’d make it his goal in life to buy her a million tchotchkes to make that smile permanent.
She opened the box and pulled out the mug that was inside. Grinning, she said, “I like it.”
“Told you it reminded me of you,” Trigger said. The blue mug had pictures of a cartoon Wonder Woman all over it. She was leaping, running, using her bracelets to deflect bullets, and generally being kick-ass.
“I’m not feeling very Wonder-Woman-like at the moment,” she admitted.
“You’ll get there,” Trigger said without hesitation. “You’re human. You’re allowed to feel how you feel. You’re still one of the strongest people I know.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Now, hurry up and finish so we can go out and watch Luther.”
“You’re addicted to that show,” she said while chuckling.
“And you aren’t?” he asked.
She merely grinned.
Hours later, Gillian already felt more like herself. Lunch had done wonders to elevate her mood, then sitting on the couch being lazy with Walker for the rest of the day had finished the job. Yeah, she’d had a hard morning, mentally, but it was over and done with, and she needed to pull her head out of her ass and get on with her life.
It was Thursday, and Walker was spending the night, and Gillian was determined to have him sleep in the bed with her. In all the nights they’d slept together—slept-slept, nothing more—they’d always done it on a couch, his or hers. He’d never moved them to a bedroom. And while Gillian loved waking up in his arms, she wanted to do so in her bed.
After they’d made spaghetti for dinner, laughing throughout the preparation, and before watching more episodes of Luther, she’d changed into her sleep shorts and top. It was the first time she’d actually put on a pair of pajamas before snuggling with Walker on the couch. Oh, she’d worn leggings, and a T-shirt without a bra, but this was different. The sleep shorts were short, and the top was sleeveless. She felt sexy in the outfit and wanted nothing more than to entice Walker into giving her a few kisses and hold her all night.
He looked like he’d swallowed something sour when she’d come back into the living area after changing, which wasn’t exactly encouraging. And when he hadn’t immediately pulled her into his side after she sat down, Gillian began to worry that she’d messed up somehow. After he’d been so attentive and concerned about her earlier, she’d thought for sure this was the perfect time to move their relationship forward.
But now Walker sat stiffly on the other end of the couch watching the television screen as if it was the most fascinating thing in the world. It was disheartening.
Wanting to be the brave, kick-ass woman he’d nicknamed her after, Gillian decided to go for what she wanted.
“Walker?”
“Hmmm?” he asked, not looking at her.
“Are you all right?”
“Yeah, why?”
At least he’d turned to look at her. “Because ever since I changed, you’ve been avoiding looking at me as if you’ll get the plague if you even glance over here.”
He sighed. “It’s not you.”
Oh, shit, she didn’t like the sound of that. “What do you mean?”
“You’ve had a hard day…maybe you should turn in early.”
Gillian could only stare at Walker in disbelief. Had he really said that?
Yeah, he had.
So much for her feeling good about herself and confident in the relationship they’d been building.
She’d never felt so confused. Walker had pampered her and treated her as if she was the most precious thing in his life all day. And the second she’d changed into something a little more revealing—it wasn’t as if she’d put on a sexy teddy or anything; she was wearing shorts and a tank top—he’d frozen solid and was desperately trying to pretend she wasn’t even there.