“I just wondered if I could maybe sit in your lap,” she asked, not looking at him, clearly embarrassed by the request. “You know, to share your body heat?”
Grover stilled. He’d struggled to keep his hands off her all evening. The first time she’d shivered, he’d wanted to pull her close to warm her up, but he thought that might be a bit much for her. They hadn’t talked about all of her experiences at the hands of Shahzada and his followers. He had no idea if she’d been sexually abused, as well as physically. So he hadn’t wanted to do anything that might bring back bad memories.
“Yeah. I told you it was stupid,” she said, moving away from him.
Shit. Grover had been lost in his head too long and she’d mistaken his silence for rejection. Moving quickly, he reached out and pulled her closer, then easily picked up Sierra and settled her on his lap.
She squirmed, attempting to climb off. “It’s okay, Grover. I’ll be okay over there.” She pointed to her right, toward a relatively clear patch of ground.
“And you’ll be even better here,” Grover told her. He wrapped his arms around her, surprised by how perfectly she fit against him. He scooted back a bit, holding Sierra on his lap, until he was leaning against a tree trunk. Rocks dug into his ass, his ribs protested, and he had a feeling his legs would be asleep in less than ten minutes, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t moving. No fucking way.
It took a minute or two, but eventually Sierra relaxed against him. He felt her muscles loosen as she gave him more of her weight. She’d had her back against his chest, but then she turned, resting her cheek on his pec and curling her legs up so she was almost on her side in his embrace.
“I was right. You are warm,” she said softly.
Grover felt her breath waft over his bare neck and knew he was a goner. This woman had him in the palm of her hand, and she had no idea. It made little sense, but he wasn’t about to question it. He’d held other women, yet hadn’t felt like this before. As if, should she disappear out of his life again, he’d lose something profoundly important.
“If I get too heavy, just move me,” she told him.
“You aren’t too heavy,” he said immediately.
“Tell me that after I gain back all the weight I lost and still buy another dozen Krispy Kreme cake doughnuts.”
Grover made a mental note to get his Bean some doughnuts, stat.
God…his Bean.
Shit.
“Thank you for finding me,” she whispered, and the words settled in his bones like a warm summer evening.
“You’re welcome,” he whispered back, the words feeling totally inadequate for what he was feeling inside.
Grover refused to burden her. As it had been pointed out tonight, she had her entire life ahead of her, and the last thing he wanted was to pressure her to be with him, if that wasn’t what she wanted. She’d just been freed from captivity after a year of abuse. He couldn’t take advantage of her vulnerability and her gratitude. He’d have to give her space to figure out what she wanted, in her own time.
It would suck, but Sierra immediately agreeing to come to Texas, only to decide it was a mistake, would be even worse.
He tightened his arms around her as she shifted, and once again he marveled at how well they fit. Resting his head on the tree trunk, Grover closed his eyes. He wouldn’t sleep, he was too keyed up and too attuned to the woman in his arms. But he’d rest. His ribs throbbed where Sierra lay against them and the cuts on his face burned, but he’d never been more content than he was right this moment.
He didn’t know what the future held, beyond knowing he’d do anything necessary to make Sierra comfortable. To make her feel safe. He’d also keep in touch with her once they got back to the States. Make sure she knew he wasn’t kidding about the invitation to come to Killeen.
He’d fallen fast, just as his teammates had. And if they could make things work with their women, so could he. It would just be a bit more of a challenge, wooing her long distance. She was worth the effort. Grover had no doubt about that.
Chapter Seven
Sierra’s mind spun. Intellectually, she’d known Delta Force teams were treated differently than regular Army soldiers, but she hadn’t expected to be on her way back to the United States so quickly. She figured there would be red tape, interviews she’d have to give about her experience, hours of briefing, and then she’d have to contact her employer and see how complicated it would be to get to an airport and out of Afghanistan. Not to mention her passport was long gone, along with her belongings.
But from the moment she’d woken up that morning, more rested than she’d been in a year, things had moved at warp speed.
She thought she’d felt Grover’s lips on her forehead, but by the time she’d opened her eyes, he’d merely been smiling down at her. They’d gotten up, eaten, then started walking along the river. They’d only had to walk about a mile—which was a good thing, since Sierra had started to think she wasn’t going to make it any farther than that. She’d lost so much muscle mass and she had zero energy. She would’ve been embarrassed about it, but Grover, and all of the other guys, had constantly reassured her that she was doing amazingly well. If she spent much more time with them, she’d get a big head for sure.
Then a huge, noisy helicopter had arrived. She was hauled up by a rope ladder, then watched as the seven men who’d rescued her came up. Within minutes, they’d landed in the middle of the military post Sierra had begun to think she’d never see again. She was greeted as if she were a long-lost relative. It was disconcerting how many strangers said they were so happy to see her.
She was shown to a tent and allowed to take a shower. That’s where time slowed briefly. Sierra knew she took way too long, used far more than her fair share of hot water, but nothing had ever felt better in her life. She’d wanted to stay in that shower and scrub herself for at least another half hour, but had instead gotten out reluctantly.
Grover had given her a set of Army BDUs to wear, the battle dress uniform that all the soldiers wore. She didn’t know where he’d gotten it from, or how he’d known what size might fit, but she accepted the clothes gratefully. For some reason, she still couldn’t get rid of the shirt she’d worn every day for the last year. It had been through hell, just like her, and it felt wrong to simply throw it away. So she packed it up, along with the pants Grover’s team had brought her and the toiletries someone had offered.
When she’d come out of the shower tent, Grover had been waiting. He’d taken her bag, grabbed hold of her hand, and walked toward what Sierra knew was the post general’s tent. She wondered briefly if he felt obligated to hold her hand; she didn’t see many people engaging in public displays of affection on the post, but she didn’t have time to wonder about it long.
She’d spent the next two hours telling the post general everything she could about Shahzada and his operation. Where she’d been held, how many captors there were, what names she could remember, and everything about the weapons she’d seen.
While he’d expressed sympathy over what had happened, it was obvious he was more concerned about finding out information on the Taliban’s influence in the town, so he could capitalize on Shahzada’s death. He also wasn’t happy with the fact that Shahzada had infiltrated the military base as a translator. The soldiers who worked on the base relied on the men who were hired to communicate with the townspeople. Knowing one of them had been gathering information to use against the post, and actively sowing discontent with the locals, was a bitter pill to swallow. A lot of changes would be coming to the post, and Sierra didn’t envy the general the upheaval Shahzada’s—aka Muhammad Qahhar’s—betrayal would continue to cause.