A Love Worth Living (14 page)

Gaze level and solid, he waited until she continued. “My dad—” she cleared her throat and swallowed, “—he died. When I was a senior in high school.”

“The year you were on independent study?”

Her eyes closed and hid the pain he’d only seen for a flash. “Yes.” All the fight had left her body. She lay there, limp against him. Resigned. “I killed him.”

His world froze. He held his breath and waited for the full story, holding back his wild imagination through sheer belief in Carrie.

“Not technically, but close enough. It was my fault.”

He exhaled and reached for her clenched fist. He pressed his lips to each knuckle until she opened her hand. Kisses to her palm followed and he dipped his tongue into each angry, red groove her nails had created.

“I was a selfish brat, and he was out…” she paused, and he watched her weigh her words, “…doing me a favor, because I couldn’t be bothered to do it myself.”

The omission from her story, whatever it was, sank heavily in the still bedroom air. When he didn’t press her, relief made her shoulders sag.

She squeezed his hand. “He was killed by a hit-and-run driver at eight in the morning. The guy was methed out of his mind, we eventually found out.”

Tremors ran through her body, and he pulled her closer, absorbing them, begging her to share her burden. “Afterwards, my mother kind of lost it. She was in and out of therapy, which didn’t do any good, and I was barely dealing with it.

“One of the forensics experts on the case started coming around regularly to update us on the case. Even after they found the guy responsible, he always found reasons to stop by and check on us. It had actually been the break in the case they needed to shut down the biggest meth lab in the county.”

She shrugged, and a reluctant smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “He was good for my mom, and me too. He was patient and got me interested in forensics, and we both know how that turned out.”

“Where is he now?”

Her smile grew. “Oh, probably with my mother. It took him a decade, but he wore her down eventually. Chris is a good guy.”

“If your mother’s anything like you, waiting a decade is nothing.”

The room went silent. Carrie didn’t breathe, didn’t move.

She continued like he’d never said anything. “Thanks for listening. I think the French toast yesterday triggered this one. Every Saturday, my dad made that for breakfast.”

“Then I’m glad I burned it.”

She buried her face in the crook of his arm. “Me too.”

“We’ll do something else for breakfast today.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “I thought I agreed to one day.” A smile played at the edges of her lips. “I don’t know if I can stand another day of vacation.”

David rolled her under his body, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. “Oh really? Good to know my company is so unbearable.”

“Like going to the dentist.” Her fingers combed through his hair. “I like your hair this long. It makes you look roguish.”

One hand skimmed down her side, running over her curves. She bucked against him when his thumb swiped across her nipple. “Don’t distract me with compliments. I’ve got plans for you today, Dr. Farrow.” He leaned in and waggled his eyebrows. “Evil plans.”

Her laughter erupted in the morning quiet. “I might need some convincing.”

He fumbled in his bedside drawer for a condom, sheathed himself, then positioned his cock at her entrance. With a flick of his hips, he dragged across her clit. She clawed at his arms and moaned.

He ground against her but refused the cant of her hips that begged for him to take her. She writhed, pressing onto his length, but he stopped her with a hand splayed across her abdomen. Her growls of frustration tugged at his patience, but as much as he wanted to drive himself into her, the delayed gratification would be worthwhile.

Instead, he ducked his head to nibble a trail from her earlobe, down her neck, then to the upper swell of her breast. She clutched his head close while he bit and sucked around her nipples.

“David, please!”

That’s what he wanted to hear. He flicked his tongue across one taut peak, and her shuddery exhale made pride rear in his chest. He laved her other nipple, giving it thorough attention before he leaned back took in the view.

Carrie sprawled across the pillows, her lust-dark eyes running over his body. “I need you now, David.”

While his thumb rubbed circles over her clit, he entered her and began a slow thrusting rhythm until she grabbed at his arms and pulled him down. This close, her every breath fanned across his chest, right over his heart.

She locked her legs around his back so tightly he could only grind against her. Her little sighs turned into a full-out moan as he rubbed across her clit with every undulation.

The pale expanse of her torso, dotted with scars, called to him. He nipped at the curve of her breast and her desperate cry made him do it again, harder.

The urge to mark her overtook him. His teeth sank into her tender flesh and Carrie went wild underneath him and dragged her nails across his back. He sucked at her skin and felt her clench around him in response.

“David—” Her words were lost in a keening cry and her body shook in his arms.

He laid a kiss on her lips then peeked at his handiwork. A red, bruised circle graced her breast, ringed in little teeth marks. He’d never been quite so animalistic in bed, but the sight of his mark on her made him crazy with need.

Carrie looked down, traced her thumb over the hickey, then gave him a wicked grin that ripped away his control. He bucked into her—once, twice—then groaned against the sweet curve of her neck as he came.

He rolled to the side and pulled her against himself while he caught his breath. Her fingers played with the hair on his chest. “If I spend another day with you, can we do more of that?”

“There’s one promise I’m happy to make. Is there anything else you’d like to do, or should we just stay in bed the whole day?” He gave his most lecherous smile and she laughed.

“Wednesday? I usually go shooting.”

Now it was his turn to clam up. “I forgot you had your firearms license.” He slid out of bed and headed for the closet while he swallowed his instinctive protest. He wanted to meet her needs during this week. “We could do that today.”

Silence met his words. He turned to look at her, and she was staring at him, curled around her bent knees. Hiding her body from him.

With a sigh, he returned to the bed and brushed aside the hair falling across her face.

“Carrie, look at me.”

Her wary eyes met his. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, baby. You didn’t.” He kissed her forehead and wrapped her up in a hug. “Do you need to go shooting today?”

“Need, no. But I’d feel better if I did.” She uncurled and got out of the bed. “I should go shower. I’ll pack up my guns and meet you back here in a bit.”

All the worry he’d shed yesterday rushed back in a deafening swarm. He wanted to haul her back onto the bed and lecture her about gun safety. Instead, he counted back from ten. “You keep guns in your condo?”

She buttoned up her jeans then turned to search for her shirt. “Where else would I keep them? I have a gun safe, though one of the pistols is unloaded in my bedside drawer, with a full clip in the other side’s drawer.”

Frustrated by her complete disregard for the danger of firearms in the house, he returned to the closet. If she wanted to start the day, he might as well join her. “Why the hell would you keep any gun out of your safe?”

Her scowl would have flayed a weaker man. “Judgmental much? I was attacked in Boston a couple of years ago, when I was on a really ugly serial-killer case.” She pulled apart the unbuttoned sides of her shirt to expose the long, jagged scar on her side that he’d wondered about since their first night together. “He only had a knife, which is why I’m here. I had
nothing
. My gun was locked away, safe and fucking useless.” She stalked across the room and got in his face. “If I’d had my gun, it would’ve saved me forty stitches and five days in the hospital.”

Relief at her safety dueled with his healthy wariness of guns. He let his jeans and tee-shirt drop to the floor and tugged her closer, until skin-on-skin contact sizzled throughout his body.

He’d fucked up this exchange, even though he knew better. Communication was supposed to be his thing, but here he was, blowing the conversations that mattered the most. With a heavy sigh, he conceded the point. “It’s good you can protect yourself.” With each breath he took, her warm body, alive and against his own, worked to loosen the knot of fear she incited in him. “And it looks like you’ve had to quite a bit.” He traced her exposed skin, his fingers finding scar after scar.

“Exactly.” She cupped his jaw, earnest curiosity in her furrowed brow. “Do guns bother you? Or is it just the way I keep mine?”

It was his turn to open up, but she didn’t need his baggage, not when this vacation was about her. “I’ve seen the fallout from too much violence to be comfortable with a weapon that makes it so easy. My concerns aren’t limited to you.”

“I’ll skip the range today.” He started to protest, but she kissed him quiet. “It’s not a big deal. I’ll just go next week. I want us to have fun today.”

He would have argued further, but he was still savoring the kiss she’d willingly initiated, however fleetingly—not because of lust or fear or stress, but because he’d needed the comfort.

“I’m going to go get ready. I’ll see you in a bit.” She gave him one more kiss and headed for the door. The sway of her body drew every bit of his attention.

So he was in love with a gun-wielding, danger-seeking woman with an ugly past. At least her mother had already set the waiting period at ten years. Maybe the odds were stacked in his favor.

Chapter Sixteen

As promised, she returned a short while later, showered and dressed. His mind flashed to Carrie naked, with water sluicing down her body. He’d trap her against the cool tile of his shower and make her scream his name before he lost himself in her tight, hot core. The same thoughts had tortured him during his own quick, cold shower.

“David?” She interrupted his thoughts, her knowing grin a commentary on his obvious lust for her. “What’s the plan for today?”

“Let’s start with morning fuel and go from there. I know a great place nearby—coffee and bagels okay?”

“Sure.” She pivoted toward the door, but he caught her arm before she could step away. “Thank you for confiding in me.” He kissed her neck and soaked in her resulting shiver. “And for not running after last night.”

Now her back tightened.

“No, don’t be like that.” He rubbed a hand across her tense shoulders. “I’m not going to say another word about it. I just didn’t want us to start the day without some kind of closure on it.”

She nodded. He caressed her body with his eyes, taking in her outfit of jeans and a tee-shirt. The more casual look suited her.

In the office, she was always in some variation of a navy pantsuit. In the field, she almost always had on a full jumpsuit. Today, the tight jeans outlined her slim legs and the cheerful yellow tee-shirt draped enough to hint at her curves without putting them on display. She’d gathered her hair back in a clip so the waves fell down her back. Her exposed neck begged for his lips.

Last night had barely taken the edge off his hunger for her, and if he thought it would reinvigorate her any faster than going out and living, he’d keep her in his bed all day. But Carrie was an observer of human nature to her core. She needed the reminder that humans weren’t all ugly and violent. All she’d let herself experience of late, outside of the office and reality TV, was the ugly aftermath of crime.

So while he was a firm believer in sex “therapy” with Carrie, she needed something more. “Off we go then.”

What would have been a leisurely walk to the bagel shop turned into a test of his determination when Carrie slipped her hand into his. Even when she wanted to keep herself isolated, she couldn’t stop seeking human connection.

He didn’t say a word about it. Instead, he kept up a stream of mundane conversation as they walked, ordered their bagels and coffee, and ate.

On the walk back, their hands tangled together, easy and comfortable. Hope welled in him like a tangible thing.

They’d just crossed the last street back to their condo when Carrie broke the warm silence. “I think I’ve eaten more in the past two days than I usually do in a week.”

“That’s kind of the point, Care. You don’t eat enough.” At the door to the building, he slipped his hands onto her jutting hipbones. Pangs of worry arced through him. “Lie and tell me you don’t have less energy than you used to.”

Her defiant look melted and her head slumped. “All I could see in Rwanda was the work. It didn’t make the meals appetizing—and the food was pretty unappealing to begin with.” She shrugged and her words were almost caught in the noise from the street. “I didn’t have you there to make sure I ate.”

His heart tripped over itself.

Though his initial reaction was to use this point to convince her to see a future with him, she wasn’t ready to think about forever yet. Instead, he kept it light. “Well, I guess you’d better soak it in this week.”