Fight for Her (7 page)

“Are you still close to them?” she’d asked.

“No.”

His whole body had grown tense and still, and his expression turned very cold and guarded in a way that she hadn’t expected.

Krista had instantly changed topics, bringing up her own dad, and how she’d tormented him for years by constantly using his precious hairbrush and misplacing it afterwards. “He would walk around the house ranting and raving about it,” Krista had said, and Gunner had begun laughing.

That had been the only really tense moment of the day, and she’d been smart enough to change course before anything got out of control.

***

Gunner cleaned up after dinner, washed the dishes, put everything away.

Just as he was drying his hands, Krista’s phone went off. He glanced over at her, as she pulled her cell phone out of her purse and looked at it.

Drew Ellis was calling.

She debated whether to answer or not, but Gunner was within earshot, so instead she just put it through to voicemail.

“Don’t feel like talking?” Gunner asked, as he tossed the dishcloth onto the rack beside the sink.

“I’m getting tired,” she said, which was true. She’d used up her reservoir of adrenaline and was now crashing pretty hard.

“You don’t have a boyfriend or anything, do you?”

She looked at him, trying to gauge why he was asking. “No, I don’t.”

He nodded. “I just thought…I don’t know…if that was your boyfriend calling, you could answer. I don’t mind.”

“Well, it wasn’t my boyfriend because I don’t have one.” She smiled at him.

“What about you, Gunner?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend either.”

“Very funny.”

He walked slowly back to the couch and sat on the edge of it, looking down at her. “Why don’t you have one?” he said.

She sighed. She wanted to know why he was asking—was it because he was interested, or was he just digging for more information?

“I guess things just haven’t really lined up the right way,” Krista answered.

“That’s kind of vague.” His brown eyes studied her. “I’m betting that guys have pursued you.”

“Yeah, a few.” She looked at him. A thrill went through her body. She became suddenly aware of just how alone they were, how isolated. And how close he was to her.

She had the afghan wrapped around her legs and she was curled up on the couch as they talked.

“But you’re not interested in being in a relationship right now or what?” he pressed.

She thought about what the truthful answer was. She hated that everything seemed to revolve around lies. He thought that she was a student in grad school, but in reality her life seemed to revolve around this new job and trying to prove herself.

And basically she wasn’t dating anyone currently because she’d been waiting for someone who actually cared about her, rather than some guy who just wanted to have a good time. In Vegas, that was a pretty tall order.

“I guess I haven’t found the right one yet,” she shrugged.

“Lame answer, Krista.”

“That’s the real answer, Gunner.” She smirked at him.

“I doubt it.”

“What about you, huh?” She sat up a little bit and tried to stare him down, but his dark eyes didn’t waver one bit.

“What about me?”

“Are you seeing anyone?”

He folded his arms, and each bicep expanded like a python. “No, I’m not.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” he said, “I found that I couldn’t trust any of the women I met in Las Vegas.”

That comment hit home like an arrow to her chest. She felt it physically, a blow that nearly knocked her backwards. Her smile faded. “That makes sense,” she muttered softly.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his brow creasing.

She put a hand to her head. “I just got a bit of a headache.”

“Look, it’s been a long day,” he said, standing up now. “Why don’t you go to bed?”

“I’ll stay on the couch.”

“No, Krista. Come on, you can stay in my bed and I’ll crash out here.”

She felt awful. He was being amazing to her, and here she was continuing to lie and lie and lie. It just wasn’t right. But how could she possibly come clean to him now, after so many lies?

Her head really had begun to pound.

Gunner showed her to his room, which was small and sparse and relatively neat.

There was a bed that was large enough for Gunner to sleep in it, a dresser, and a large chest in the corner of the room.

“Come on, lie down,” he urged her.

“I don’t even have a change of clothes,” she whined. She felt like a little kid—

cranky, wounded, upset. She wanted vaguely to throw a tantrum. She wanted to cry and stomp her feet.

“I’ll give you a t-shirt, and my clothes are big enough that it should do nicely as a nightgown.”

“Okay,” she said, falling into bed and crawling up towards the pillow. She was so tired and mentally worn down that she didn’t even care anymore if Gunner thought she was being silly.

The bed smelled like Gunner, and she really liked that. She smiled a little, snuggling into his pillow, grateful that he was letting her sleep there after all.

Gunner rummaged through his dresser drawers and found a t-shirt, tossing it next to her on the bed. “You can wear that for tonight,” he told her.

“Thank you,” she sighed. “Thanks for everything, Gunner. You amaze me.”

He laughed. “Okay. Get some rest, now.”

“I’m going to.”

He chuckled again, leaving the room and closing the door.

It was mostly dark now, but Krista could hear him moving around in the cabin, and it made her feel safe and comforted. Although she was completely spent, she pulled off her clothes and slid on his t-shirt.

The t-shirt made her feel even closer to him. She was completely bare underneath it, and she wrapped herself in his blankets and pressed her face into his pillow, wishing that he could be here with her, holding her close as she fell asleep.

***

Someone was yelling outside.

Krista startled awake, her heart pounding, the darkness of the bedroom confusing her momentarily.

An overwhelming sense of fear took hold of her body and she almost screamed.

But then she remembered where she was, and her heartbeat slowed a fraction.

Still, the moaning and yelling continued just outside the bedroom door. It wasn’t very loud after all. Was it his computer or something? Was he watching television?

She realized that she didn’t actually know this man very well. What if something was actually wrong with him…mentally?

Krista got out of bed and padded slowly to the door, opening it ever so quietly, and peering out into the rest of the cabin.

It was very dim, but some light was coming in from the moon and stars through the cabin windows—just enough for her to make out the shapes of the furniture.

Nobody was up and about.

And then came the yelling again. It was Gunner, she realized. He was on the couch, thrashing around in his sleep. She could tell he was having some kind of horrible nightmare.

His screams weren’t full throated, but almost seemed to be coming from a distance. They were clearly the screams of someone experiencing awful, horrible dreams.

She walked slowly over to the couch. As Krista’s eyes adjusted further to the room, she saw that Gunner was only wearing his boxers. His body was even more incredible than she’d thought from seeing him without his shirt on. Every muscle was toned and tight and perfect.

But even as her eyes took in his magnificence, she was still worried by his tossing and turning and moaning.

She wasn’t sure whether to simply let him continue sleeping, or if she should try and wake him.

After a few more seconds, he seemed to calm down and grow still and peaceful.

But then, out of nowhere, he started shouting worse than ever, and his arms were pushing at the couch.

She couldn’t let him go on like that.

Krista walked around the couch and knelt down beside him. “Gunner,” she whispered. “Gunner, wake up.”

He was still crying out in his sleep. Krista was unsure of the right way to handle it—she’d heard it was bad to wake sleepwalkers—but then again, he wasn’t sleepwalking, just having a nightmare.

She put her hands on his back and tried to soothe him. His back was warm and she felt a little sense of vertigo touching his naked skin this way.

“It’s okay,” she said softly.

Suddenly, he spun around and his eyes snapped open, his hand reaching up and grabbing her wrist with catlike reflexes. “What the hell are you doing?” he hissed.

She cried out in surprise and tried to jump away from him, but he was still holding her wrist, not letting go. “Stop it, Gunner.”

He sat up on the couch. “Why were you touching me?” His voice was flat and accusing.

“You were having a nightmare and I was worried. Let go of me!” She yanked her hand away, but he let go first, otherwise she never could have gotten free.

She quickly moved away from him, putting distance between herself and the couch. She went into the bedroom and shut the door, putting her back against it. She felt afraid. His eyes had been completely dead—cold and dead.

The way he’d looked at her when he’d first woken up—it was chilling.

Slowly, she started to feel less afraid. She heard his footsteps going to the bathroom and then, a moment later, the water running. Not long after that, he came out and she heard his footsteps crossing to the bedroom. He knocked on the door, causing her to jump.

“Leave me alone, Gunner,” she said. It occurred to her that a man as strong as Gunner could open the door just as easily with her trying to hold it shut. She would hold him off about as well as a fly trying to hold back a raging bull.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he said through the door.

“Then you shouldn’t have grabbed my wrist and yelled at me.”

“Krista…let me explain.”

“I don’t need any explanations,” she said. “Let’s just go back to sleep and pretend it never happened.”

“We both know it happened, and you deserve an explanation.”

She sighed. This was ridiculous. But she had to admit that she wanted to see him. She wanted to be closer to him, to look at his body again. Her nipples suddenly tightened against the fabric of Gunner’s t-shirt that she was wearing.

As she opened the door and saw him standing in just his boxer shorts, only inches away from her, Krista felt the very air shift between them.

His expression was filled with intense need.

“What did you want to tell me?” she said, trying to control her voice.

“I wanted to explain to you why I reacted that way when you woke me up just now.” His voice was husky, throaty. She saw that his hair was tousled, but he still looked as gorgeous as ever.

They locked eyes, and this time, there was no mistaking the connection. “I’m listening,” she told him.

“You remember when we were talking about our families, and how it was growing up,” he said.

“Yes.”

His jaw tightened. “Well, my family was different than I made it out to be. It wasn’t just me fighting my older siblings—typical kids stuff. It was my dad.” He took a deep breath and let it out. “He was really unpredictable, and he liked to drink. For some reason, when he got to drinking, I was the one he really seemed to get pissed off at. I couldn’t ever do anything right.”

Krista swallowed hard, a sense of doom washing over her as she listened to him.

She wanted to tell him to stop, to hug him to her, anything to not have to hear what came next.

Gunner’s eyes grew distant as he continued. “When my dad was on a bender, he would grab whoever was closest and just beat the hell out of them. And he was a big guy, too. When we were little, he’d slap us around, throw us, that sort of thing. The older we got, the harder he went on us. By the time I was twelve or thirteen and hitting my growth spurt, he seemed to take an interest in getting me the most. And he started to use his fists.”

“Gunner, that’s horrible,” she whispered.

“Finally, I put a stop to it when I was fifteen. I was the same size as him by then, and I’d gotten tired of it. More tired than you could imagine.” Gunner looked down at his hands as if studying them. “He came at me one night, and I just grabbed him by the throat and started to squeeze and squeeze. My brothers had to pull me off of him because he was starting to turn blue. I lost it completely. My father was lying on the floor, catching his breath, and I told him if he ever touched me again I’d kill him.”

Krista literally felt sick to her stomach. “You shouldn’t carry any guilt for that, Gunner. He’s the one who’s responsible.”

“I’m not saying I carry guilt,” he told her, his eyes refocusing on her now. “But I still have the dreams. In my dreams, I’m little again and he’s bigger than ever. I can’t stop him. And it just goes on and on and on. So when you woke me up, I wasn’t in my right state of mind. You understand?”

She nodded, and found that it was true—she did understand. She reached out and put a hand on his arm, because something told her it was what he needed. “I’m glad you told me.”

His eyes were trained on her, and she found that now she wasn’t afraid to look right back at him.

He reached his hand out and softly touched her cheek, and it was like a thunderbolt hit her. She felt a little woozy from the intensity of it, and the strong surge of emotion she felt in reaction to that slight touch from his hand.

“Krista,” he said, and her name sounded so sexy on his lips. “Why did you have to be so beautiful?”

She sighed, breathing out, as Gunner slowly leaned in and brought his lips to hers.

His kiss was gentle at first, probing, like a question. She could tell, without him saying anything—he wanted to be sure that the feeling was mutual.

Krista showed him by kissing him back, opening her mouth and allowing his tongue inside, parting her lips.

She moaned as he kissed her more deeply still. She could feel him wanting her more strongly, could feel the need radiating off of him like heat. It was heat.

His skin touched hers and it was burning with fire, his flesh was such a turn on when it pressed against hers that she immediately wanted to cry out, her legs and hips twitching in anticipation.