Page 35 of D-Day

That’s when she realized that he must do this all the time. Had he been shoving all his feelings, all his personal problems so hard to the back of his mind that drinking, fighting, and working himself to death in the weight room allowed him to operate?That was a cocktail of impending disaster. No one could do that and not implode or explode or both.

“Ah, darlin’, I wish you were anywhere except here,” he whispered gruffly, a peculiar catch in his voice. “Things have happened, things that can’t be undone.”

Holding on to him for dear life, Helen flattened her hands against his back. “What things?”

He tightened his hold, pulling her hard against him as he buried his face against the curve of her neck. He didn't say anything. He just held her, the tension in his body making his arms tremble. Closing her eyes, Helen caught him by the back of the head and nestled him closer. It wrenched at her, knowing he was feeling so raw, and she stroked his hair, trying to contain the ache around her heart. “Drew, please,” she whispered, already violating her previous edict about keeping personal stuff from distracting them.

He didn’t move for a long time, then he finally inhaled heavily, relaxing his hold just a little. Smoothing back his hair, she eased away and looked up at him, projecting nothing but concern in her eyes. His face was etched with strain…and something else she couldn’t identify, and there was a starkness in his eyes that made her heart twist.

He held her gaze for a moment, a flicker of hesitancy in his eyes, then he turned, sliding them down onto the bed, drawing a light cover over them. With a ragged sigh, he settled her between his thighs and locked his arms around her, resting his head against hers. He seemed almost too drained to move.

“Buck knows about us. Zorro, too.”

Helen covered his hand as it settled at her waist, caressing it with reassuring strokes. This was a big fucking deal. D-Day’s whole identity, his very soul, was deeply attached to his team. The whole reason he had fought so hard against his own desirefor her was because it was breaking an unspoken rule. Now that the cat was out of the bag, what the hell had her brother said?

“It didn’t go very well, did it?”

D-Day hesitated, then exhaled heavily, his tone even softer than hers. “I got my way. There was no other option for me.”

A flutter of alarm settled in her gut. “What does that mean?”

With an angry set to his jaw, he said, “I…disobeyed orders coming here to get you out.”

She closed her eyes, dread spiraling through her. Not only was he in danger because of her, at odds with her brother and probably his whole team, but he stood a chance of getting reprimanded or something even worse…for her. Taking a steadying breath, she said, “Oh, God, babe. Why did you do that?”

D-Day shifted his hand, lacing his fingers through hers, the naked expression in his eyes making her throat contract. “Fuck—Helen—fuck—becauseabandoningyou is not an option.”

And she was faced with that man who had walked away from her with such torment in his eyes, with such gut-wrenching need, and for the first time since she met him, she was fully aware of why he had buried the deepest, most complex of his emotions. She was his one vulnerability. She had been his weakness.

But he was her strength.

Overwhelmed by the feelings that one revelation set off in her, she cupped his face, staring into his eyes, at the baring of his soul, and the beauty of it was more than she could handle. “You sweet, crazy man,” she whispered.

With a gruff sound, he enfolded her in a fierce embrace, holding her as if she were his next breath. Fighting tears, she closed her eyes and cradled his head against her, loving him so much her heart couldn’t hold it all.

“What did Buck say?”

All of a sudden that weariness was replaced with a fierce look. “He was pissed.” His jaw contracted, his expression altering to something bleak. “He called me a stupid son of a bitch.”

“In regard to what?” Something unbearable unfolded in her chest as she steadied him this time.

“The situation between us. I thought…” He swallowed hard, his expression bitter, his voice harsh with self-contempt. “…I thought he’d lost faith in me as a man and a teammate.”

“But you were, of course, wrong,” she said adamantly, her voice breaking badly. Closing her eyes. Quite aware of how hard that must have been for him, she fought against the sudden welling of tears. She clenched her jaw, feeling as if she were about to shatter.

He brushed his knuckles across her cheek, his expression etched with strain, then he swallowed hard, his eyes dark and tormented. “Yes, on so many levels. I was wrong.”

“Does he…approve?” she asked, pretty sure that Buck would make that very clear in very few words.

“Approve,” he scoffed, his eyes lightening just a tad. “He said you were your own woman, and your decisions carried water with him. He preferred the honesty of my feelings for you and accused me of making us both miserable, which I am guilty of.”

“We both have to bear some of that burden. I wasn’t very sensitive to your issues…manipulating you into the barn.”

“You didn’t manipulate me, Helen,” he said fiercely. “I wanted to fuck you. I always want to fuck you any chance I get.” His body was taut, and she rubbed at his shoulders until he relaxed.

He kissed her softly then, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him close, trying to infuse as much warmth and comfort as she could. He broke the kiss, a somber frown etching lines around his eyes. It was obvious that he was mullingsomething over in his mind, and it was something that both disconcerted and disturbed him. Troubled by how he had pulled back into himself, she touched his jaw with her free hand. “What is it?” she asked softly.

Caught off guard, he met her gaze, an odd blend of uncertainty and disquiet darkening his eyes, then he looked away. Spanning his jaw with her hand, she forced him to meet her gaze, her expression serious. “Tell me, Drew,” she directed quietly. “I need to know what you’re thinking.”

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