Page 54 of Guarded from Havoc

Although.

Didn’t Matt think that when he met Isla?

And what about Dante and Sarah? Dante nearly screwed things up with her because he thought he was doing the responsible thing by denying his feelings. But once he was honest with her, it turned out she felt the same way about him. That she’d felt a connection from the first time they met.

Kind of like how I felt about Tate.

“When did you learn yoga?” Tatum continues, thankfully oblivious to my silent debate. “Was it something you started doing when you were in the Army? Or later?”

Right. Yoga. We’re talking about yoga and not my conflicted feelings.

“After the Army,” I reply. “It wasn’t an easy time for me back then. Adjusting to civilian life, losing the team I’d spent years with…”

And dealing with the injury that stole the only career I’d ever wanted away from me. But now is hardly the time to get intothatpart of it.

Her smile fades. Sympathy fills her gaze. “That must have been really tough. Your whole life changing like that.”

The loss of her smile is like a cloud shutting out the sun. Guilt settles over me.

Why would I say something guaranteed to ruin her mood?

In the three days since Tatum arrived, I’ve watched her gradually inch closer to the woman I met back in Tupper Lake. Her smiles have come more readily. Her features aren’t pinched with stress like they used to be. And during our times in the garden, I’ve heard her laugh without hesitation. Make jokes. Teach me those silly non-curses her mom used to say, likefarty floundersandsugar on a cracker.

“It’s fine,” I say quickly. “It happens to everyone when they leave the military, I think. Especially when you’ve served for that long, like I did.”

“Still. It can’t have been—” Pressing her lips shut, she cuts off the rest of her words. After a beat, she adds, “Sorry. I’m not trying to be nosy.”

Shit. Nowshefeels bad about upsettingme?

“You’re not.” I rub her shoulder without thinking. Her bare skin—exposed by the tank top she’s wearing—is like warm silk. Tingles of electricity heat my hand. “Really. You’re fine.”

The pink in her cheeks deepens. For a moment, I think I’ve made her uncomfortable, touching her like this. Yes, I touched her when I helped with her poses, but that was different. That was strictly a part of the lesson.

Although it was pretty damn hard to keep my focus on teaching when I had Tatum’s gorgeous body right there, on glorious, lycra-covered display, in front of me. Seeing her perfectly curved ass as she bent over to do a downward dog or the rise of her breasts when she stretched up into a sun salutation, nothing but stretchy black fabric covering them…

I’ve taught plenty of people yoga, but working with Tatum was by far the most distracting. It took all my willpower to keep my body in check; silently running through gun schematics and calming meditations so Tate wouldn’t see the evidence of my desire for her.

I don’t know what Jade was thinking, giving Tatum workout clothes like that. Why not loose shorts and a T-shirt, or better yet, baggy sweats?

Then again, maybe Jade knewexactlywhat she was doing.

Just as I’m about to jerk my hand away, Tatum leans into it. As she looks up at me, something that looks a lot like heat flares in her eyes.

So I keep my hand there. Even though that irritating voice of logic is telling me not to.

But it’s not the first time I’ve seenthatlook in her eyes. The one that makes me wonder how she feels about me. The look that makes me think I might not be the only one fantasizing about more.

Be responsible, the logical voice commands.Stop touching her. Stop thinking about kissing her. Treat her like you would any of your other friends.

But thatlook.

“Are we going out to the garden today?” she asks with a hopeful lift to her voice. “Or do you have other work to do?”

DoI have other work to do? Yes.

Can I push it off for a couple of hours to spend time with Tate? Also, yes.

So really, there’s no question of my answer.

---