Page 27 of Liar & Champion
I pulled over on the side of the road in a cloud of dust while she stared at me with those big, soft eyes.
“You’re capable of taking care of yourself. I’m sorry for trying to take advantage of your sense of guilt. I mean, taking the bullet for Christina doesn’t obligate you to make my life easier by being the deb my mom wants me to take, even if you are by far the most pleasant company I’ve enjoyed for a long time.”
“It’s the flying bullets.”
“You’re a sweet soul.” I put the car in park and opened the door, going around to the trunk.
“Where are you going? I’m not dumping you in the middle of the desert! Are you insane?” she demanded, following me.
“You were looking at me and thinking that I was dangerous. You’ve been through enough these last few days.” I opened the trunk and bent to get my duffle, but she slid in on top of it, blocking it with her extremely tempting body, our faces nose to nose, her eyes even more enormous as she stared at me.
“I tossed your phone when I panicked although there’s no way he could have messed with it. You might die out here without any way to contact anyone. I didn’t sew up your arm just to let you die from dehydration. That reminds me, you need to drink more fluids. Also, how is the pain? Do you need some more drugs?” She glanced down at my mouth and blushed the prettiest shade of pink that trailed down her neck to the top of her tank top.
That blush was enough to distract me from my trajectory. “I’m perfectly well, thanks to you. I don’t want you to be afraid of me or of anything.” I spoke softly, but stayed firm. If she didn’t want to mix with me, then she’d make do on her own. She was smart, prepared, and now knew that Michael Dupre was specifically targeting her.
She had a peculiar expression on her face. “I’m afraid of lots of things, but that’s no reason to walk off into the sunset. Without a canteen.” She caught my face in her hands and stared into my eyes, her own soft, intent, and oh so sweet, making me terribly hungry. “I’m afraid of commitment. I’m afraid of kissing. I’m afraid of marriage and children and cactus.”
I blinked at her. “Cactus?”
She nodded soberly. “I fell into one once. It made an impression.”
“Several I’d bet.”
She smiled slightly. “But I’m not afraid when I’m with you, except that I’m scared I’m going to make your life troublesome.” She winced slightly. “Yeah, getting shot can be very troublesome.”
I touched her hair, her shoulder, her chin, because she still had her hands on my face and I needed to reciprocate. “I’m terrified of marriage. I’m also afraid of virgins. Are you a virgin?”
Her eyes went wide and then she slowly nodded. She leaned close and whispered, “I’m such a virgin, I don’t even drink alcohol. I’m a virgin all. The. Way.” She grinned suddenly. “If you’re so scared of marriage, why did you offer?”
“Twice. I know. I guess I’m more afraid of seeing a headline about your sudden disappearance.”
“Oh, no, he wouldn’t hurt me.”
I cocked my head while rage flowed through my veins at the memory of her bruises, dislocations, pain. “I was there, Kitten. Hurt is what he did. Did he kiss you? Did it hurt? Is that why you’re scared of kissing?”
Her eyes darted to my mouth and another kind of warmth went through me. Her lips were made for kissing, but not the hard brutal kind a man took from a woman. “I suppose there could be some correlation. Hm. Your lips look very soft. How soft can you kiss?”
I sighed heavily and brushed my nose against hers. You just didn’t ask a man something like that if you didn’t want a demonstration. And she’d as well as admitted that her kissing fears and commitment issues came from her psychotic stalker. “As soft as butter in the hot sun.”
She cocked her head as she stared at me, still sitting on my duffel bag in the trunk while a car went by, blowing her hair around. “Meltingly soft? Why are you afraid of marriage?”
I pulled away slightly, but she stayed there, eyes bright with curiosity and something else, like empathy. “It’s just so fake. No, that’s not the right word. Clinical. Unemotional. Contractual. There shouldn’t be any feelings involved, because people will disappoint you, and yet, without feelings, how can you coexist with someone?”
She nodded. “So, you’re a romantic at heart, but your parent’s marriage was terribly disillusioning. And now you’re being forced to be with a woman for six months, so that you’ll fall in love with her, right?”
I frowned and took a step back, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’m not a romantic.” That was the most ludicrous thing anyone had ever called me.
She smiled her sunshine smile and I couldn’t help returning it. “Of course not. You’re just a champion, fighting for the innocent and the downtrodden. There’s nothing romantic about that.” Her eyes twinkled with mischief, and I had the irresistible urge to kiss her, right there, in the trunk, with cars passing by thinking we were crazy. Even though she was a virgin, and I wasn’t going to be the one to teach her about that side of life. I wanted to teach her about kissing, though. A very thorough education on the subject with all possible subsets.
“Do you like camping?”
She looked around at the desolate landscape around us. “I knew I forgot something. I brought sleeping bags, but no tents. I guess we could sleep under the stars.”
I picked her up and slammed the trunk then walked around and put her back in the passenger’s seat. We needed to have some time together before we got to Vegas so that she could figure out what she wanted, and so that I could get my head on straight. I wanted her to be the one I kept for six months, at that point mostly to keep her safe, but I really didn’t want to go back to college and try to pick up someone else. Sunshine needed me, and I needed to be needed. By her.
I said, “I know that I’m not going to hurt you, but you’re going to have to trust me since you refuse to let me go. There’s a Grand Canyon around here somewhere, with lots of obscure camping and woods, the kind Smoky Bear likes to hang out in. It’ll be a nice transition spot where we can stay and figure out what we should do, what’s best all around. Okay?”
She stared at me while I buckled her seatbelt. “I haven’t had anyone buckle me in for so long. Not since I broke my arm. You really are the best home health care specialist ever. I’ll go camping with you, but I have one condition.”
