Page 13 of His Fifth Kiss

He wasn’t sure if they started swaying or if that was simply the earth hurtling through space, but he felt lightheaded and drunk on this woman. “You can be yourself with me,” he said. “I know you will, but I’ll say it anyway: Tell me what you want and what you need, okay?”

He didn’t say she could tell him she just wanted to be friends, and he’d be her friend. He wasn’t even sure how to just be this woman’s friend. He could be her boyfriend, or he wouldn’t be with her. Those were the only two options in his mind, and even a very slow, very long relationship while they both dealt with what needed to be handled was fine with him.

Being only friends with Gerty wasn’t.

“I will.” Her hands slid up his back, and he tensed his right side involuntarily. She didn’t apologize for maybe hurting him, and she didn’t pull back. Mike appreciated that more than he knew how to express, and shivers ran down his spine as her fingers played with the ends of his hair that stuck out below his cowboy hat.

“All right.” He finally stepped back and opened his eyes. It took a moment to adjust to the brightness of the sun—or maybe that was Gerty’s shine. Either way, he blinked a couple of times before he could see her properly. “I’ll be working to get better physically and mentally and emotionally and spiritually. If you need time to do that too, I’m really okay with it.”

She nodded, her eyes wide and full of fear, like a deer that’s just been caught in a hunter’s spotlight.

“Will you tell me about him?” he asked gently.

She turned away from him quickly, but Mike saw the pain etched on her face before she did. “Maybe,” she said. “Not today.”

“Okay,” he said easily. “How about how long it’s been since you broke up with him?”

She walked over to her truck and opened the driver’s door. “Who says I broke up with him?”

“Did you?” Mike followed her, still unable to read her expression because she kept her back to him. She didn’t answer, which was her answer, and Mike detoured to go around the bed of the truck so he could get in the passenger seat.

He managed to do it with as much grace as he could, which was about that of a hippopotamus getting out of a mud hole. He was sweating by the time he got his buckle lined up with the attachment. “Could you?” he asked, glancing over to her.

He held the belt in place, but he couldn’t line it up and push at the same time with his non-dominant hand. Gerty helped him buckle, and the simple act of service broke the tension in the cab.

“We only broke up a month ago,” Gerty said as she looked out her side window, her face turned completely away from him. “I wasengagedto him, Mike.” She practically slammed the truck into reverse, and Mike reached for the handle above the door, thinking she was about to take them on a wild ride.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, but he didn’t mean it.

She looked over to him, her foot still firmly on the brake. “You are?”

“No,” Mike said. “I mean, yes? It’s difficult to explain.”

She nodded to where he gripped the overhead handle, having to stretch across his whole body to do it. “I’m not going to kill us.”

“I’m injured,” he reminded her. “Don’t throw me around.” He added a smile so she’d know it was a joke. Kind of.

She visibly relaxed and eased her foot off the brake so the truck moved gently. He let go of the handle and said, “I’m really sorry that a relationship that meant a great deal to you ended the way it did—however that was. You’re obviously hurting from it, and that makes me hurt.”

It actually made him want to hunt down the man who’d hurt her and make him suffer the way she was. Sometimes the dormant commanding officer side of him rose up, and this was definitely one of those cases. He’d make the man who made his Gerty unhappy apologize until he was sobbing, and Mike shook the thoughts from his head. There would be no hunting and no apologizing.

He glanced over to Gerty, who still watched him, the truck barely moving. “Am I sorry that you’re single now? I mean, my momma taught me not to tell a lie, so….” He left the words there and smiled out the windshield.

Out of his peripheral vision, he saw Gerty shake her head. She was hopefully smiling again, and Mike reflected on all he’d said to her that day.

Stuff about kissing her while he held her right where he wanted her with two hands. He cringed internally just thinking about this morning. At the same time, he’d done his momma proud, because he hadn’t lied. He also hadn’t kissed Gerty when neither of them were ready. So he could easily tell his daddy that he was being careful with this woman.

He’d just told Gerty she could set the pace for their relationship. She’d need to go slow, he knew, and he needed the exact same thing. He’d literally told her she could dictate to him what she needed from him, and he’d do it. Did that make him pathetic?

More than you already are?he wondered. He stole a glance over to Gerty, and she drove with both hands on the wheel, at ten and two, clearly somewhere inside her own mind.

She’d told him a lot that morning too, and he appreciated that she’d said she’d help him every day with his shirt and not even care. That his worth wasn’t dependent on how well his shoulder worked.

He wanted to be whole again, though, and he once again wanted to be a strong, safe place for Gertrude Whettstein.

As she turned right, away from the Hammond Family Farm, he asked, “Where are you takin’ me, baby doll?”

She didn’t even glance over to him, though when Mike had called her that as a teen, she’d cocked her head and challenged him. He liked both versions of Gerty just fine, and he grinned to himself as he took in her profile.

---