by Vonnie Davis
A sunshine smile spread. “Really? That makes us twinzies. Your middle name is Morgan and so is mine. It’s just like we’re related, or something. High-five me!” She raised her little hand, and unsure what to do with the ball of energy, Reece raised his hand and slapped it against hers. Twinzies, my ass.
Her small hands fisted on nearly nonexistent hips. “Quick, tell me why you don’t have your prosthesis on?” She stooped and peered at the end of his stump. “Oh no! It’s been bleeding.” She kissed his bicep several times, a sweet gesture that caused something to warm in his chest. Then she crawled onto his lap, straddling his legs.
His head reared back. What the hell? Sure the kid was cute in her ray-of-sunshine approach, but he wasn’t used to people getting in his private space anymore—except for Gina.
She planted both little palms on his cheeks. “It hurts, doesn’t it?” Brown eyes just like her momma’s bore into his. “Poor baby. Don’t you worry, I’ll take care of this.” Her voice was authoritative.
He froze in place. What was he to do with a kid who wanted to play doctor?
Gina approached, carrying her two duffel bags, and zeroed in on his missing prosthesis. Steam all but rolled from her ears. “What did I tell you would happen if you ever stopped wearing your prosthesis, Reece Mor—”
Piper scrambled from his lap, swiveled, and spread her arms wide in front of him as if providing a blond curly wall of defense. “Don’t use all his names on him, Momma. He didn’t do a bad thing. His stump is bleeding and blistered. I’ve already examined it.”
Reece hated to admit it, but something about her tender, yet fierce protectiveness softened his harsh attitude. She was one cute kid. Talkative as hell, but the peach didn’t fall far from the tree—and she did have the same peaches-and-cream complexion as Gina.
“Bleeding?” Gina dropped her bags onto the ground and rushed to him. She plunged to her knees and inspected his damaged stump. “Oh, Reece, what happened?” Her cool fingers ran over his damaged skin while the sunlight sparkled off the diamond piercing in the side of her nose.
“Push-ups.”
Piper crawled back onto his lap and curled one little arm around his neck. Gina pinned him with a pissed-off glare. “How many push-ups?”
“I was going for fifty, but only made it to forty-four.”
“See her eyes bug out? Be brave, here comes both names,” Piper whispered in his ear.
He tried not to smile at the little girl’s comical warning, so he gathered some sour-assed attitude.
Gina stood, hands fisted on rounded hips. “Reece Morgan, what in blue blazes were you thinking?”
“I don’t much care for your tone.”
Gina squared her shoulders and glared. “Well, I don’t much care for your stupidity.” She focused on her little girl and scowled. “Piper Morgan, what have I told you about making friends with strange men? The last thing you do is crawl onto their laps.”
He glanced at Piper’s cherub face, her lips in a pout. “Your momma’s right. Not all men are nice. Some evil men hurt girls. You have to be very careful.” He didn’t enjoy talking this much to someone strange, but the kid had tried to protect him. It was only right he offered some protective advice in return.
The little child burrowed against him and he was lost—totally, totally lost. “But you wouldn’t hurt me, would you, Reece?”
Oh, baby girl, not intentionally. Where had this instantaneous affection come from?
“No. But here’s the thing. Sometimes mean men act nice to get you to like them. They trick you. Speak only to men your momma approves of. Understand?” I’m all talked out. I need to be alone.
Piper rubbed his cheek with hers. “But how will I ever get a daddy, then? I want one so bad and you and I are already twinzies with the same middle names. It’s a sign.”
Double Kee-ryst a-fucking-mighty!
His gaze shot to Gina’s reddened face. Her mouth worked, but nothing came out. Obviously she hadn’t expected this any more than he had.
The exasperated mother pushed her hair away from her face with both hands and took a deep breath, no doubt to calm herself. “Piper, finding you a dad, if I so choose, is my responsibility, not yours.”
“Well, you’re not doing a very good job.” The child turned back to Reece. “Honestly, Mommy doesn’t even date.” The curls bounced on her head as she made her proclamation.
“How old are you?” Damn, she sounded like a teenager.
“I’m six, but I have the vocabulary of a ten-year-old. I’m almost a genius. I’ve had an IQ test and everything. I was only two points shy. Do I seem shy to you?”
Well hell, little Blondie, damn if you can’t outtalk your mother. Damn if I don’t want to laugh my ass off. Damn if I couldn’t hug you right about now.
Gina rolled her mesmerizing chocolate eyes. “Miss Genius, please go inside with Miz Junebug while I treat Reece’s arm.”
Piper’s little lips feathered against his ear. “See you later, Daddy. I’ve made up my mind. You’re the one I want. I’m going to be Piper Browning.” She gave him a smacking kiss on the lips and he nearly went into cardiac arrest from the shock. She crawled from his lap and waved before dashing inside.
For a couple of minutes, his lungs refused to work. Panic had seized them. Dust lined his throat and he could barely swallow. The sounds of birds he so enjoyed were drowned out by buzzing in his ears. Piper…Piper Browning? I need to get the hell away from these blondes.
The physical therapist gathered her bags. “Reece, if you’ll follow me to your room.” She snapped her fingers in front of his face. “Reece, where did you go? Come back to reality. Let’s go to your bedroom.”
He damn near laughed at the irony of Gina’s command after Piper’s daddy announcement.
She studied him for a moment. “Why are you sweating?”
Because it’s not every freaking day I’m proposed to by a six-year-old cyclone.
“I better check your temperature when we get to your quarters. Thanks for what you said to my daughter, by the way. She’s too forward with people, especially men. She has no clue how cruel they can be. I try telling her, but she doesn’t want to hear it.”
“She has her own agenda.” Like me for a daddy. Ain’t that a bitch?
What did Gina mean by men being cruel? Was she referring to Piper’s father or her own? Who had hurt her to make her feel this way about the male gender as a whole?
Gina walked toward the outside entrance to his room. “Yes, and I didn’t realize it until just a minute ago. And would you just listen to us, having a real conversation with complete sentences that flow into paragraphs? When did the cat bring back your tongue?”
“Have no clue, but I’m all talked out.” The sneaker the goat had chewed the shoelace from flopped up and down as he walked, which was just freakin’ dandy.
“The more I think about it, the madder I get. Forty-four push-ups! What the hell were you thinking, Reece? Ten has been your max so far.”
Bitch all you want, Blondie. I’m done talking for the day. I’m ready to escape into my silent world for a while.
Birds chirped in the tall trees behind the house and Reece tried to locate them in the foliage. How nice to be back in the land of the green after Afghanistan and Syria. Another bird, soaring high, caught his attention with its distinctive, protracted shrill call. Reece’s gaze scanned the sky. There it was. A black eagle, wingspan wide, shining like diamonds, sailing on a gust of wind to the large outcrop of rocks on the ridge for which the ranch was named.
Before Reece could point out the eagle to Gina, he thought better of forcing himself to say any more. He was more comfortable residing in his world of silence. Yes, he’d promised Junebug he’d talk more. Gina, too. But old habits were hard to break, especially when the sound of his voice was almost foreign to his ears.
Nance ran toward him. No doubt the pixie cyclone had scared the dog off. Reece patted his thigh and Nance trotted next to him.
A
ll of the guest rooms at the ranch had two entrances: one from the interior hallway and the other from outside. As he trailed Gina to his room, he tried not to concentrate on the cute sway of her behind and the way her shoulders stiffened when she was pissed. She was a fine-looking woman, but he had no business noticing.
Who am I kidding? I’ve been noticing her since the day she marched into the job, all business and pushy brashness, smelling of peaches and minty mouthwash and looking purely feminine in spite of her attitude.
While he silently bitched about her constant chatter, it was the quiet that haunted him once she left for the day that he truly hated. Something about her filled a void. Yet he’d be of no use to her as screwed up as he was. He unlocked his door and she charged in, ready for battle.
No doubt sensing an angry vibe, Nance went into protective mode over Reece. She jumped onto the king-sized bed, circled twice on the green-and-gray-swirled quilt, and sprawled out. The dog’s trained eyes took in every detail of Gina’s body language. Reece petted Nance to keep her calm.
Chapter 6
Gina was a mass of simmering emotions. The sullen man had finally held a normal conversation. On one hand she should be happy about that, but on the other, dammit, he’d talked to Piper, not her. And no, she was not jealous of her daughter. Gina knew how her sweet magpie could damn near make a stone statue speak.
He’d used his prosthesis, which was great, but he’d overused it, resulting in blisters and bleeding. Where was the dipshit’s common sense? Where?
“Sit on the bed,” she ordered as she opened her kit and removed a digital forehead thermometer. “I want to make sure you don’t have an infection brewing in your system from all this going on in your stump.” She thumbed the ON button and numbers appeared on the display.
She stepped between his legs and his thick thighs tightened fractionally until they touched hers. At least that’s what her stomach told her before it did a few fancy cartwheels. She took a deep breath to clear away the twitchy feeling and held the thermometer to his forehead.
Her eyes connected with his in an unexpected silent, sensual attraction. His gaze locked on hers and her mouth went dry. The passionate pull stilled her thinking. How could any woman form a coherent thought when a man stared at her with such hunger? God, what sexy eyes Reece had, with gold striations highlighting his hazel orbs and long blond lashes he could wield as a weapon against any woman—especially her.
His palm slowly rose and rested on her hip. Her stomach did a series of backflips and splits. Gymnastics had nothing on the hormonal hopping in her stomach and below. She wanted to meow and climb his leg…hell, his whole body.
It was all so silly, really. She’d had her hands on him many times. Yet, he’d never once touched her beyond a hand to the small of her back. He hadn’t so much as shaken her hand when they met. What was the reason behind this change?
Why was he suddenly talking more and more? Was she imagining the softness in his eyes? Did she even want to go there after her many sexual dreams about Reece?
“Gina,” his voice croaked and her knees nearly buckled. When he came to her in her nightly visions, that’s how his voice sounded—needy, yet dominating, both tender and challenging. But that was the thing about dreams, wasn’t it? They weren’t real.
“Gina, what are you thinking?”
She realized the thermometer was beeping and who knew how long it had been making that irritating noise. “Ah”—she cleared her throat—“your temperature is ninety-nine point seven. Low grade, for now.” She pivoted to make a notation on her iPad.
The moment of closeness passed and Reece’s eyes shuttered even as they remained open.
He shrugged. “A few aspirins. No biggie.”
He was back to sentence fragments. She wanted to clobber him. “Let me examine your stump closer.” She slipped on a pair of magnifying goggles and rubber gloves to slowly inspect every sign of injury. “Did you put peroxide on this?”
He grunted.
She jerked off the goggles. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, was that a no-grunt or a yes-grunt?” As if Mr. Tight Lips will answer me. She reached for a bottle of peroxide, opened it, and poured the liquid over the damaged stump. “Why is it you pluck my last nerve every time I see you?” White bubbles foamed. Reece showed no reaction, although his eyes did darken for a beat or two. She cleaned the mess off with sterile wipes and examined his arm again. “Explain to me why you went overboard on the push-ups.”
“Junebug.”
Damn this exasperating man and his cryptic answers. She had lost all her patience with him. Didn’t he know he could damage his stump enough that more amputation would be required? Hadn’t anyone told him to be aware of the slightest infection or injury? Didn’t he realize she worried about him…as a patient?
“Junebug what?”
He exhaled a long sigh. “At supper the other night, she asked me to show her how my mind could make the prosthesis work. So I talked out loud to it and then mentally spoke to it. Junebug got so excited when my hand responded. She encouraged me to keep at it.”
“That’s wonderful, but I don’t think she meant for you to injure yourself to the point you can’t wear your appliance for a few days. Now we’re going backwards instead of forwards.” She grabbed his firm bicep. “I am so pissed at you right now!”
A low growl rolled from Nance’s throat.
Reece patted the dog’s head. “Stand down. Friendly, Nance. She’s a friendly.”
The canine wiggled under Reece’s good arm and licked his cheek and neck. The typically remote man leaned his face against the German shepherd’s head. “Good girl. My heroine.” She responded with a whine.
“Why do you call her your ‘heroine’?”
“She led the team to the abandoned concrete building where ISIS held me prisoner. She had on her high-tech dog goggles we call ‘doggles.’ They’ve got night vision but lucky for me, they’re also equipped with infrared capability to see human heat forms through concrete walls. Somehow she knew it was me.
“I was hanging upside down from exposed rafters with chains attached to manacles around my ankles. Naked. Back cut in a lot of places. My ass like raw meat. Blood dripping from it and my stump. Those radicals had tortured me to make me talk, but I’d kept silent. Hadn’t so much as screamed. So now Nance feels a need to keep protecting me. I’ve thanked her, but—” Reece shrugged again.
Before she thought her actions through, Gina was between his knees once more with her arms wrapped around his neck. “Reece,” she breathed.
“I don’t need your damn pity,” he bit out. His lips thinned between his neatly trimmed beard and mustache and his body tensed.
She’d wounded his male pride. “No, you don’t. What I’m giving is my understanding of why you’ve been acting this way, being uncommunicative, giving me the silent treatment. We’re getting to know each other better, which is nice.” She was teetering on the line of professionalism and being purely feminine.
“Understanding, I can handle.” His only hand splayed in the small of her back, easing her closer. The feminine side of her kissed his cheek and jaw, her lips trailing to his mouth. This man had a way of moving her, of emotionally touching her after all she’d been through.
Typical for him, he’d been closemouthed about how he’d received the scars on his back and buttocks. She had to keep working on them to keep his muscles loose and his pain level down when he bent or walked. Now she knew. Just as she’d suspected, he’d been tortured beyond imagination.
He breathed her name again and her mouth covered his. A gentle mating of lips, rubbing and tasting. Meanwhile, all her lady bits quaked for joy. Her core heated to the point of melting.
Breaking the moment, he tensed and leaned back. “No. Much as I want to kiss you, we are not doing this. A special woman like you deserves a mentally healthy and whole man. I’m neither. Can’t you see what a fucked-up guy I am?” Pain-filled eyes drank in her face as if he’d never see it again.
“I wouldn’t hurt you for the world, Gina. We need to remain patient and therapist only.” He sliced the air horizontally with his open hand. “Nothing more. Now do what the hell you need to do to help my stump heal and then leave me the fuck alone.”
She crossed her arms. “How long have you been perfecting this act?”
His eyes narrowed, his thick lashes nearly obliterating them. “What act?”
She shouldn’t say it. Professionally she knew better, but her wounded heart wasn’t having any of it. “This feel-sorry-for-me act. Boohoo, I’ve been in a battle and got injured. So now I’m not good enough to enjoy life or the people around me.” She yanked off his t-shirt, pulling up the sides, while he struggled to keep it on, jerking down the front. Back and forth they went at it until the shirt gave way and ripped.
“I gotta tell ya, Reecie-Peecie, this shit is getting old. For a month I’ve put up with your sulking and I’ve had all I can take. I can’t help you if you aren’t going to fight along with me.”
He yanked off the shredded garment. “You want a fucking fight, Blondie? Okay, I’ll damn well give you one.”
—
Reece wrapped his arms and legs around her, hoisting her on top of him as he flopped back onto the bed. Her eyes, the color of rich coffee, expanded in shock as he rolled and tucked her under him.
His annoyance almost instantly transformed to arousal. The fit of her softness against his muscle-hardened body was damn near custom. Teasing. Tempting. Testing his self-imposed boundaries.
“What are you doing?” Her warm, soft hands went to his pecs, her fingertips raking over the roman numerals of his tattoo on his chest. “A minute ago you wouldn’t let me kiss you. Now you’re on top of me? Really?”
“You think I don’t know how crazy this is? Our mouths tell each other to stay away while our bodies betray all that bullshit.” His hand smoothed across her silky blond hair, his partial arm remained under her waist. The peach fragrance of her shampoo filled his senses. “God, woman, you drive me apeshit crazy when you’re near me. Some days I think I can’t keep from touching you.”
