Carina meets my eyes, her molten chocolate gaze questioning. “It’s me. I can’t control it,” she explains. “Thank you. You’re a pretty fine specimen yourself.” She has to be joking. Maybe a few years ago, but not now. Perhaps I can turn heads with my sheer size and presence.
I ignore her compliment completely. “Moose really liked you.”
“Did you think he wouldn’t?” Carina puts her chin in both hands and leans on the table in front of her. “Are you baiting me?” She quirks one arched brow while looking at me up and down.
I bite my bottom lip. “Baiting you how?” Mirroring her, I lean my chin into both hands on the table in front of me. A gesture that clearly isn’t as endearing as when she does it. I’ve never been this close to her before. The flecks of amber that reside in her eyes glow brighter. I smell her shampoo and her perfume as it mixes with the scent of her skin. Subtly, when I breathe in through my mouth, I taste her on my tongue.
For a short moment I think she’s going to back away, retreat into her personal space, and I’ll have to respect that. She doesn’t make a move to lean away. She studiesme as intently as I study her. “Baiting me to say that I really liked Moose too. And then the string of questions that comes when I tell you I like your best friend.” Carina smiles. It’s all white teeth and genuine amusement. “I saw your face. You thought I would think him more interesting.” Tilting her head to the side, she dips her gaze down to my forearms.
“Who do you take me for?” I say, focusing on her mouth. When a person is physically attracted to another person, they focus on the triangle while listening to them speak. Eyes, nose, and mouth. I find myself lost in her triangle anytime she speaks. Even subliminally, I want Carina to be mine.
She leans away, taking her smile and eyes entirely too far away. I let my eyes close and open in a slow blink. “I take you for a tired man,” she replies.
It’s true. I’m exhausted. Moose’s couch isn’t an expensive mattress. I walked away from Megan and left her everything we accumulated together. “Indeed.” I flex my fists on the table in front of me. “I need to get a place of my own.”
Carina’s eyes flare wide. “That’s right. This changes things. If we lived together, it would probably complicate things. Now that, well…” Carina trails off.
If I let her know how much I want her in my space, I’d frighten her away. Playing it cool is my best bet.
“Now that we are going on dates,” she finishes, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
A waitress brushes my shoulder as she walks past our table. When I glance to the side, she winks at me. I turn quickly, hoping Carina didn’t see the exchange. Megan tends to get jealous when anything like that happens.
Carina laughs and shakes her head, tossing her styled hair over one shoulder. “You’re completely unaware of your wiles. It’s both endearing and infuriating, Smith.”
“We can still live together. That’s up to you and what you’re comfortable with,” I say, ignoring her honesty. Holding up one finger, I stop her from interrupting. “I leave for a six-month deployment in a few months. I’ll need a house sitter then anyway.”
Moose alerted me to that fact when he was attempting to convince me to stay with him. As a perma-bachelor, he thinks of circumstances I’ve never had to worry over. My own space is something I need.
“Just think about it,” I say when I see hesitation cross her features. Now that I’ve mentioned it, thoughts of cohabiting with her run through my mind. Cooking meals together, getting to see her when she first wakes up…in whatever she wears to sleep. Late-night movies, being able to look at her anytime I want. Does she wrap her hair in a towel when she exits the shower? Does she snore? How does she go about her morning routine? I know how she takes her coffee and her favorite foods. Excitement reverberates in my bones. I want this badly.
She closes her mouth and nods. Carina finishes her drink, and I clean up the rest of the tapas plates. I pay forour check, against her wishes, and we make our way out of the restaurant. There’s still the tiniest bit of burnt orange light reflecting in the warm San Diego sky. She’s backlit against it—a mere silhouette of perfection.
She turns, her profile now dark and visible in contrast. “When do you deploy, Smith?”
I swallow down my emotions and catch my breath. Her beauty is something to behold. It’s more than skin-deep. It’s soul deep, and it’s calling out to me like my favorite song. “Three months from tomorrow, actually. If we lived together, it could be a nonstop interview. Think of the possibilities. You’d finish that book in no time,” I tease. I know it takes her about a year to write a novel from start to finish.
She stops dead in her tracks and faces me when we get to my truck. “Where are you going when you deploy?” It’s then that I hear the underlying fear in her words. My safety. She’s worried. The sentiment is touching and fearsome at the same time. The feelings are already there. I was right. Not only will she agree tomorein our relationship, it already exists on its own.
“Iraq,” I reply simply.
She nods, lets me open the passenger-side door, and remains silent in thought—questions whirring quicker than her mouth can process, I’m sure. When I park myself in the driver’s seat, I make a move to place my hand on her bare thigh.
First she looks at where I’m touching and then directsher gaze to my face, her eyes heavy with desire. “You’re persuasive when you’re trying to change the subject.” She thinks I don’t want to talk about Iraq. I don’t care about that, though. I want the conversation back to what matters tonight. Us.
“I’m an honorable man. I’ll always do what’s right. When I want something, I merely figure out the most honorable way to obtain it,” I explain. I start the truck and reluctantly pull my hand away from her smooth, warm thigh. From the corner of my eye, I see her rubbing the spot where my hand just was. I smile.
Carina shifts in her seat. “That seems a little dishonorable if you ask me. If plotting is involved to get something you want, perhaps it shouldn’t be obtained in the first place. Shouldn’t it be effortless?”
I nod, driving slower than the speed limit down a back road heading to Jasmine’s house. “Nothing worth having is easily obtained. Or so I’ve learned in my experiences in life. Some things are seemingly effortless, though. I agree with that.”
“Can I quote that?” Carina asks, smiling. She’s so endearing—growing into a more confident woman. I joke that she can’t quote me and ask if she’s hidden a tape recorder. She taps me on the arm lightly, horsing around.
As I drive, I keep my hands on the steering wheel. Regardless of what I was told in the past, I prefer both hands on the wheel—the control all mine. Carinaalternates pulling the hem of her dress, tousling her hair, and looking out the window. She’s shifty and nervous. I know why, and it makes me uneasy. There are expectations even though there is no need for them.
This—this energy and our emotional connection happened organically, in a way this Tinder-obsessed culture can only dream of. “We didn’t talk about work tonight at all, did we?” I ask, grinning. I want to break this pregnant silence. Her questions and unburying past horrors are preferable to this.
Carina looks over. “Are you disappointed? I have several questions ready to go if you are.”
