that she was going backward, that she would continue to grow weaker terrified her. Would anyone be able to trust her, could she trust herself in a fight with a combative shifter or vampire if she couldn’t out wrestle a ten-year old human girl?
“Come in.” Sitting up, she patted her head and felt what had to be an impressive look if her fingers read the lumps right. Falling asleep with wet hair was always an adventure in hairstyling, even with straight hair like hers. A light brown fluffy mess surely awaited her guest. That it would be Michael was a no-brainer. Not after that little spectacle downstairs or how they’d left things. If she’d been able to do any more than stand on wobbly Bambi legs she would have tried to clean up the mess, but she’d barely been able to carry herself upstairs to shower and then fall into bed. Carrying giant table legs and heavy oak boards wasn’t really doable right now.
Michael’s dimmer than usual blue eyes found hers immediately upon entry. The tension around his mouth as well as the way he scanned her as thoroughly as he could without asking her to put on a hospital gown didn’t escape her notice. “How are you feeling?” He held up a hand, palm out then pointed at hers, which now bore not a mark nor did her knees. He used the same hand, odd. Most people did that little maneuver using one hand for each gesture. Michael’s dominant hand remained firmly in his pocket.
“Fine,” a yawn escaped before she could stifle it. Becca waved it off. “My run really took it out of me. I’m fine, seriously.” Stubborn yes, stupid no, Becca didn’t wade back into the fight where they’d left it before her little fit. Michael would tell her what he could, when he could. Being with him meant accepting the limitations Black’s rule over him held. Considering the burden that heaped upon Michael, Becca forced herself to let it go. She could manage her frustration. She could manage anything for him. “So...a couple of days leave. Do you have plans?”
“Funny you should ask.” Some of the tightness in his features faded and the corner of his mouth turned up. His relief they were past fighting easily read. “We were thinking Carmel or maybe LA.” He caught her raised brow. “Ryan,” he started then shifted uncomfortably.
Smiling, Becca felt the residual animosity dissolve. She had brothers and was constantly surrounded by male pride in the military. She knew that look. “You two made up and you don’t want him to be alone because he’s sad?”
He grinned and Becca felt something in her heart shift. He was a good man and they were all lucky to have him to soften the blow of serving directly under Admiral Black aka King Asshole Extraordinaire.
“Busted,” he replied softly with a grin.
She patted a spot on the dark blanket covered mattress beside her and Michael, shutting the door behind him, walked past her to take a seat on her other side. Her hand slid into his of its own accord. Some little motions had become habit for her. “Has he talked to her at all since they broke up? Lik e reall y talked to her?”
A small shake of his head landed several black waves on his pale forehead. God, he took her breath away. She had trouble concentrating sometimes when he was just being him. No wonder she couldn’t function when he really turned it on. As tired as she was, a part of her, a part demanding attention at that very moment, wanted to forget all the talking. His thumb rubbed the back of her knuckles, reigniting the flame that hadn’t quite gone out when he’d left her so suddenly downstairs.
“You know Gabrielle, she’s doesn’t want to talk unless it’s work, so no, they haven’t.” His voice was gentle, gliding over her skin with the same effect on her heart rate as his touch.
Becca’s breath hitched and she leaned in without thinking, so close their noses nearly touched. Her eyes closed. “I don’t know how she can
“Come in.” Sitting up, she patted her head and felt what had to be an impressive look if her fingers read the lumps right. Falling asleep with wet hair was always an adventure in hairstyling, even with straight hair like hers. A light brown fluffy mess surely awaited her guest. That it would be Michael was a no-brainer. Not after that little spectacle downstairs or how they’d left things. If she’d been able to do any more than stand on wobbly Bambi legs she would have tried to clean up the mess, but she’d barely been able to carry herself upstairs to shower and then fall into bed. Carrying giant table legs and heavy oak boards wasn’t really doable right now.
Michael’s dimmer than usual blue eyes found hers immediately upon entry. The tension around his mouth as well as the way he scanned her as thoroughly as he could without asking her to put on a hospital gown didn’t escape her notice. “How are you feeling?” He held up a hand, palm out then pointed at hers, which now bore not a mark nor did her knees. He used the same hand, odd. Most people did that little maneuver using one hand for each gesture. Michael’s dominant hand remained firmly in his pocket.
“Fine,” a yawn escaped before she could stifle it. Becca waved it off. “My run really took it out of me. I’m fine, seriously.” Stubborn yes, stupid no, Becca didn’t wade back into the fight where they’d left it before her little fit. Michael would tell her what he could, when he could. Being with him meant accepting the limitations Black’s rule over him held. Considering the burden that heaped upon Michael, Becca forced herself to let it go. She could manage her frustration. She could manage anything for him. “So...a couple of days leave. Do you have plans?”
“Funny you should ask.” Some of the tightness in his features faded and the corner of his mouth turned up. His relief they were past fighting easily read. “We were thinking Carmel or maybe LA.” He caught her raised brow. “Ryan,” he started then shifted uncomfortably.
Smiling, Becca felt the residual animosity dissolve. She had brothers and was constantly surrounded by male pride in the military. She knew that look. “You two made up and you don’t want him to be alone because he’s sad?”
He grinned and Becca felt something in her heart shift. He was a good man and they were all lucky to have him to soften the blow of serving directly under Admiral Black aka King Asshole Extraordinaire.
“Busted,” he replied softly with a grin.
She patted a spot on the dark blanket covered mattress beside her and Michael, shutting the door behind him, walked past her to take a seat on her other side. Her hand slid into his of its own accord. Some little motions had become habit for her. “Has he talked to her at all since they broke up? Lik e reall y talked to her?”
A small shake of his head landed several black waves on his pale forehead. God, he took her breath away. She had trouble concentrating sometimes when he was just being him. No wonder she couldn’t function when he really turned it on. As tired as she was, a part of her, a part demanding attention at that very moment, wanted to forget all the talking. His thumb rubbed the back of her knuckles, reigniting the flame that hadn’t quite gone out when he’d left her so suddenly downstairs.
“You know Gabrielle, she’s doesn’t want to talk unless it’s work, so no, they haven’t.” His voice was gentle, gliding over her skin with the same effect on her heart rate as his touch.
Becca’s breath hitched and she leaned in without thinking, so close their noses nearly touched. Her eyes closed. “I don’t know how she can
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