had control of his expression, he let himself look at her.
Her eyes were wet, her expression fatalistic. “I know.”
He sniffed back the congestion in his nose and made sure there weren’t any tracks under his stinging eyes. His face felt as though it was melting. He scrubbed it back into place.
“Don’t feel guilty, Vin. I know it’s not that simple, but I’m telling you as your friend and coworker and Russ’s wife that you aren’t responsible for Russ’s death. He wanted to jump. No one pushed him out of that plane.”
It wasn’t that simple. His guilt was compounded by how fragile Jacqui had become as a result. That was a big part of the reason he would do just about anything to cushion any further blows life swung her direction.
But he had really needed to hear those words aloud. The fact they came from her gave them extra power. He took a shaken breath and opened his arms. He was already split down the middle and wide open. Pulling her in stopped up that gap. It hurt, but felt good. The pressure of her warm body eased the pain and let him catch his breath.
He wasn’t an expert on personal relations, but he understood the embrace to be a bonding moment. Physical contact with men, elbow to elbow in mud or in a chain or on a rope, built trust that you could be in close quarters without threat. Cuddling a woman built the trust for more intimate physical contact.
This was both of those things and more. It was a deeper kind of trust built on emotional contact. He had never in his life believed in soul mates or anything frou-frou like that, but in this moment, he knew the two of them occupied not just the same head space, but the same heart space. They weren’t alone on two sides of Russ’s death, they were side by side, facing it together.
And out of the blue, in this quiet moment of closeness, the nagging loneliness that was his only true friend, stepped aside. For a moment, he was awash in a feeling he couldn’t even name. It was beautiful and terrifying, like the peaceful float in the air before he felt the slam of the ground below.
He found himself smoothing his hand up and down her back, slowing to get to know the shape of her, tracing her spine, spanning across the small, sharp plates of her shoulder blades, liking the weight of her against him and the familiar smell of—
“Is that my shampoo?”
He dipped his nose closer to the feathery silk of her hair, inhaling again, kind of turned on by the mingling of her scent with his.
“I like it better than mine. You’re starting to think I’m a real pain in the keister, aren’t you?” She tilted her head back, flashing a playful grin. Her arms stayed curled around his waist, palms flat and warm against his lower back.
“I would, if you had more hair. And we lived in nineteen-oh-two.”
They shared a grin and he grew aware of the way her pelvis was angled to brace her weight against the tops of his thighs. Her stomach warmed his goods.
Her gaze drifted to fix on his mouth and her smile faded. Her lips parted.
He felt his tongue move to wet his own lips. The tingle of desire crept in, gathering across his shoulders as an impulse to drag her closer, readying his mouth for the feel of hers. He started growing wood.
Shit . He straightened off the counter and pressed her back a step. What the hell was that? Had he nearly kissed her?
She was blushing all over and scampered to pick up her bag from the chair. “Yeah, so, um, Rhonda’s?”
“Sure, yeah, totally happy to score a free meal.” Score. Bad choice of words and he should not be agreeing to be her date for the evening, but he was saying anything to get them past that stupid “wanna kiss?” moment.
All those askance looks at the station ballooned in his mind. Nice one, Kingston .
“Thanks, Vin.” She sounded sincere, but kept her gaze down. “I’ll, um, take Mutt for a quick walk. He can’t come. Their daughter is allergic.”
“So I have time to shower and shave.” He
Her eyes were wet, her expression fatalistic. “I know.”
He sniffed back the congestion in his nose and made sure there weren’t any tracks under his stinging eyes. His face felt as though it was melting. He scrubbed it back into place.
“Don’t feel guilty, Vin. I know it’s not that simple, but I’m telling you as your friend and coworker and Russ’s wife that you aren’t responsible for Russ’s death. He wanted to jump. No one pushed him out of that plane.”
It wasn’t that simple. His guilt was compounded by how fragile Jacqui had become as a result. That was a big part of the reason he would do just about anything to cushion any further blows life swung her direction.
But he had really needed to hear those words aloud. The fact they came from her gave them extra power. He took a shaken breath and opened his arms. He was already split down the middle and wide open. Pulling her in stopped up that gap. It hurt, but felt good. The pressure of her warm body eased the pain and let him catch his breath.
He wasn’t an expert on personal relations, but he understood the embrace to be a bonding moment. Physical contact with men, elbow to elbow in mud or in a chain or on a rope, built trust that you could be in close quarters without threat. Cuddling a woman built the trust for more intimate physical contact.
This was both of those things and more. It was a deeper kind of trust built on emotional contact. He had never in his life believed in soul mates or anything frou-frou like that, but in this moment, he knew the two of them occupied not just the same head space, but the same heart space. They weren’t alone on two sides of Russ’s death, they were side by side, facing it together.
And out of the blue, in this quiet moment of closeness, the nagging loneliness that was his only true friend, stepped aside. For a moment, he was awash in a feeling he couldn’t even name. It was beautiful and terrifying, like the peaceful float in the air before he felt the slam of the ground below.
He found himself smoothing his hand up and down her back, slowing to get to know the shape of her, tracing her spine, spanning across the small, sharp plates of her shoulder blades, liking the weight of her against him and the familiar smell of—
“Is that my shampoo?”
He dipped his nose closer to the feathery silk of her hair, inhaling again, kind of turned on by the mingling of her scent with his.
“I like it better than mine. You’re starting to think I’m a real pain in the keister, aren’t you?” She tilted her head back, flashing a playful grin. Her arms stayed curled around his waist, palms flat and warm against his lower back.
“I would, if you had more hair. And we lived in nineteen-oh-two.”
They shared a grin and he grew aware of the way her pelvis was angled to brace her weight against the tops of his thighs. Her stomach warmed his goods.
Her gaze drifted to fix on his mouth and her smile faded. Her lips parted.
He felt his tongue move to wet his own lips. The tingle of desire crept in, gathering across his shoulders as an impulse to drag her closer, readying his mouth for the feel of hers. He started growing wood.
Shit . He straightened off the counter and pressed her back a step. What the hell was that? Had he nearly kissed her?
She was blushing all over and scampered to pick up her bag from the chair. “Yeah, so, um, Rhonda’s?”
“Sure, yeah, totally happy to score a free meal.” Score. Bad choice of words and he should not be agreeing to be her date for the evening, but he was saying anything to get them past that stupid “wanna kiss?” moment.
All those askance looks at the station ballooned in his mind. Nice one, Kingston .
“Thanks, Vin.” She sounded sincere, but kept her gaze down. “I’ll, um, take Mutt for a quick walk. He can’t come. Their daughter is allergic.”
“So I have time to shower and shave.” He
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