With our tummies full of our dinner, the two of us sat on a dusty braided rug in front of a crackling fire. Miles away thought- wise, Zander watched but probably didn't see my attempts to evenly toast the marshmallows he'd brought. I gently rotated the skewer he'd improvised from a coat hanger. Flames threatened the golden brown I was going for. I quickly blew them out and slid the fluffy goo off the hanger.
He opened his mouth. I popped it inside, stringing hot white sugar over his chin and lips. I resisted licking if off. I didn't want the mood of the room swinging to weird again. Was it simply a stumble that had broken us up earlier? Or had he done it deliberately? I suspected he'd taken the kiss over the penny to keep from hurting my feelings. But that didn't explain the passion that instantly flared between us.
Or maybe it did. I was a girl in love. He was a guy. In love or not, no guy was going to turn down sex.
Did he have any idea that my heart did funny things every time I looked at him? And that wasn't the only part of me affected. I'd have given my body to Zander in a flash, which was saying a lot. Although I wasn't a virgin, I'd definitely been picky about partners. In fact, there'd only been two--the old high-school-steady-on-prom night cliché and a guy I'd flipped for my freshman year at Rocky Falls Community College. The latter relationship had lasted a whopping six months, and I now knew why. What I'd thought was love, really wasn't. At least not when compared to my feelings for Zander.
"Are you still scared that someone followed us?" he said.
"Not so much now."
Zander got up and went to the window that he'd left open so we could hear the night. With the cabin illuminated only by the flickering flames in the fireplace, he could see the woods around us pretty well.
"All clear?" I asked.
"Yep. It smells like rain."
"But the moon was out when we came in."
"Not anymore."
I joined him at the window, staying on the other side of it as I peered through the dusty panes. The forest lay thick with shadows now--shadows of trunks and limbs that could be humans. "You're sure we're okay?"
"I am. Don't worry."
He coaxed me back to the fire, where we finished snacking. I yawned more than once as we cleared up. "How are you going to keep the mice away?"
"We'll stay right here, very close to the flame. Rodents don't like fire."
"And you know this because...?"
"It was in our Army training manual. Chapter two, page seventy-three. 'How to Keep Rodents Away While Catching some Zs in a Sleeping Bag inside a Lakeside Cabin Owned by Sparks's Parents.'"
"You are such a liar!"
Zander unexpectedly caught my wrists and pulled me into his arms. I tipped my head back to meet his gaze. "Cute little mice are the least of our worries, okay?"
"I know that."
"And I already told you that you're safe with me."
I nodded, my heart swelling with love for him. Did he love me back even a little?
Zander stepped away. "Help me spread the sleeping bag."
I did, grateful for something to do besides worry and wonder. In moments, the bag lay parallel and in front of the fireplace.
"You get the warm side," he said. "I'll roast if I try it."
"Okay. Turn around so I can put on my PJs."
Never questioning why I suddenly needed privacy, he dutifully turned his back on me. I pulled off my boots, leggings, and Piko top. Moments later, dressed in flannel sleep pants and a thermal shirt, I crawled into the bag. Zander's bedtime prep involved removing his shoes and substituting sweat pants for his jeans. He did not ask me to turn around. He did not remove the prosthesis. I knew this because I shamelessly watched his every move. After taking one last look out the window, he joined me. Although the bag wasn't built for two, we found it plenty wide for both of us if we spooned, his front pressed to my back.
With our heads on the pillow I'd brought from home, we talked about nothing until he spit some of my hair out of his mouth.
I sat up. "Sorry. I meant to put it in a ponytail."
"Don't. I like it this way."
When I lay back down, I faced him. His eyes widened slightly, but he quickly adjusted and let me snuggle up. "Will you be able to sleep with the leg on?" I rubbed my bare foot down the prosthetic.
"No, which is why I haven't taken it off. I promised I'd keep the mice away, remember?"
"Forget the mice. I have." Impulsively I brushed my lips over his to test his reaction.
He tensed, but didn't stop me.
Encouraged, I kissed him again, this time a full-on lip lock that was still a bit tame considering the scorchers we'd shared earlier. But I wanted him to take the lead this time.
Zander did just what I'd hoped, sweeping his tongue over my lips. I parted them. He frenched me. I loved it. With my heart hammering in the best of ways, I crawled on top of him and sat up, my thighs straddling his torso. I boldly pulled my thermal tee up and over my head, which left me in bikinis and the sleep pants.
He sat up, too, kissing me again and again while I hurriedly rid him of his shirt. I pressed my upper body against his as we made out and didn't stop him when he touched me as he had before. In fact, I encouraged it, loving the tantalizing flick of his tongue, and how warm his hands felt against my chilled flesh.
I went for the waistband of his sweats. He sucked in a sharp breath and pinned my hands in his, his gaze boring into mine. "Why?"
Because I love you.
No, too soon. "Because I want you, of course."
Zander lay back and groaned. "This is bad. This is so freakin' bad."
Not the response I expected. Naturally, I recoiled, more confused than I'd ever been. "Because you don't want me?"
"Hell no. Because I don't deserve you."
"Believe me, I'm no bargain."
"I disagree, but it's not just that. I'm no good for any woman."
Again? "Don't you think that's my decision to make?"
"Not when you can't think straight."
"Do you read minds?"
He rubbed his hand over his head, unconsciously messing his hair. "I told you before that I didn't."
"Then how do you know I'm not thinking straight?" I climbed off him and reached for my top.
"Because you have such a big heart that you might not realize what's really going on here. You deserve so much more than a cripple with broken dreams."
"So you're worried this is pity sex."
"Exactly!" He sounded so relieved that I'd finally gotten it.
"Bullshit!"
He blinked.
"Don't you dare play that card. There's nothing wrong with you that we can't work around."
"But--"
"Nothing. If I got hurt and lost an arm or something, would you abandon me?"
"Of course not."
"Ditto." I finished yanking down the hem of my shirt and pulled a coated band off my wrist to hold my hair back, twisting the tresses into a messy ponytail with agitated movements. "And for your information, another of your body parts was on my mind when I kissed you. In fact, I didn't give your stupid leg or lack of it a moment's thought."
Zander just looked at me.
"Everything isn't about you and your war wounds, okay? If you don't want me, say so. Or, better yet, don't speak at all. It won't make a difference. I'll still want you, and I don't think you're getting laid often enough to turn down sex, even if you're not particularly attracted to me."
His mouth moved, but no words came out.
"Nod if you can hear me."
Zander came to life, quickly nodding. "I don't know what to say."
"I'll make this easy for you. Blink once if you want sex. Blink twice if you don't."
He blinked once. We went for each other, kissing like crazy, each one better than the one before it. He touched me. I touched him. Once again, I sat up to pull my shirt over my head.
The sharp snap of a tree branch right outside made both of us jump. Zander slapped a hand over my mouth as if sensing the scream in my throat. I rolled off of him. He got to his feet, cursing softly and stumbling into the wall. Precious moments were lost tugging at the prosthesis, which must've slipped.
The low howl of something wild sent shivers up my spine. I crawled to the corner of the room and stood with my back to it while Zander snagged his hoodie and stepped into his shoes. He quietly exited the house, which made no sense at all to me. A chilly wind swept through the room in his wake. I huddled in my corner for several seconds, scared out of my mind. But something weird happened. Slowly but surely my fear turned to anger.
Was I really cowering in the dark while someone I loved faced danger alone?
Before I could change my mind, I stepped into my boots and ran lightly through the open doorway and into the dark in search of Zander. I stopped just outside the door, listening, but heard nothing. With my heart jack hammering, my stomach in a twist, and no real plan of action, I headed east around the house, pausing frequently to listen. Nothing. I moved on, rounding the southeast corner and running smack into Zander. He shoved me so hard that I landed on my butt in a huge pile of leaves.
"S'me!" My words were barely a whisper in the dark.
"Riley? Shit! I could've killed you." He yanked me to my feet.
"With what?" I whispered as I brushed wet leaves off my rear. "A coat hanger?"
He reached into the pocket of his hoodie and pulled out a gun.
I fell back in horror. "Where'd you get that thing?"
"It's a Glock 22, not a 'thing.' And I've had it since I got back from Afghanistan."
"Why?"
He hesitated, and when he did answer, I barely heard him. "I had my reasons. Now would you please go back inside? No, wait. I'd better go, too, and make sure the cabin's still empty."
Wishing I'd stayed put so we'd already know, I took the hand he offered me and followed as he skirted the exterior, entered through the front door, and searched the place. Only then did I relax. "Did you see anything outside?"
"Nothing. Everything is fine."
"What do we do now?"
"Sleep."
As if I could, but I pasted on my game face. "That's boring. Why don't we take up where we left off? You, me, sex."
"Not happening."
"Why?"
"There are so many reasons I don't even know where to start. Bottom line: not here, not tonight."
The flickering firelight revealed Zander's determined expression.
I guessed why he'd changed his mind. Over the past week, I'd become one man-sized burden, something I'd never intended to do. He'd taken on me and my problems, not once complaining even though they'd ridiculously complicated his life. And now I wanted sex, something that always changed things whether or not the ones involved meant for it to.
Cutting him some slack, I crawled back into the sleeping bag without a word. Zander zipped it to my neck and stretched out on the plaid couch a few feet away.
The weight of the gun on my belly made me feel safer, something I credited to my time in Afghanistan. There, a weapon equated to preparation and protection. Without it, there was no defense against a fully armed enemy as changeable as a chameleon.
As a special operations weapons sergeant, I'd become adept at what they called unconventional warfare tactics and techniques-- in my case a psychic skill--as well as the conventional ones, which included firearms.
Before I joined up, I'd only owned a rifle that I used deer hunting with my grandpop before he died. To be honest, I didn't even know where it was now. I suspected my mother had gotten rid of it. She didn't like guns any more than Riley did. I couldn't blame either of them. Guns could be scary in the hands of the bad, and, sometimes, in the hands of the good.
Assuming things were ever that black and white.
Which they weren't.
All I knew is that my country's Constitution gave me the right to be armed. Soldiers had died protecting that Constitution-- soldiers I'd known and loved. Husbands, sons, brothers, dads. Wives, daughters, sisters, moms. So no matter how anyone else felt about the gun issue, I respected the right to bear arms and believed our forefathers had been correct in writing an amendment ensuring our freedom to choose how we kept ourselves safe.
Did I buy the Glock because I planned to kill someone? Of course not. I'd seen enough death to last ten lifetimes, most of it resulting from something that exploded--bombs, missiles, shells...you name it. I owned the gun because I'd fought for freedom, and freedom in the USA meant I had the right to carry it. Besides that, I wanted to protect the ones I loved.
Bottom line: I'd paid dearly for the privilege to be armed.
And while I never carried my concealed weapon to the mall, or the park, or a restaurant, I was damn glad I had it now.