Page 91 of Nothing to Fear

With Kelli, he’d had amazing sex, but it’d been just a physical act for pleasure. By the end, screwing had become a chore. She’d never known who he was, and when she’d seen a glimpse of the real him, she’d bailed on their marriage and run straight to another man.

Willow saw him, but the truth hadn’t scared her off. She wanted more of him. Crazy.

The way she touched him, looked at him, said his name, spoon-fed him affection and adoration, told him this was what he’d always craved. What really threw his world spinning off its axis was how he found nourishment in the sight of her, simply holding her.

This was happiness.

He curled his arms tighter around her.

“Tell me why you joined the CIA.” Her gentle voice sent his heart skittering in surprise. She’d been so still, her heartbeat so slow, he would’ve sworn she was asleep.

“The why is tied to unpleasant history.” Bloody. Painful.

Edgy tension trickled through him, but there was no knee-jerk reaction to close off and shut down. Not from her. She had a lovely way of robbing him of his defenses.

“You said to ask another time.” She stroked his forearm, nuzzling close. “Well, it’s another time and I’m asking.” Her voice was light and lazy.

A cool breeze swept in, rustling the curtains. Kissing the back of her head, he buried his face in her hair.

“Tell me, how does a star football player end up working for the CIA?”

“You’re really curious,” he teased, tickling her ribs.

She squirmed against him. “I can’t figure it out. With your all-star looks and talent to match, you could’ve done so many other things.”

Then I never would’ve met you. Every ugly act and dirty deed was worth it to know her.

“Tell me.” She tugged on his fingers with impatience.

Whenever she touched him, he softened, stilled. This casual intimacy with her was anything but casual. And it terrified him.

She was so much more courageous, pouring herself out to him. He couldn’t give her a future, but here, safe with her curled around him like a second skin, he could bare his soul. The one true thing he had to offer.

“My dad left when I was four and never looked back. It broke my mother.”

“A husband deserting his wife and young child is enough to break a heart.”

“No, not just her heart, something deeper. His leaving broke her spirit. She wouldn’t get out of bed, didn’t go to work, stayed up all night crying. I had to fend for myself for a bit, making do with the food in the fridge, ready-made prepackaged stuff in the cabinets. I’d leave dry cereal or cookies and water on her nightstand, hoping she’d snap out of it.”

“Goodness, Gideon.” Willow kissed the back of his hand. “How long did it go on?”

“Weeks.” To the best of his recollection. “When she managed to pull herself together, boyfriends rotated through the house. Dirtbags who drank, did drugs. Some liked to hit.”

“Did they hit you?” She turned, resting her head under his chin, pressing satin curves to his chest, her breath caressing his throat.

He rubbed his knuckles over her spine in tender brushstokes, grounded by her softness, keeping the rage and sorrow of the past from boiling up. “One night, Clint—he was the worst—kicked me out of the living room because he wanted to watch television. I didn’t grab my toys fast enough. These silly Matchbox cars. He knocked me around for being too slow.”

Willow pulled back and caressed his face. He glanced at her eyes. Warmth and kindness shone. No poor-you pity.

“How old were you?”

“Eight.” The year his life changed course. “But I fought back as best I could against a grown man. By the time my mom got in between us, one of my eyes was swollen shut.”

She pressed her head to his chest and hugged him, tight and firm, as if afraid he might slip away.

Sharing his story for the first time, he expected the impulse to detach to take hold of him. It didn’t. He relished the intimate threads drawing him to Willow. Despite the torment of anger and pain roiling inside at dredging up the past, letting her in was giving him something he’d never had but always needed.

“I ran from the house. Had no idea where to go. Ended up sneaking into my neighbor’s garage. A friendly couple with no kids. The husband, Benjamin, found me. Asked questions I refused to answer. He brought me inside, and Hannah, his wife, tended to me.