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“Anything, really. Documentaries. Animals. I’m not always up on the most recent shows, and I don’t like to invest in something if I can’t binge it, if you know what I mean.”

“Absolutely.”

He settled onto a documentary about whale sharks, and she was more than happy with that. They munched popcorn and lazed on the couch, eventually propping their feet up onto the coffee table and relaxing back into the cushions. Connor still said nothing about her amputation, though it was parked right beside his big bare feet. It was strange to Olivia, because many times, as soon as people realized she’d lost a limb, she stopped being a human to them. She started being an ‘amputee’, and it bugged the hell out of her. So, when she went to her jobs, very often she didn’t tell them a thing about her leg, and they never realized.

Connor rolled his head to look at her, and she realized he’d asked her a question. “I’m sorry, what?”

“It doesn’t matter.” His gaze scanned her face. “Are you okay? You seem distracted about something.”

Olivia snorted. Was he oblivious? Or did he just not care? She drew a breath. “Usually, when I expose my leg, people start to treat me different.”

“In what way?” he asked, reaching the remote forward to mute the TV. Then he sat up a little and turned toward her.

Olivia hated bringing it up, now. “They just start treating me like I’m deficient somehow.”

“I don’t think you’re deficient,” Connor frowned. “I’ve seen what amputees can do. One of my men is an amputee, and I’d go into a burning building with him any time. He does the same tests as everyone else, and it’s impeded his life very little. He’s also married with kids.”

Hm. That was interesting. “So, my prosthetic doesn’t bother you?”

He scowled. “Seriously? That’s why you’ve been sitting here all tense, waiting for me to comment on your leg?”

Olivia shrugged, feeling ridiculous. “Yes.”

Then his face smoothed. “Ah… I get it. You’re looking for a reason to pull back. That’s fine. If you’re not comfortable with where I thought this was heading, it’s fine. You can head to your bed, and I’ll head to mine. No harm, no foul.”

Olivia grimaced. “This isn’t going the way I thought it was going to.”

“What do you want from me?” he asked her simply, and something about the simple words moved her. Tears started in her eyes, and she had to blink them away.

“Your prosthetic really doesn’t bother me,” he said, rubbing a broad hand across her back. “It’s not you. Is your life defined by what your prosthetic can do?”

She shook her head, mute.

“Then why are you letting it dictate how you enjoy life?”

One tear slipped down her cheek, and she swiped it away. He was right. Why was she being like this? “I had a guy once tell me that if it wasn’t for the pegleg, I’d be a good catch.”

Connor scowled. “Fuck him. Seriously. You’re a strong enough woman that I shouldn’t have to tell you not to listen to shit like that.”

He thought of her like that? “Well, I try not to, but it creeps in, you know? And it hangs on, no matter how hard you try to shake it off.”

Reaching out, he curled a hand around her neck and pulled her in for a kiss. “Well, let these sink in and hang on, then. You’re gorgeous. I love your wispy hair and your bright eyes. Your lips haunt me. Ever since that first kiss, I’ve been Jonesing to taste you more. Your mind intrigues me. I know how smart you are, and I love that you don’t put up with stupid shit.”

Those damn tears. They were rolling down her cheeks. Then he pressed a finger to her heart.

“And most importantly is this right here.” He swirled his finger in a circle, careful to avoid her bruises from the seatbelt. “I know if you didn’t have an incredibly strong heart, you never would have made it this far. It’s why you care for others even when you don’t have to. You didn’t have to worry about the people in that crash. If you had sat there and waited for us to come get you, no one would have said a word. Instead, you busted out of your car and went to help. And it’s why you’ve worried about that motherless little girl for three days.”

Olivia blinked. “We’ve both been worried about her.”

“Yes, we have,” he said softly. “So, talk to me about your leg. Let’s get it out of the way. Because I have other things planned for tonight.”

He gave her a rakish grin and wiggled his brows like an idiot, and she couldn’t help but snort and shake her head. “You’re a goof.”

He held out a hand and wiggled his fingers toward her feet in a ‘give me’ motion. Olivia turned on the cushions and propped both feet in his lap. His hand rested on the prosthetic, and it hurt her heart. She wished she could feel him touch her there. Drawing a breath in, she looked down at her leg.

I will survive this.

“We were in Afghanistan during the Rebellion,” she said softly. “Taliban overran us and took us hostage. At one point they attacked my friend Baylee, and I tried to intervene. I got knocked back, and one of the men stomped on my leg, breaking both bones. Open compound fracture. I passed out from the pain and when I woke up, Baylee was holding me and crying. She’d had to put a tourniquet on to control blood loss. By the time we were rescued, the leg was dead and had to be taken. I’m just glad she positioned the band where she did. Below the knee amputations are easier than above knee.”