Breaking Free

Hawk stretched on the bed and stifled a yawn. He glanced at the clock. It read O eight hundred. Water running somewhere in the house sounded like distant rain. Obviously, Zoe was already up.

  His jaw tightened as the scene the night before played through his head. It had taken an hour to convince the two patrolmen that it had been a prank and not something more lethal. The experience had left him with an itchy feeling of guilt he hadn’t done a damn thing to earn. The raw edgy mood of the night before came roaring back with a vengeance. Zoe’d had the same look the night before.

  God damn it. Why did she have to be so insistent on knowing everything? She didn’t understand that he owed his loyalty to his men. And did she want to understand the military point of view as to information about those men? No. Stubborn--

  He drew a deep breath. The smell of smoke lingering throughout the house sent a spike of anger racing through him again. When he found out who was responsible for this, he was going to rip his head off and stuff it down his fucking throat. That it was one of his own men seemed impossible. A growl, part frustration, part anger tore loose.

  He shifted his knee back onto the pillow and grimaced. The joint continued to be sore, despite his careful adherence to the therapist’s orders. His experience with this minor injury was nothing compared to Zoe’s long-term struggle. God, she was tough.

  Last night, her limp had grown more pronounced. She needed to wear her brace more. She’d do well with a cane, but she’d never agree to use one. Would she still be as mobile in five years? Ten? Would she one day be in a wheel chair? Probably. His stomach clenched and he veered away from thinking about it.

  As he listened to the shower running, an urge raced through him to go down the hall and join her. That would rip aside this wall of anger and distrust that had suddenly thrust up between them. He would soap his hands and slowly run them over every inch of her skin. And end the anxious dance they were doing. She would offer him the comfort--

  God, what was he thinking? It would probably send her into a self-conscious panic, before he ever got that far. With a sigh, he ran his fingers through his close-cropped hair.

  She had to lower the barriers when she was ready. If he pressured her too much, she might push him away. But damn, it was hard to wait. He’d never had to work this hard to earn a woman’s trust.

  Did the challenge she presented have anything to do with the strength of his attraction, or was it just, Zoe? If they did hook up, would his feelings change? Would his desire plane out like it usually did?

  The shower stopped. She’d go back to Kentucky eventually. The thought, like a warning, nipped at his half-aroused state with the coldness of reason. Zoe was attached to her family, really attached. The chances she’d stay out here ran from, not very likely to no F-ing way.

  She had a life in Kentucky, a profession she was licensed to practice there. So why was he getting involved with her? There were other women with a hell-of-a lot less baggage, who would stick around. Why was he putting so much effort into wooing her?

  Because he’d been hot for her since the first time he’d seen her.

  But then what?

  Was a short-term affair what she was looking for? A little experience under her belt? A little experience--Zoe was a virgin, he’d bet his SEAL insignia on it. And he’d be her first. The term virgin territory took on a whole new meaning as he allowed the implications to sink in.

  “Jesus.” He sat up, his heart pounding as though he’d done a five-K run full out. Zoe wouldn’t give herself lightly. He was already finding that out--first hand. He was suddenly hot and hard as a cruise missile. He groaned aloud at how his own thoughts ran to cheesy puns that did nothing to relieve the pressure. But she’d still leave and he’d have to deal with it, if he got in too deep.

  A loud thump sounded from somewhere down the hall and the water glass on his nightstand shook. He shoved off the bed to his feet, her name on his lips.

  “Zoe?” he yelled louder, two long strides taking him out into the hall.

  Her silence had him swearing as he broke into a trot, his knee protested. Her room was empty, and he passed on to the bathroom door. Resting his hands on the door facing, he called through it, “You okay, Zoe?”

  “I’m okay. I just have a Charlie horse.” Her tone sounded strained. “Just give me a minute.”

  A soft groan pumped his already galloping heartbeat up a notch. “I’m coming in,” he warned as he turned the knob. She was sitting in the floor clothed in lightweight pants. He caught a glimpse of lush, well-shaped breasts before she grabbed the towel from around her hair and covered herself.

  Ignoring the immediate punch to his arousal, he knelt on the ceramic tile at her feet

  Her features were set in a pained grimace as she kneaded the muscle. “God, I hate these things.”

  He brushed aside her fingers and began to rub and massage the knotted muscle vigorously. At first hard as a baseball, it suddenly began to relax and give beneath his fingers.

  Zoe bit her bottom lip and clenched her eyes shut. When her lids finally lifted and she looked at him, he relaxed a little. “Better?”

  She nodded. “Yes. Much.” She focused on his face, her expression serious. “This is kind of a thing with me.” Her tone sounded weary.

  “You mean after being on your feet a lot?” He shifted the movements of his fingers from rough to soothing and rubbed the pant leg up to her knee. Pinkish-white scars crisscrossed her calf like cracks in a hardboiled egg. Of course, both legs would have been injured in the accident. How much worse was the other one? He knew part of the calf muscle was missing.

  “Yes.” Her gaze traveled from the leg he was caressing to his face. And for a moment, her blue eyes probed his expression.

  “I get them, too, after too much exertion.” When she remained silent he asked, “Need a ride to your room or do you want to try and get up?”

  She bit her lip. “I can get up on my own.”

  Knowing she was now out of pain, he allowed his eyes to skim over the curve of her breasts visible above the towel. She looked so delicate. He ran his fingertips along her shoulder, his thumb tracing the fragile length of her collarbone. His hand looked dark against her fair skin. Feelings of protectiveness, tenderness, and desire crashed together inside him, making his voice husky. “I’ll help you up, just in case another one hits.” Rising from his kneeling position, he offered her a hand.

  Once on her feet, Zoe rested a hand against his chest and the heat of her touch penetrated his t-shirt as though it weren’t there. When she tucked herself against him, he slipped an arm around her waist while he ran his hand down her back to the top of the low-slung pants. Her hair, still damp, smelled like vanilla. He curved a hand along her hip turning her into him, letting her feel his reaction to her. His heart took up the rapid tattoo of machine gun fire when she drew a deep breath and released it, her breasts pushing against his ribs.

  “Sometimes, the way you look at me--” she said, her voice a husky whisper.

  He knew what she meant. He’d caught a few of her unguarded looks that had grabbed him right by the libido, and left him breathless and aching.

  “I’d like to do more than just look.” He bent his head, and kissed her shoulder, his lips parted so he could taste the heat of her skin. She shivered in response and her hand curved around his neck, her fingers messaging his nape.

  “Come to bed with me, Zoe. We’ll neck, and touch each other, and make each other feel good.”

  She drew another breath and pressed closer to him. “God, I want

  to.”

  Her Kentucky accent, thickened with emotion, had him smiling.

  “But?”

  “It’s daylight.”

  “So?”

  “Hawk--You just saw some of my scars.”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “The rest are worse. I had to have skin grafts to cover some of the really bad injuries. They had to take skin from other parts of my body to do it.” She looked away. “I look like Fr
ankenstein from the waist down.”

  “A few scars aren’t going to make a difference to me, Zoe.”

  “I’ve heard that before. And it did.”

  Following some of his earlier thoughts, the idea of her being with some other guy hit him with the kick of a grenade launcher. He grasped her arm. “Who was this fool?”

  Her eyes widened in shock.

  He forced himself to release her and take a step back. “Sorry--I just-.” Just went warrior at the thought of her giving herself to some other guy. Man he was getting in deeper and deeper. He needed to pull back.

  Hadn’t Clara said something about her suddenly growing more self-conscious about her leg in college? A surge of anger had heat rising in his face. That damn creep. “He was a fool, Zoe. A damn fool.”

  Her smile started out a small twitch of her lips and spread into a full-fledged grin. “Thanks.” She rose on tiptoe to brush her lips against his cheek. “He was.”

  She turned her bare back to him, and reaching for the t-shirt draped over the towel bar, shimmied into it.

  Hawk nearly groaned aloud.

  When she faced him, her expression had grown serious. “We need to talk about last night.” She hung the damp towel over the edge of the tub and took up her brush.

  Hawk drew a deep breath. “Yeah we do.”

  She ran the wide spaced bristles through the heavy mass of hair she drew over one shoulder.

  “I’m sorry you had to be grilled by the police.”

  Zoe shook her head. “I’m more concerned that someone we know actually set off an explosive device in your house. It just started a fire this time. They could blow the whole thing up next time.”

  “There isn’t going to be a next time, Zoe.”

  “You don’t know that.“ She laid the brush on the edge of the sink and drew a deep breath. “I’ve been up half the night thinking about this. You have to turn this thing over to NCIS.”

  “I can’t do that before reporting what’s happened to my CO.”

  She remained silent, but her jaw tightened. “Where do you think Flash got the money for the car?”

  “I don’t know.” He ran his fingers over his hair. “Some of the guys work security jobs in their spare time. I know Flash has done that in the past for extra money.”

  “I know about military pay. And with the cost of living out

  here--” Zoe shook her head. “To buy a sixty thousand dollar car-- it just takes my breath away to think about it.”

  “When you’re young and single and the only one you have to support is you, you can afford to do something extravagant--I guess.”

  “You’re young and single and I don’t see you doing stuff like that. You’ve poured every dime into this house, I’m sure.”

  “My mom left me the house and she had insurance that paid the mortgage off when she died. So, I guess I’m more financially secure than most of the team. Hell, most of the platoon.”

  “So why haven’t you been snapped up by some woman hungry for security and your killer body?”

  Her casual tone sounded forced as though she was uncomfortable asking the question.

  “It’s the hazards of the job, Zoe. It takes a special woman to stick around for the long haul once they get a taste of what it’s like to be alone for twelve or fourteen months out of a two-year span. And there’s the fact that I wouldn’t be there for someone if they got sick while I was out of the country, or had an emergency. I can’t offer the emotional security a guy with a nine-to-five job can.”

  “Maybe you just haven’t met the right kind of woman then. I don’t expect my family to be there for me constantly. I take care of myself. But I know I could depend on them if something came up.” she said, her voice soft, her features averted.

  Was she saying she was the right kind of woman? Could she live with the separations, the worry that he might not come back every time he went wheels up? The secrecy. She wasn’t doing so well with his refusal to call NCIS. How was she going to do when he refused to tell her anything about their deployments? The speculation had his emotional radar jangling with alarm.

  “What will your commander do about what happened last night?”

  Probably ride his back like a forty-pound pack. “I don’t know.”

  A phone rang and Hawk turned and left the bathroom. Zoe followed.

  “I have to go out,” he said as he laid the receiver in its cradle.

  “Yes.” Her brows rose in question, her expression expectant.

  “I can’t tell you where I’m going,” he said. “You can take the car and go on to the hospital and I’ll meet you there later.”

  Her eyes searched his face then dropped away. The disappointment in her expression snagged his conscience and made him uncomfortable.

  By way of an apology, he felt compelled to say, “I’ll be at the hospital as soon as I can.”

  She gave a one-shouldered shrug. “I can handle whatever comes up at the hospital by myself. Take your time.”

  For the first time, he understood what the married members of the team went through. She viewed his not sharing as a lack of trust. He withheld information, not because he didn’t trust her, but because if she didn’t know about what he and Lang were up to, she couldn’t be compelled to testify against them.

  Damn this relationship stuff was hard.