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"I'll think of a way for you to piss me off so it will happen sooner rather than later."
She ran her fingertips over his smiling lips, along the creases by his eyes. She couldn't help herself. He was so handsome, even fatigued and pale as he was too often these past few weeks. This was going to help. It had to. She kept her tone cheerful.
"Seriously, when he brought the fabric by, he gave me a sincere, face-to-face apology. He said he knew he should have done it a lot sooner instead of sending his chickenshit text--his words, not mine, though accurate--but he'd been too embarrassed. For a few weeks after that, he'd had the jitters about doing any more rope work, because it really hit home how right you were about what could have happened."
It was Des's hand that tightened on hers this time. She saw his memory of the incident in his gaze, felt it in the strength of his hold on her. "About fucking time," he said. "Asshole." But he said it without too much rancor and, since she knew the reason he hadn't held onto his rage against the young rigger, she bit back a smile.
"Hmm." Lifting his hand to her cheek, she cupped it around her jaw so she could nuzzle it. His eyes centered on her, his fingers caressing her. Ever since the important decisions had been made, about this surgery and their relationship, things had been different between them. She didn't think it was too romantic or fanciful to call it a connection beyond words. That quiet core came with a constant, humming fullness of emotion, a bond that could only be expressed in weighted, tender, passionate stillness. She leaned in to put her lips to his, a lingering, soft gesture full of future promises. When she eased back, she didn't go far, because he'd slid his arm around her waist to keep her close.
"The 'asshole' told me you came to see him a few days after my accident," she said. "He said you introduced him to George, who mentors riggers at Logan's club, and Pablo is now learning under his supervision. I think that was the best possible balm on his feelings to help get him back on the right path."
"I wasn't doing it to make him feel better. Just to help him be better. And save lives."
"Well, that amounts to the same thing. It's when you feel like you've been written off that it's hardest to regain confidence. Not everyone has your discipline or inner strength."
"You do. Because you're here, willing to take a chance on us, even if--"
"There is no 'even if,'" she interrupted firmly. "Every relationship is fraught with risk. Ours just has a few less common ones. Some knots and loops that will bind us all the tighter, if you want me to put it in relatable terms."
His lips curved, the brown eyes lighting. "All right, Miss Stubborn. But don't make a habit of interrupting me, or I'll take a belt to you."
She sniffed. "One mule knows another. It takes a brick to get through your thick skull."
He grinned fully. "Did you slip off to give Thomas a hug when Sal there was checking my vitals?"
"I did. I gave him one from you as well, since I know you two are manly men who don't do hugs."
"You know, if I die on the table today, I won't have to worry about meeting the rest of the family."
"Yes, death would be far less terrifying than that." She made a face at him and pinched his arm. "I promise you have nothing to worry about. You'll love them, and they'll love you."
Though he'd spoken with wry humor, she knew the man who'd faced so many things that would scare the daylights out of most people was genuinely unsettled about meeting Thomas's family...Des's family. He hadn't wanted to meet them before the surgery. He hadn't really wanted to talk about why, though she expected it was because he had enough variables to juggle in his mind. She was glad that Thomas's family had accepted his decision without complaint, though Elaine had had the last word, as she often did in arguments with anyone, except Marcus.
"Elaine said to tell you she's looking forward to meeting you. She also wanted me to give you this right before you went into surgery. Now seems as good a time as any."
Julie straightened to put her arms around him and give him a firm, lingering hug. "She told me to make sure it lasted at least ten seconds, because the best hugs do," she murmured.
She saw the surprise in his face, and a mix of emotions that suggested what all was happening deep in his head wasn't as calm as it appeared on the outside. She looked down at their clasped hands, giving him a moment to manage his reaction. "She also said you don't have to worry about anyone's expectations. She just wants to meet her nephew."
"Well, regardless, best to meet afterward." Des cleared his throat. "Because if she finds me detestable, she'll wonder why the hell she's letting her boy give up a vital organ."
He said it with his usual dry wit, but Julie wondered if there was some truth to his worry. Just in case there was, she punched his abdomen and pronounced her opinion of that.
"Idiot."
He fended her off. "At least aim for one of the trashed kidneys. I might need the rest of my internal organs."
"You will."
"All right. Don't get feisty." Catching both her hands, he drew her out of her chair and startled her by dragging her onto the bed with him, so he had her cradled against his side.
"Be careful of your IV."
"It's on the other side. I've managed a pump for years. I can handle some attached tubes."
He tipped up her chin and kissed her hard, palm smoothing down her back to cup her buttocks. She'd worn snug jeans with a gauzy pink and fawn colored top over it and a camisole beneath. She was all silky curves from the waist up, and tight, thin denim below. He conveyed his appreciation with hands and mouth, until she felt arousal not only stir, but jump up a couple notches.
The last time he'd made love to her, his energy had been low, but it had been all the sweeter because they took it slow, a mutual caressing and lots of kisses that progressed to her sliding on top of him, guided by his grip, the shift of his body. He'd huskily commanded her to lower herself onto his cock. As she did, he'd wrapped his hands around her wrists, holding her in sensual restraint, her arms on either side of her, wrists pressed to her sides as she rose and fell, the pinnacle building until they shuddered through it together.
