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Tressa burst out laughing, then covered her mouth.
“Go ’head. Laugh at my pain.”
“Sorry,” she said through her fingers. “Continue, please.”
“The next day Mrs. Sanders gave me this necklace. She said it was a reminder. A reminder that she and God would always be in my corner.”
“Wow.” Tressa blinked back the tears the powerful words summoned.
Roth brushed a stray hair from her brow. “Thank you, Tressa.”
“For what?”
He captured the hand she’d used to place his over her heart and kissed the inside of her wrist, then her palm. “For sharing your energy with me.”
“It was the least I could do. You gave me a lot of your energy earlier.” Her beautiful mouth curled into a delicate smile.
“Some moments from my past…” He paused. “I carry a lot of them with me, Tressa. It gets heavy sometimes.”
“You carry the load well. You’re one of the strongest men I’ve ever met, Roth Lexington. You may have gone through hell, but you managed to come out on the right side. Your past haunts you, but…I ain’t ’fraid of no ghost.”
Roth barked a laugh. “Beautiful, funny and sexy as hell.” And one hell of a woman, because, in so many words, she’d told him she had his back.
“Yeah, you lucked out, sir. I’m the whole package. If I had a collar, I’d pop it.”
Roth dragged an index finger down the center of her chest. “If you had a collar, that would mean you were wearing a shirt. I much prefer you butt naked and screaming my name.”
“You up for showing me how much?”
“If you’re up for taking it.”
Tressa sat forward and hurried her mouth to his. He tried his damnedest to consume her whole. Roth avoided labeling what was happening between them. This powerful, intense, amazing chemistry that held him prisoner to her. Whatever it was, he prayed it never ended.
* * *
After experiencing the warmth of Roth’s arms all night, Tressa didn’t need to crack her eyes to know she was in bed alone. The chill confirmed it. Reaching for the sky, she stretched her tired muscles. She and Roth had made love in front of the fireplace several times, found their way to the bed and made love several more times.
Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she sat there for a moment, recalling her night with him. A wide smile curled her lips. The smile dimmed when she thought about the panic attack he’d had. By the look on his face, he’d been embarrassed. He never had to be ashamed in front of her. Especially over anything in his past. The light and the dark moments, she’d embrace them all.
After a trip to the restroom, Tressa slid on one of Roth’s shirts, tossing her nose up at the grandma gown he’d purchased for her at the general store and headed downstairs.
Roth was out on the deck, wearing nothing but a pair of pajama pants and a thin long-sleeved shirt. Was this the same man who’d nearly turned into a Popsicle when they’d played in the snow?
Strapping into her winter apparel—a toboggan, gloves, coat—and her boots, she joined Roth. The snow continued to fall in a steady shower, but not as heavy as the day before, suggesting it was nearing an end. The fact saddened her.
“Roth, where is your coat? You’re going to catch pneumonia out here.”
Roth bunched her coat in his hands and pulled her to him. Against her lips, he said, “I don’t get sick,” then kissed her senseless. Pulling away, he said, “Good morning.”
It took a second or two for her brain to reboot after that spine-twisting kiss. “Good morning.”
Tressa initially contributed the target warmth heating her cheeks to her body’s reaction to Roth, but then she noticed the black box affixed overhead. “What is that?”
Roth followed her stare. “An infrared heater.”
“Huh.” Why hadn’t she noticed it before? Her attention slid to the stacks of colorful construction paper scattered on the tile-top table. “Is this arts and crafts hour?”
Roth barked a laugh. “No. I like making paper airplanes.”
Considering his profession, that made sense.
“It helps clear my mind.”
Tressa was tempted to ask him what had his mind cluttered, but figured it had something to do with his nightmare. Maybe soon he’d feel comfortable enough to talk to her about his past.
