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"Nothing. My mouth got away from me again."
"For God's sake, Rachel, could you just try to shoot straight with me for once!" He stalked away.
She frowned. He was as prickly as rusted barbed wire. She finished buttoning her dress as she followed him back to the kitchen, where he'd yanked on a Chicago Stars cap and was shoving on his sunglasses, obviously having forgotten that it was drizzling outside.
She walked over to him. Her full skirt brushed against the legs of his jeans, and she resisted the urge to curl her arm around his waist. "People talk to you as if they're afraid you're going to break apart at any minute. I don't think that's good for you; it keeps you from moving forward. You're a strong man. Everyone needs to remember that, including you."
"Strong!" He ripped off the sunglasses and sent them skittering across the counter. "You don't know anything about it." His cap hit the counter, then bounced to the floor.
She didn't back away. "You are, Gabe. You're tough."
"Don't confuse me with you!"
His footsteps punished the marble floor as he stalked past her and headed for the family room.
She'd been alone with pain too often herself to even think about letting him go. The family room was empty, but the sliding doors that led to the deck were open. As she walked toward them, she saw him standing outside clutching the railing as he stared up at Heartache Mountain.
The drizzle had changed to light rain, but he didn't seem to notice that he was getting wet. Beads of water glistened in his hair and darkened the shoulders of his T-shirt. She'd never seen anyone who looked lonelier, and she stepped out into the rain with him.
He gave no indication that he heard her coming up behind him, so that she wasn't quite prepared when he spoke. "I keep a gun by my bed, Rachel. And it's not there for protection."
"Oh, Gabe…"
Every part of her wanted to touch him and offer what comfort she could, but he seemed surrounded by an invisible barrier, one she was afraid to cross. Instead, she moved next to him and lay her arms over the wet railing. "Does it get any easier?"
"It was easier for a while. Then you showed up." "I've made it more difficult for you?"
He hesitated. "I don't know anymore. But you've changed things."
"And you don't like that."
"Maybe I like it too much." He finally turned to her. "I guess these past couple of weeks have been a little better. You've been a distraction."
She gave him a weak smile. "I'm glad."
He scowled, but there wasn't any real anger behind it. "I didn't say you'd been a good distraction. Just a distraction."
"I understand." Rain soaked her dress, but it was warmer out here than inside the air-conditioned house, and she wasn't cold.
"I miss her all the time." His eyes searched her face, and his voice grew deeper, huskier. "So why do I want you so much that I ache with it?"
The rumble of distant thunder accompanied his words, almost seemed part of them. A tremor passed through her. "I think… I think we've been drawn together by desperation."
"I can't give you a damn thing except sex."
"Maybe that's exactly what I need from you."
"You don't mean that."
"You don't know what I mean." Being so close was suddenly overwhelming, and she turned her back to him. Crossing her arms over her chest, she moved to the other side of the deck. Overhead, the sky hung low, while mist clung to the mountains like a tattered gray prom dress.
"I had my womanhood stolen from me, Gabe. On my wedding night he gave me a lecture right from the nineteenth century on how my body was God's vessel, and he'd disturb it as little as possible. He made me lie there. He didn't touch my breasts or caress me. He just pushed himself inside me. It hurt like hell, and I started to cry, and the more I cried the happier that made him because it was proof of my virtue, proof that I wasn't carnal like him. But that wasn't true. I'd been fascinated by sex for as long as I could remember. So don't try to tell me what I want."
"All right. I won't."
The deep sympathy in his voice was too much for her. She turned and frowned at him. "I don't know why I'm talking to you about this, why I'm even thinking about having sex with you. Considering, my luck with men, you're probably as big a dud in bed as he was."
One corner of his mouth lifted in a faint smile. "Could be."
