TWELVE

Zane walked into Olivia's studio and added the elegant line of her neck to the growing list of attributes he found fascinating. A list that told him he was in the deepest kind of trouble. Two days had passed since they'd become intimate, and his hunger for her company had taken on a life of its own.

Would he ever be satiated?

He cleared his throat and watched her turn with a happy smile. "Hey, Liv."

"Hi, handsome."

He looked over his shoulder. "Who ya talking to?"

"You, silly!"

"When was the last time you had your eyes checked?"

"Two months ago." She bit her bottom lip. "And I have near-perfect vision."

"Don't know how that's possible," he muttered, gripping the door frame. "I wanted to let you know I'll be in the yard working on the Ferris wheel."

Tipping her head, she frowned. "Well, that's disappointing." She stood and held out her hand. "I thought you came by to make out and…stuff."

He took her outstretched hand and pulled her into his chest. "Really?"

"Well, yeah."

Closing his eyes, he soaked in the pleasure of her touch. "Liv, you've got a deadline, and I…

"Can't wait another minute to do the naughty things we didn't get to the other night?"

"No!" He stepped back. "Don't distract me, woman."

She stepped forward. "Party pooper."

"That's not what you said when we were on round three."

"That was more than twenty-four hours ago." She pressed her hand against his chest. "The memory has faded, and I can barely recall what it felt like to have you…"

He covered her mouth. "You've got to have some mercy, babe." Looking up, he let out a groan. "I'm trying to do the right thing."

"Jumping each other is the right thing!" She let out a huff. "What's the point of having a sexy neighbor if you can't take advantage of it on the odd Wednesday afternoon?"

Unchartered territory was the only way to describe his current situation. "I thought we were supposed to do stuff with our clothes on so we can build a relationship. Why are you trying to thwart my efforts?"

"Relationship?"

He ignored the disappointment that tried to bloom. "Said with the same enthusiasm as tax preparation." Lifting her hand, he pressed a kiss to it. "I thought that word would've been met with a shit-ton more enthusiasm." Her mouth pinched into a firm line, and he didn't know why the idea of them communicating with words and not their bodies was so unappealing. "Talk to me, Liv. What's going on in that mind of yours?"

"It's just that…"

Holding himself still, he tried not to assume the worst.

Had he said too much? Too little?

The rules were a mystery, and he felt exposed.

"I don't want to make more of it than there is." She ran her hand over his T-shirt. "I think we're best suited for a fling."

"Are you saying that because you're protecting yourself or because you have no desire to get to know me?" An unnamed feeling kicked up in his gut. Was this what vulnerability felt like?

"I won't pick up the scissors and make myself smaller."

Lifting her chin, he studied the concern in her eyes. "I'm not asking you to do that."

"You said I was a complication." Stepping back, she twisted her hands together. "And you weren't interested in my chaos. Which certainly suggests that you'd like to see a tamer version," she grumbled. "Which, for the record, is not available."

"I like the full 3-D version of you." He lifted her into his arms and collapsed on the small couch. "I got spooked because trying and failing can be soul-shattering, and let's face it, mine is still in pieces."

"You're not the only one who is Scotch-taped together." She ran her fingers over his scars. "Just because I don't bear physical marks doesn't mean I'm not fragile too."

"You seem indomitable."

"Well, I'm not. I just put on a better show than you."

He picked at a loose string on her shorts. "I'm about the worst bet there is, Liv. My mental health is sketchy at best, and my experience making another human happy is all but non-existent." The tension in her muscles eased. "I'd like to keep the door open, though, and see if hanging out together could lead to something."

"Why?" she asked, covering his hand. "What made you change your mind?"

"You make me want to do better. And I think that's got to mean something." He fixed the silk bow in her hair. "I want to touch more than your body, Liv."

"Really?"

"Yes. I'd like to earn the privilege of hearing your stories." Dipping his head, he let his mouth rest against hers. "The good ones." He kissed her slowly. "And the hard ones." Her hand fisted into his T-shirt. "I'm trying to get comfortable with uncertainty. I figure most people are just winging it and trying to mitigate the risks. Waiting until you know how things will work out is a coward's play. And believe it or not, that's not what I am."

"Are you suggesting a leap of faith?" she whispered.

"Yeah. A big ass jump into the unknown." He covered her hand, praying for a positive response. "What do you think?"

"I suppose we could hang out for a while."

"Okay." He kissed her head and told himself to take the win. "That's good, Liv."

Real good.

Olivia rested her head against Zane's chest and didn't know what to make of the latest plot twist. Why was he making noise about a relationship? It simply didn't make sense since he wanted no part of her several days ago.

Mentally stomping on the tiny hope that tried to unfurl, she knew that his tune would change the minute their sexual chemistry fizzled. Something she expected to happen within a matter of days.

Unless her grumpy warrior was capable of the best magic trick of all.

No, that was too unlikely to contemplate. He certainly wasn't going to be the one to give her the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe. Zane Hawker was the last man on earth who'd allow her the luxury of having to neither weigh thoughts nor measure words.

Laughing silently, she knew that any man who said leave me alone one minute and let's go for it the next wouldn't likely stick around and make the investment necessary. He was clearly swimming in happy sex hormones and would be sated before too long. Feeling mildly satisfied with the explanation, she listened to the clock tick and mentally poked at the familiar dull pain in her chest.

How much does it still hurt? A question she'd asked herself nearly every day of the last five years. One of the therapists she'd seen early on said it was a coping mechanism that survivors utilized—a way not to forget.

Should she share the story with Zane?

Would he be interested in the event that shaped her into who she was today?

She'd been poking, prodding, and picking at his story since they'd met, and he could very well feel the need to return the favor at some point.

Not because he genuinely wanted to know her, of course. But because giving up valuable intel wasn't what an operator did. And despite some evidence to the contrary, he was still very much a soldier.

Why had she been so insistent on asking a hundred questions?

Sucking in a breath, she realized it was because she wanted to know him. In every way. A thing that hadn't happened since Thad. A dull pain spiked in her chest with the admission, and she twisted her fingers together.

Zane sat up. "You feel like telling me about whatever made you stiffen and suck in a breath?"

Darn it!

She loosened her limbs and pushed her mouth into a smile. "I'm just excited about the prospect of bringing the Ferris wheel back to life."

"You didn't put effort into that lie, so try again."

"I should get back to work." She heaved herself off his lap and felt a large hand land on her leg. "Lots to do."

He arched an eyebrow. "And yet, five minutes ago, you wanted to spend hours doing dirty things to one another."

"Mutually satisfying physical relations between consenting adults isn't dirty."

"Unless it's done right." He tugged her hand.

Knowing he had the tenacity of a bull and the patience of a Siberian tiger, she turned slowly and silently cursed his flashing eyes. "The ride won't fix itself."

Zane stood. "Something has you spooked, and the sooner I know what it is, the better."

"For whom?"

He lifted a picture off the bookcase. "I'm guessing it has something to do with this."

She watched him study the photo and knew there was no mistaking how much the man in the picture meant to her. "That's Thad. We were college sweethearts and completely in love."

"Were?" Zane asked quietly.

"Yes." She looked down at the worn wooden floor. "We were driving home from grad school with our lives stretched out before us with a hundred possibilities. We had so many plans." The familiar boulder of pain moved slightly in her chest. "We were hit by a drunk driver." She closed her eyes. "Bones crushed. Organs twisted into something unrecognizable." Tears threatened to spill, and she swallowed loudly. "I survived. Thad didn't."

Zane set the picture down carefully, and she tried to fill her lungs with air. "He had a ring in his bag."

"I'm so sorry, Liv."

"I don't think you get more than one great love. He was likely mine." Twisting her rings, she breathed slowly. "There wasn't a part of me that he didn't accept. Every quirk, foible, and annoying habit. He took it all in stride and loved me with every bone in his body."

Zane's features tightened, and she took his outstretched hand. "Sounds like a tragedy, doesn't it?"

"Sure does."

"It's not. Some people don't get one shot at that kind of happiness." His long fingers covered hers. "I decided long ago to appreciate what I had and make the most of surviving the accident."

"I had a feeling there was a reason."

"For what?"

"You're a tornado of gratitude and happiness." Lifting her hand, he folded it in his. "That usually doesn't happen unless you survived something horrific."

She glanced up. "Does that mean I should see your storm of positivity soon since you're a survivor too?"

Cupping her cheek, he bit back a smile. "You never know what kind of miracles are in the offing."

Feeling lighter than she had in a long time, she was reminded that the world didn't stop spinning when the words were said aloud—when she talked about the man who showed her what love looked like. "You have a well of untapped kindness, Zane." A full smile broke across his handsome face, and nothing could've prepared her for how warm it made her feel.

"I knew this talking thing was a good idea."

"Talking naked is good too."

"You keep saying things like that, and I'm gonna think you're only interested in my body."

"You make it sound like a bad thing."

"Never count me out, Liv." He kissed her head. "Because I'm likely to surprise the hell out of you at some point."

"I look forward to it."

She rubbed her cheek against the soft cotton of his T-shirt and questioned why the phantom of love lost didn't seem to hang around when they were together. Was a second chance at happiness available down the road?

And was the man whose heart was beating against hers going to help her find it?

She closed her eyes and decided the idea was absurd.

Lucy leaned against the screen door and shook her head. "Good Lord, does Zane wear that indecent smile every time he works on the disaster in your yard?"

Olivia handed her sister a glass of iced tea. "Not really." Heat bloomed in her lady bits, and she tried not to appear like a Cheshire cat.

"Oh, jeez…you sexed him up before I got here, and that's why he looks like a contented lion."

"Siberian tiger."

"What?"

"A Siberian tiger is the most patient animal in existence, and that's what Zane is." She sipped her tea. "Until he's not."

"If I weren't so happy for you, I'd be a tad bit jealous."

"Nothing to be envious about." She lifted her glass in Zane's direction. "This little entanglement has disaster written all over it." Closing her eyes, she let out a sigh. "The embers of hope flared earlier but sadly are about to fizzle out."

"Who are you? My sister of immaculate positivity would never say anything like that."

"Reality is scratching at my door, and I'm not fool enough to ignore it for very much longer." She collapsed on the step. "Between Zane's PTSD, fear of intimacy, and desire to become the world's loneliest recluse and my near maniacal need to avoid complete devastation, we may only have another week of happiness, tops."

Lucy dropped down on the step and took a moment to arrange her full skirt. "What if…"

Olivia glanced at her sister. "Even my positivity can't come up with a happy ending."

"I assume you're planning to enjoy the ride for as long as possible, then?"

"Yes."

"What about those pesky feelings you've never had before? How are you going to rationalize those away?"

"Still working on it."

"Any reason why you wouldn't simply give into them?"

Olivia looked into her sister's eyes. "Do you remember how long it took for me to function after Thad passed?"

"Of course."

"I have a feeling that if I allowed myself to fall in love with Zane, and he ran away in response, then the outcome would be far more devastating."

"Oh."

"But I won't let that happen, so no need to worry." Olivia laced their hands together. "Enough about my nonsense. How are you?"

"Good."

"Why does that response scare me?" She swept Lucy's beautiful red hair over her shoulder. "You live life out loud and only use the word good when describing toast…or the dentist…or car repair."

"Peaceful. How's that?"

"If our sister Callie said it, then I'd say fantastic. But it's you, and peaceful is not one of your favorite adjectives."

"But it could be." Lucy turned. "Maybe maturity is finally getting ahold of me, and the need to live on the edge is no longer as strong." She flattened her hands against her waist. "I'm thirty-two and don't need…"

"Yes, you do," Olivia said firmly. "Denying your true nature never lasts for long. Your purple-blue aura won't allow it."

"We'll see."

Olivia knew that saying more wouldn't change her sister's mind since no one was stronger willed. If she needed to pursue a more peaceful path for a while, then so be it. Though how it would last for longer than a week, she couldn't say.

She studied Zane in the distance, reminding herself that accepting the true nature of someone was best. No matter what messages your heart was sending.

What you see is what you got.

Not what you want.