Page 18 of Save Me
He sighed heavily and nodded. “I guess I’m not as subtle as I used to be.”
She gave him a half smile. “You probably want to know about him?” He nodded and she continued. “I noticed his name and Carl’s weren’t on your list.” She motioned to his computer screen.
“They are now,” he assured her.
“Good.” She nodded and turned her eyes to the palm trees and flowers in front of them. “As much as I’d like to defend them, I just don’t have it in me any longer to stand up for men who…”
“Abused you?” he interrupted.
She jerked her head towards him. “In one way or another, yes,” she said softly. “I can admit that now. Thanks to counseling.”
“Good. Let’s start with your dad.”
“I need some wine if I’m going to open up.” She stood up. “Do you want something to drink? I have some beer.”
“Beer would be good.” He nodded and watched her go back inside. He couldn’t explain why he was so nervous about hearing her story. Maybe because he’d surmised that what she’d gone through on Collins’s property hadn’t been the worst of it. Maybe because he feared that, even though she appeared strong, she’d end up breaking, and he wouldn’t be able to piece her back together again.
He knew that counselors were trained to talk victims like her through her past. To make them feel at ease. He wasn’t a counselor. He was a cop. He was a man. He was… interested in her.
That last part jolted him. Twisted at his gut. He supposed that it was because over the past two years, a day hadn’t gone by when he hadn’t thought of her. Of finding her in that container. Of what she’d gone through. Of how she struggled to recover.
It was those thoughts that helped him get through all the troubles with the press. All the negativity he’d suffered due to his closeness to Daryl.
The one thing that had helped him through it all was that, no matter how bad he had it, he’d remind himself that Crissy had it worse. Just then Chester jumped up on the chair next to him, and he absently rubbed the cat’s soft fur. Even his cat felt more at home here, he thought.
Since returning, he’d been wondering why he’d left. He loved it here. Loved the smell, the quiet, the ease of everything.
When Crissy stepped back out onto the patio holding a glass of wine and a beer, he felt his heart jump in his chest. She’d changed into a swimsuit and had one of those white flowing coverups on, the kind that was completely see-through. It showcased her sexy body and the little red swimsuit she had pulled on.
Instantly, he knew that if he was going to get through the evening without making a move on her, he was going to have to focus strictly on business. Using all of his training, he pushed his desires, his wants, aside.
Thinking that he could easily focus on her past, on the pain she’d been through, he held himself extremely still and did everything he could to avoid looking at her in that sexy outfit. Damn. She had a sweet little body he wished more than anything he could explore and enjoy.
CHAPTER SEVEN
What did a woman have to do to get kissed? She’d gone out on a limb and had changed into the sexiest thing she had, a hot red two-piece swimsuit someone had left at the rental a few months back.
She’d hoped to detour his questions by giving him a beer and dressing in practically nothing. But instead, he took the beer and started rattling off questions about her father.
Did she know where he was? When was the last time she’d talked to him? When was the last time she’d seen him?
Brock hardly even looked in her direction. Instead, his eyes were glued to the can of beer, as if it was the most interesting thing within sight.
One thing that Dr. Rizzo had wanted her to try in her journey to recovery was to allow herself to enjoy the physical contact of others. Well, until now, she hadn’t wanted any physical contact with anyone.
Before the kidnapping, she’d loved sex. Loved every part of making love with someone she’d been in love with. Carl hadn’t been a terrible lover, just a selfish one at times. Still, she’d enjoyed being with him enough that it had stung when he’d rejected her and pretty much ignored her after she’d recovered. Oh, not in the physical sense. Instead, he’d been annoyed that she hadn’t wanted to jump right back in the sack with him.
It had taken her a while to fall out of love with Carl and she was sure that it reflected on her desires for him. Not to mention her sex drive. She was convinced that she’d lost that back in that shipping container.
Now, as she watched Brock take a swig of his beer, she imagined what it would be like to run her fingertips down his neck, over that sexy Adam’s apple of his. How it would be to feel the scruff of his short beard on her chin, her lips, while she trailed kisses over his face.
What would it be like to have his hands on her?
She may not be ready to move onto the final act, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy playing a little. Just as long as she was in control, she told herself as she continued to daydream.
“And you are no longer paying attention to me,” Brock broke into her thoughts.
Setting her wine glass down, she sighed. “Sorry, it’s been a long day. How about we take a dip before the family gets back from dinner?” She stood up. She wanted to see his face as she peeled off the coverup but lost her nerve. Instead, she walked to the edge of the pool, removed the barrier quickly, and dove in the water.
