Page 23 of Finding Lexie
“I believe that you mean that right now, in this situation, yes,” she said diplomatically.
She felt him shake his head. “I wish your dad was still alive. I would’ve liked to pay him a visit and tell him what an idiot he was.”
Lexie laughed. She couldn’t help it.
“What?” he asked.
“My dad wouldn’t care. He never cared what people thought about him.”
“My parents would love you,” Midas told her.
Lexie jolted slightly. “What? No.”
“They would,” he insisted. “They’re always telling me I don’t smile enough. They complain that I’m not nice enough to people. I mean, I’m not an asshole, but I don’t go out of my way to befriend people, and my job has made me cynical and a little untrusting. You? You’re nice to everyone. They’d love you.”
Lexie didn’t know what to say to that. She shifted in Midas’s arms and winced when a bead of sweat rolled down her temple. The scrubs she had on felt damp from the heat and sweat, and the shower she’d taken recently felt as if it was forever ago.
“You okay?” Midas asked.
“Just hot. But that’s better than shot or re-kidnapped,” she said quickly.
“Always looking on the bright side of things,” Midas said lightly.
“It doesn’t help to be negative all the time,” she told him. “All that does is make the situation seem worse.”
“True.”
“I mean, there could be bugs in this hole,” she said, then felt Midas shiver under her.
“I hate bugs,” he said.
Lexie couldn’t help but laugh. “The big bad SEAL hates bugs?” she asked.
“Yup. I’ll take snakes and alligators, and even bats over bugs.”
“Bugs in general don’t bother me,” Lexie admitted. “They’re actually kind of fascinating. But I can’t stand cockroaches. Those things give me the creeps.”
“How’re your feet?” Midas asked after a minute or two.
Lexie let out a sigh.
“What?”
“You change subjects faster than anyone I’ve ever met. One second we’re talking about bugs, then you’re asking about my feet.”
“I’ll give you a little insight into my mind,” he said. “We were talking about bugs, which got me to thinking about the sand flea bites you have from the desert. Which led me to thinking about the hospital and how happy you looked after your shower. And then I started thinking about how much I liked your hair. It seems to have a mind of its own. Then I recalled how happy you were to have the scrubs to put on, when a lot of people would be upset they didn’t have their own clothes. Which made me remember how smooth your skin was when I put in the IV, and finally, your skin made me think about your feet without shoes as we escaped from the hospital. I can’t sit up and examine them myself right now because, well, neither of us can move even an inch in this coffin-like space, so I decided to at least ask how your feet felt.”
“Um…wow. Okay. That actually made sense. They’re okay. I haven’t worn shoes in a long time. I mean, I had flip-flops, but they were cheap and hurt my feet. So I went without them most of the time. My soles are tough, and honestly, I was more concerned about getting away from the people who were willing to set off explosives in a freaking hospital than about my feet.”
“Right. I’ll look at them when we get out of here.”
“When we get out of here, we’ll probably need to get to your team. There won’t be time to have a sit-down and put a bandage on my booboos,” she told him.
“So you admit that you’re hurt? Where? What hurts? Maybe we can wiggle around to—”
“I’m fine, Midas, seriously. And we can’t wiggle anywhere.”
He sighed. After a moment, he said, “You called me Midas.”
