Way of the Warrior (Troubleshooters #17.5)(22)

“Men like him don’t give up.” He swung his feet to the ground again, sitting on the edge of the hammock. He reached for her arm, only missing by a hint, and God help her, she couldn’t stop herself from leaning toward his hand to make contact.

“Gavin, I don’t have any other choice.”

“Yes, you do.” He squeezed her arm. “Let’s flush out the bastard and put him in jail.”

? ? ?

Just the feel of Stacy’s arm threatened to shatter Gavin’s self-control.

Since losing his sight, the rest of his senses had gone into hyperdrive. Right now, he wanted nothing more than to soak up everything he could about Stacy to make up for the fact that he couldn’t feast his eyes on her. The silky softness of her fingertips set his nerves alive. Her strawberry scent made him want to bury his face in her hair and just breathe.

But the fear in her voice held him back from acting on those impulses. She needed him. The way she talked about having no choice except to move away leveled him. He, of all people, knew how important it was for her to stay here in her hometown. When he’d left, he’d been convinced she would follow him. He’d kept tabs on her, waiting, until the day he’d learned she?d married Jared Lewis, a local rich guy who could offer her the home and stability she’d always craved.

Gavin had thought it best to let her go. If he’d put aside his pride and maintained the friendship, she would have had someone to turn to. Guilt hammered him. He had to keep her safe and to do that, he needed to remove the threat. Permanently.

“Let’s go inside and talk. Bring me up to speed on everything that happened with him, where he’s been living, where he might be now.”

“Just like that you and I are a team again? It’s not that simple.” He could picture her shaking her head.

“For me, it is.”

“Then why didn’t you call me when you came back?”

“Because I didn’t want your pity,” he said through gritted teeth.

“I thought we covered that already. And if I’m hearing you clearly, you’re saying it’s not okay for you to need me. But it’s fine for me to need you.”

“Yep, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“That is such a macho load of crap.”

He stood, resting his hand on the handle attached to Radar’s collar. He loved his dog and hated that he needed him, especially now, in front of Stacy. “Anastasia, are you coming inside with me or not?”

Without waiting for her to answer since standing around without being able to see her face was tearing him up inside, he started walking toward the back door. After three strides, he heard her follow with a sigh of exasperation. He mentally counted the paver stones on his way to the back door, then the three steps leading into the duplex, including the last step that was shorter than the others. He ducked his head and entered the kitchen, aware of Stacy following.

She stopped in the middle of the tile floor. “I brought the lemonade back inside. It shouldn’t go to waste. Do you mind if I get glasses from the cabinet and pour us each a fresh drink?”

Stacy always did babble when she was nervous.

“Sure, go ahead. I have ham and cheese sandwiches in the fridge, already made.” He hadn’t wanted her to see him fumble around. He was getting better at making his way through the world, but there was so much unpredictability. Knowing he wouldn’t be able to read her face put him at a disadvantage. Did she hate him for leaving? Or worse yet, was she indifferent?

So many years wasted holding a grudge over their last fight, the ultimatums issued in their tiny studio apartment. If he’d swallowed his pride, he could have helped her. He could have seen her at least one more time before going blind. “We can talk about a plan to prevent a repeat of last night.”

“You’re serious.” Ice clinked from the pitcher into the glasses as he heard her fill two of them.

He paused at the refrigerator. “Do you doubt I can help you? Because I’m blind?”

“No,” she said with a quick assurance. “I doubt because I’ve seen how determined he is. Nothing I do makes a difference. Can we talk about something else instead? Just…catch up? Be two normal friends who haven’t seen each other in years?”

Could they pull that off? He might have thought so twenty-four hours ago. Now that she’d touched him, now that he’d heard her voice again? His feelings for her were so much fiercer than friendship.

But he would play along for the moment, if that’s what she wanted. “Sure, have a seat and I’ll get the sandwiches. Do you still like grapes?”

“I do, thank you.” The chair scraped against the floor as she sat at his wooden table.

He used the old furniture from his apartment before the accident. Familiar items helped ground him as he figured out how to build images without sight.

“Your dog is magnificent.”

“His name is Radar.” Gavin pulled out the Tupperware container of sandwiches. He preferred mayo, but since he remembered she liked spicy mustard, he’d just made them all the same. He set the food in the middle of the table, then picked up the colander of grapes, added two plates, and took a seat beside her. All without tripping or dropping a thing.

He felt the brush of Stacy’s fingers an instant before she pressed the glass of lemonade into his hand. The heat of resentment almost matched the heat of desire flaming from that simple touch.