Layers(53)

He leans back slightly and tips my chin up with his finger. “Hey, don’t. Look at me.” He says in a gentle, low voice, “It really gets me down to see you upset.” I don’t know why, but being held by him, this sudden longing for home, his words and their sincerity achieve the very opposite of his intention, and a single tear rolls down my cheek.

“Hales,” he breathes and hugs me tight, pulling me to the center of his firm chest, to the core of his Daniel scent.

Hales. That’s the first time he’s called me that. Until now, the only people to use that nickname were my family, Tasha, and Ian. That is all it takes to trigger additional tears. What’s going on with me? I don’t do crying. Get a hold of yourself, and fast. Stop! Now!

“Don’t cry,” he murmurs to my hair, clearly concerned. He wraps me tighter in his embrace, fluttering at the top of my head with light kisses.

“I’m not crying, it’s just these stupid allergies,” I say, trying to stifle the tears with an awkward smile. The tiniest smile briefly appears on his lips.

“Hey, Hales.” He gently brushes my tears with his thumb, and this sudden gloom of mine evolves into something else, something deeper and different, that fully takes me by surprise. My heart twinges and these sudden new emotions that swirl in me are almost an ache. I think I’m falling for you, D.




Leaning back, his eyes search mine, assessing my emotions. Slowly his lips turn into the warmest smile; I smile back, feeling timid for my childish outburst. He bends toward me, inclines his head, allowing his mouth to meet mine. In the instant in which our mouths unite my tongue possesses him, eager and hungry to have and to taste, to breathe him, I devour the very depth of him.

He holds my head with both hands, resting his forehead against mine, and with closed eyes he murmurs, “You overwhelm me. You are so incredibly sweet.”

My heart altogether quivers, trembles and rattles. And you, me, D. Entirely.

“I am famished,” he says next, huskily, in my ear.

“Can’t and will not let you starve,” I giggle, though I find it way too hard to release him, so I don’t.

“Hmm, this is the part where you let go of me.” He laughs croakily, his arms still around me.

“Can’t, sorry. Tried. No can do.” I grin, shrugging, and secure my hold of his waist firmer. Amused, he thinks for a moment, and then his right hand lets go of me and reaches for one of the plates, sliding it closer to us. With just one hand he twirls a fork through the small mound of spaghetti, skillfully rolling the long noodles around it. Seaming pleased with the result, he brings the little portion to my mouth.

“I like you improv.” I beam at him, caressing his waist as I open my mouth for the forkful he offers.

“Mmm, divine.”

He stares at me with glee.

Mmm, you are divine.

Repeating the action, this time he brings the fork to his own mouth, then to mine again, never breaking our physical connection.

“When was the last time you visited your family?” he asks the next time he feeds me, watching me, waiting for me to swallow.

“It was more than six months ago.”

“And you miss them a lot, I’m guessing.”

“Yes I do, awfully.”

He brings another forkful to his mouth. “Why don’t you visit them more often, then?”

Because I can’t afford it. Newsflash, not everyone is rolling in money.

“I’m planning to visit in a couple of weeks,” I say instead. “I’m looking forward to that, though the fact that my brother won’t be there overshadows the anticipation a bit.”

Chewing another bite, he observes me with attentive eyes. “You have a brother? Where is he?”

“Yes, Steven. He’s four years younger than me. He’s a combat medic deployed in Afghanistan.”

Daniel’s left arm tightens around me as he asks, “When does he come home?”

“Three more months to go,” I say matter-of-factly. I can’t avoid the familiar chill of dread I get each time I think of Steven there. Between bites of the next forkful he brings to my mouth I manage to ask him if he has any siblings.

“No, it’s just my mom and me,” he answers in a low voice, somewhat effected, bringing another bite to my waiting mouth.

“What’s the story with your dad?”

He exchanges plates, pushing aside the finished one and sliding the full one next to us. Twisting the fork in the spaghetti he reluctantly answers, “The miserable excuse for a man by whom I was conceived isn’t relevant, Hayley.”

“You seem tense enough for him to have some effect on you. Doesn’t seem so irrelevant to me.” I bite my lips as I notice his mood quickly alter.

“Is it that important to you?” He looks at me, irritated, his mouth twists, and his grip of me loosens significantly, though I’m glad he doesn’t completely let go.

“You’re becoming important to me. Therefore, all information related to you is equally interesting and significant.”

His frozen gaze mellows a notch. I lean my head forward to kiss him, reaffirming what I’ve just said. His embrace is firmer again; grateful, I smile inside, noticing.

“The coward I used to call dad when I was very young left when I was still a kid.” A muscle starts working in his jaw, accompanied by smoldering eyes. Forcing a breath, he continues.