Since she'd told him about Hawk and her, he'd had some doubts. Then he thought about how they’d acted at breakfast a few days ago, as if nothing had ever happened and he'd felt better. Then he swore at himself for acting like a stupid grade schooler with his first crush.

Opening the front door, he stood back and let her enter before him. She snickered and walked past him. Once inside, the lights clicked on and she set her bag on the floor alongside the sofa and looked around. The overly large fireplace he had in the middle of the far wall was certainly the focal point and masterpiece in the room. Good thing ‘cause there was little else in it.

He'd used a large 8 x 8 beam from a barn back home for the mantle and stone he'd picked from the river in his backyard.

"Wow, that's impressive."

"Pieces of home and pieces of here." He replied as he pointed to the mantle and the rocks. "It works and makes me think it's meant to be."

"That's pretty nice."

He tossed his keys on a table next to the door and walked into the kitchen, which was open to the living room. "Anyway, not sure if you want to shower, I know I do. And, since you don't cook, I can toss a casserole into the oven that Megan made for me. That way we can eat."

"She's your nurse and she cooks for you?"

Chuckling he turned and looked into her eyes. Even a few feet away he could see the clarity in them. There was a pull between them, an unexplainable pull and even if he lived to be a thousand years old, he'd never be able to explain it.

"She and Skye both feel sorry for me. When they make big meals, they make extra and freeze it. Every so often I'm gifted with casseroles, lasagnas, baked breads, and cookies. Little do they know that I can cook, but I'm keeping that a secret." He winked and a smile grew across her gorgeous face.

"That's lying by omission."

"I suppose." He stood in place as she slowly walked toward him. "You gonna tell?"

She laughed. "Well, if we enjoy spending time with each other, that would be stupid. I've told you I don't cook. That's not even a little lie. I. Do. Not. Cook. Ever. Good thing you can."

He reached out with is right hand and cupped the back of her head, pulling her closer to him. Staring into her eyes he saw so much in them. His heart pounded in his chest like a prisoner trying to get out and his cock grew and thickened as he struggled with which one to pay attention to more. Inhaling her scent, she still smelled fresh and clean even after running through gunpowder and the woods. Crazy.

Bending his head he kissed her lips, slow, soft, moving his lips over hers the temperature in the room rose and his skin dampened, every time a sigh or a moan escaped from her. Her hands grabbed his shirt on both sides and if it weren't for his damned lame arm between them, he'd love nothing more than to feel her breasts tight against his chest.

Tilting his head he fit his lips over hers and deepened the kiss. The taste of her tongue was sweet, the warmth felt like home and the softness like a feather bed.

She pulled back and all he felt was loss. "I would like to jump in the shower if you don't mind."

Her cheeks were flushed but it only enhanced her beauty. She wasn't a sweet innocent by any stretch of the imagination, but what she was, was perfect for him. Tough, resilient, strong and yet a woman that he hoped would be in his life for a longtime.

Clearing his throat, he said, "Absolutely, follow me."

Walking through the kitchen, she grabbed her bag as they entered the living room and he led her down a short hallway past two doorways which were a spare bedroom and his office. Then, he turned and flipped on the light to his bedroom, and stepped aside as she entered before him.

"Again, no decorations but at least I have blinds, though there's no one out here." He stepped into the room and passed her to turn on the bathroom light. "But I do have an amazing bathroom."

He watched as she took everything in. The masculine brown marbled tiles on the walls and in the shower, the over-sized shower heads and shower with the glass door. Wooden benches made from the same 8 x 8 beams he'd used for the mantle were both rich and handsome in this room.

She gasped. "This is fantastic."

"Thanks." He was proud of this part of his house. He was proud of the whole house, but this was the room he enjoyed.

Running her hand along the tiles on the walls, he watched her eyes as they lit up with delight. Her fingers ran over the long counter that held two copper sinks.

Stopping to look at him, the smile on her face was hard to decipher but the word pleased came to mind. He cleared his throat. "I'll go throw a casserole into the oven so we can eat."

"Wait." She stopped him from leaving with her hand on his arm. "What do you need to do for your arm to shower?"

"Ahh..." He scraped his right hand through his hair. "I need to keep a bandage over it and not soak it under the spray. Then change it when I get out."

Nodding she replied with a smile. "That I can help with. Show me your first aid kit."

Walking to the large floor to ceiling cabinet along the opposite wall from the shower he opened the top door and pulled down a blue first aid kit. He turned to set it on the counter but she gently took it from his hands. Laying it on the counter she opened it up and looked through the contents as she said over her shoulder. "Take your shirt off and I'll bandage it up with large amount of Vaseline to keep it from becoming saturated and a new bandage."

"What makes you think that is appropriate?"

She turned and locked eyes with him and he swallowed. Slowly stalking toward him she lifted her t-shirt and pulled it off her body. His mouth grew dry and his heartbeat picked up a faster new rhythm. Turning only slightly she pointed to a scar in her side, just above her hip. "I was shot right here ten years ago." Placing her booted foot on the bench alongside him, she untied her laces and quickly took her boot off. Pointing to another scar she said, "Knife wound from an asshole during a mission in California six years ago."

Pulling her other boot off she began unbuttoning her jeans and lowering the zipper. "I have more scars that I can show you, but I'm thinking we should take a shower."

She stepped from her jeans, bent over and picked them up, folded them and lay them on the counter. Doing the same with her t-shirt he took in her body. Flawless olive skin, if you didn't count the scars, lay lovingly over toned muscles all forming a body which he assumed would be stellar, but seeing her in the flesh, pun intended, was more than he'd even thought she would be.

Turning back to him she said, "I'd like to see you to, Tarzan."

Releasing the Velcro on his sling, he gently pulled it off and lay it on the bench next to him. His shirt was a bit more of a struggle as he tried pulling it from his back and over his head. She neared him and gently pulled the neckline over his head, holding it firmly in place so it didn't jostle his wound. Once his right arm was clear of the offending material, she slowly removed the t-shirt from his left arm.

She folded it, like her own and lay it on top of her clothes and his heart swelled.

"Hold still, Tarzan." It wasn't a demand, but maybe a command? Anyway, who was he not to listen to orders? He stood and she unbuttoned his jeans, lowered the zipper and chuckled a bit as her hand moved over his thickening cock.

Tugging on his waistband, she lowered his jeans to the floor and waited as he stepped from each leg. She repeated the same motions she'd done with their other clothing. Once she stepped before him she lay her hands on his bare chest, careful not to touch the bandage and let her hands smooth over his chest, circling his nipples with her thumbs, then floating down his abs, gently teasing his skin along the waistband of his briefs. He wrestled with wanting to watch her and closing his eyes to enjoy the feel of her hands on him. Her fingers were firm as she touched him, but her hands were surprisingly soft. He'd expected them to be roughened by the way they worked. She was a plethora of surprises. The most surprising right now was the slight tremor he felt in her hands. She didn't strike him as the type to get so excited over sex.

"Tarzan, you're a sexy man." She purred.

Swallowing first he replied. "You're a sexy woman, Little Mama."