Chapter Twenty-two
Josh lay on the furry rug in Candy’s office, thinking about her traits. “For starters,” Josh began, “that’s why you’re so damn strong. You’ve excelled more than ninety-nine percent of the men, and it makes even more sense why we’re true ma—” Shit. He’d almost said “mates.” No way was she ready for that info. Damn, this relationship would’ve ended before it got started. “Sorry, I misspoke. I meant to say, it hints at why you’re in the military.” He stressed the pronoun, hoping she’d forget about the word “true.”
“What’s that got to do with anything?” she asked.
How did he explain shifters to a newbie to their world? “Shifters are survivors. They can fight their way out of just about anything. Nothing scares them.” He pointedly looked at her. “Sound familiar?”
Candy rolled her eyes. “Yeah, whatever, what else does it say about me?”
“A lot of shifters are adrenaline junkies. Sometimes they do things just for the rush.”
She thought about the medevacs from the battlefield and front line. Did she crave the rush? Hell, even the time she picked up the SF boys. “What does SF stand for?” she asked.
“Shifter forces.”
“Seriously? That’s it?” By the dramatic way those groups were talked about and treated, she figured it was big Latin or Greek words standing for “almost a god to everyone else.”
She became lost in thoughts. Thoughts that caused her emotional pain. His wolf jumped forward wanting to console their mate, make everything all right, make her happy. “Where are you, Candy?” he whispered. “What do you see?”
She shook her head, coming back to the present. “Nothing. Just childhood stuff.” He noted her shiny eyes that went along with her smell. She didn’t want to talk about her past, so it had to have been difficult. What had she survived? “Tell me about yourself,” Josh said, taking a different route.
“Dear god, this sounds like an interview for a corporate job,” she said. They laughed lightly. “I don’t know. I’m pretty boring. Enlisted when I was eighteen. Made sergeant quicker than most females who earn that rank.” She shrugged.
“What is your job?” he asked, wondering about her shifter blood.
“Until this job, I flew medical evacuations during combat.”
“Shit,” he said. “Talk about adrenaline rush. You were all over that.”
She smiled. “Yes, I was. I loved it. Miss it sometimes.”
He asked, “Do you have a lot of family?”
“No. I have a younger brother and sister. My mother died when I was twelve. I don’t know if my father is alive or not. Don’t care either.” There was that agony he kept smelling. It had to do with her past.
Putting a bit of calming control in his voice, he said, “Why don’t you care if he’s dead?” He needed to be very careful not to scare her away, but he needed to know what had happened if he was to help her. If she truly didn’t want to answer, he wouldn’t force her.
It drove him crazy when a woman said nothing was wrong when it was obviously the opposite. If he didn’t know what he did wrong, how could he change it? Women thought men should be able to read their minds and just know. But Sheldon was so right. Women were way more complex than men, too much shit always floating in their heads. Men were BSS: beer, sex, sports, not necessarily in that order.
Her body stiffened a bit from the command he gave. “I’d rather not talk about it right now.”
He scooped her hand into his and kissed each finger, as he had earlier, to comfort her. She stared at him with wide eyes. “What?” he asked.
“It . . . you . . . I never had anyone do that before,” she whispered, looking at their joined hands. “You’ve done it twice.”
His heart broke for his mate. She’d been deprived of love for a long time. He didn’t need to know her past to realize that. Once she knew everything, he would give her so much love that she wouldn’t be able to stand it. That made him smile to himself. But there was a huge obstacle in the way of getting there: her. Something was blocking her emotions, her ability to care and love. He had to figure out what it was if they were to have any hope of mating.
“Candy, you have to know I’m attracted to you as much as you admitted you’re attracted to me.” He held on to her hand tightly in case she tried to bolt. “Are you going to be strong and face those feelings or cut and retreat?” He hoped using her language would help the communication between them.
A touch of anger floated in the air. “I am not a coward,” she ground out between clenched teeth.
“I know you’re not. That’s why we’re talking through this. Would you like to know how I see you, in truth?” he asked. She locked eyes with him, that fright returning.
“I want to ask you a question first,” she pleaded. He nodded. “What is a mate? I’ve been called that several times tonight.”
Damn, she’d caught those references. He groaned and squeezed his eyes closed. This wasn’t the time. She wasn’t ready. But he wasn’t starting the relationship by telling lies.
“The answer is complicated, but I’ll give you the easy answer now. Is that all right?” God, he hoped that was all right. She nodded and he breathed again. “A mate is a companion, someone who sticks by you through good and bad.”
“Oh, like a best friend,” she theorized.
“Yes, like a best friend.” And whole lot more which included sex, which was why his body was saying to take her now. Again, she wasn’t ready.
“So I’m to be your best friend? I’ve never had one of those. Your guys called me your mate. How can they know that? What if I don’t like you?” she asked.
He cringed inside at the words. It was possible that mates wouldn’t like each other, but he’d never heard of it. Even with a human mate.
“We’re here right now to work on that. I want to get to know you, inside and out.” She didn’t miss his innuendo. Her arousal rose thick in the air. His wolf was about to have a cow. It wanted her NOW. Chill out, he told it.
Her chin dropped to her chest. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to know about me,” she whispered.
“Why not?” he replied.
“Because . . .” she paused and sighed. “Because my growing up wasn’t pretty. I hated my life.” Tears were building in her eyes, but she straightened her back and held them in. She was strong; she wanted the world to see she wasn’t a pushover or weakling.
Josh scooted closer to her so he could touch more of her. She hadn’t objected, yet, so he took that as a positive sign. “Candy, you are one of the toughest people I’ve ever met.”
She rolled her eyes to meet his. “Really? You think that?”
“Absolutely. How many female sergeant majors are there?” he asked.
“Well, I’m the first, actually,” she replied. Holy shit, his mate was a powerhouse of a woman.
“That says enough, right there,” he commented. “I see a beautiful woman who will kick ass when required. No one sees you as weak or vulnerable.”
“I hope not,” she said. “I’ve spent twenty years proving my worth to this military.”
“Yes,” he responded. “So opening up to someone, like your best friend, won’t make you look feeble. We’re here to strengthen each other. Make each other better, more loving people.”
“I can’t do that,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
“Jeez Louise, how do I say this and not sound . . . stupid?” Her hand wiped her face.
“To me, you will never come across as stupid. Don’t ever think that.” Her personal self-image needed help while her professional image was buttoned down. No wonder she slipped into that tough-as-nails persona when she felt threatened. If he could just get her to relax and trust him, he would get past whatever blocked her.
Candy sighed. “I’ve never been in love. I don’t even know what love feels like.”
He asked, “You love your family, right?”
“No, but I did once. That was so long ago, I don’t remember anything about it. My father did a great job of shutting down any happiness in the family.”
“Was he mean?” he asked.
She tilted back and looked at the ceiling. “‘Mean’ doesn’t begin to describe it. I think ‘sadistic drunk’ would be a better description. An angry, hate-filled bastard whose misery wanted all the company it could get.”
“Did he hurt you?” His anger at a man who’d put his hands on her grew. He hadn’t been there in her childhood to protect her. But he’d do his best now.
“Every day. But I got used to it. Even took the prick’s attention away from my siblings when they got in his crosshairs.” That was why she didn’t like to be touched. In her mind, touch equated to pain. When her father touched her, she knew what was coming. This was killing him. She needed to be happy again. He’d get her there with time.
Josh swallowed hard thinking how to phrase this question. “Did he ever . . . did he . . .” Not a good start.
“Did he ever touch me inappropriately?” Yeah, that’s what he’d tried to say. “No. The bastard was too drunk to do anything but hit with his fist. Couldn’t make it up the stairs to our rooms where we hid when he fought with mom in the beginning.”
“In the beginning? Did they stop fighting after a while?” he asked.
A boatload of emotional agony and grief came over her. She scowled and sat straighter, sliding into the other person she used as an escape. Her having an alter ego, a mask to hide behind, made all the sense in the world now. When things at home went to hell, she pretended to be someone, somewhere, else who was happy and had a better life. Coping strategies. Psych 101.
“In a way, they stopped fighting. I killed my mother.”