A Love Worth Living (9 page)

She slipped the phone back into her purse without another word.

If he looked at a write-up of her behavior, he’d guess she was a teenager lashing out at the world, angry at everything and everyone. At work, she was coolly controlled, focused and analytical. Without her job as a buffer between her and the world, she seemed to struggle with her self-identity.

Aaron had been the same way, a soldier to his core. He’d used the hard, tireless work as a way to focus himself after a few wayward years in high school. The first time he was sent to inpatient treatment, they’d refused to let him wear his uniform, citing the military pins as “health risks”. David had driven four hours from college to go visit him, stunned to see his once-energetic brother look so defeated.

Once they’d started talking, however, anger had taken over, and Aaron had shouted at him, his anger rising until he’d finally thrown his chair against the wall. He’d blamed David for being locked up in that place, even though David had had nothing to do with it. Aaron had accused him of stealing their parents’ love and attention, upstaging him by going to a fancy college instead of following in their father’s footsteps and enlisting.

After that visit, David had distanced himself, focusing on school and leaving his brother’s care to the professionals. The hatred on his little brother’s face had simply cut him too deeply.

It had been the beginning of Aaron’s downward spiral. In and out of rehab for the next four years, his brother’s PTSD symptoms had only gotten worse, exacerbated by his drug abuse. David hadn’t re-involved himself until later. Much too late.

The Metro’s screeching brakes cut through the air. He should have been there to save his brother, but he’d run instead. This time would be different. He’d break through to Carrie and help her, even if she hated him afterwards. If only he’d been strong enough for Aaron.

He snagged Carrie’s hand and stood. She reluctantly followed him onto the train crowded with morning commuters. He staked out a pole in the middle of the car and guided Carrie’s hands around it. He stationed himself at her back, a barrier against the press of people.

She flicked her gaze at him. “Thank you.”

While they were above ground, Carrie stared out the window. As soon as the train dipped downward, her fingers tightened on the pole and her attention gravitated down. He scooted closer and wrapped one hand around hers and the other around her waist. Though she never fully relaxed, she did let her head drop back onto his chest.

It was a start.

At Gallery Place they changed lines, joining the mass of riders who packed onto the train. They managed to snag a spot right against the doors before they closed. A partition separated them from the first row of riders, and David once again used his body to keep distance between Carrie and the rest of the train. Unlike their first ride, though, the crush of bodies mashed them together into their little corner.

Her arms bent protectively in front of her chest, and her wide eyes blindly stared out the door. The pulse in her neck fluttered like a trapped bird and begged him to soothe her.

Knowing she was already on edge, David nonetheless gauged the risk and decided he might be the lesser of two evils at the moment.

He tugged at her hands until they unclenched, then wrapped them around his waist while his arms slid over her shoulders. She shuddered with such tension that he feared she would break apart. Stroking her fiery hair, he smiled as she calmed by degrees.

A few stops from their destination, she let him take her full weight. She wasn’t shaking anymore, and her breathing had slowed significantly.

Carrie tilted her head up at him, eyes suspiciously moist. “Damn you for always having the solution.”

He gave her a wry smile. “I see you, Carrie. I see what you need, and I’ll be damned if I’ll let you go without.”

She shook her head and swallowed. “It’s not that simple—”

“Yes, it is.” He reached behind himself, grabbed her hand, and settled it over his heart. For a moment, he let himself pretend she loved him back.

They rode the rest of the way in tense silence, but damned if she didn’t leave her hand right where he’d put it.

Chapter Nine

David used his body as a shield as they swam through the crowd, not letting the overzealous travelers invade Carrie’s space as she valiantly kept her eyes on the ground and away from the imposing walls of the underground stop. She didn’t say a word, not even to marvel, as many riders around them were doing, at the endless escalator from the Metro platform to the surface.

When they broke into the sunlight, she let out a relieved breath and shed her underground tension. She tried to look everywhere at once, absorbing the new environment through questioning eyes. He recognized the look on her face—he saw it every time she watched a show, or she worked through lunch and lost herself in some bit of research.

Her brilliant mind catalogued everything and fit it into her carefully organized perception of the world. He loved watching her think and would have stood on the sidewalk all day if some eager traveler hadn’t bumped her.

She lurched sideways into his chest, and he steadied her, taking advantage of the moment to run his fingers up her arm. “Shall we?”

“All right.” She gathered herself and slipped back into her analytical mode. Her fingers twitched as if she longed to write down her observations as they walked the short block down to one of the best bookstores in the world.

He’d left the DC area to attend college and graduate school. In all those years, he’d only returned a handful of times—on long breaks during his freshman year, for the occasional visit to see his parents and to attend his brother’s memorial dinner.

This store had always been his favorite downtown destination, and he’d made a point to visit every time he’d been back in DC. Though he didn’t have as much time to read as he used to, even being there soothed him. He would go to one of the larger chains if he absolutely had to, but this was His Place.

“Welcome to my secret DC escape.” He couldn’t keep the joy from his voice. He wanted to share this bit of himself with Carrie and hoped she’d lose herself in the bookshelves like he did. With all the books that lined her office and living room, he figured it was a safe assumption.

Her eyes trailed across the outdoor café and stared into the large plate-glass window of the store. Even midday on a Tuesday, the store had a good number of customers. The late-breakfast crowd took advantage of the café’s outdoor seating. The murmur of countless conversations and clinking of silverware filled the air. He soaked it in, willing the liveliness into Carrie.

“It’s gorgeous. I have more books than I could ever read, but that’s never stopped me from buying more.”

He squeezed her shoulder. “I’ve seen your shelves. They’re the only bit of chaos in your space.”

The smile she gave him could have lit the whole Metro system. It curled around his heart and reinforced his determination. When she smiled, he almost couldn’t believe she was the same dead-eyed woman he’d picked up from the airport less than a week ago. This was the woman he was fighting for.

“Are you still hungry?” He threaded his fingers through hers and led her to the entrance.

“Famished.”

After snagging a small bistro table outside so Carrie could people-watch as they ate, they perused the menu and ordered when their waitress appeared.

He stroked Carrie’s hand, hoping she was enchanted enough with their destination to open up to him. “Want to talk about earlier?”

Her attention flickered between him and people walking by on the street. “Not really. But I get the feeling you’re going to wheedle it out of me with your psychological wiles.”

“I’d thought about withholding breakfast, but that’s too much torture, even for me.”

She looked back and cocked her eyebrow at him. “Oh? Good to know you have some limits.”

He gripped her hand. “Very few. You make me a desperate man, Dr. Farrow.”

She started to say something, but stopped as their coffees arrived. “Your food will be out in just a minute, hon.” Their waitress gave him a slow smile and leaned closer, her low-cut shirt giving him a good view of her red-lace bra. “Anything else I can get you?”

Carrie’s nails dug into his palm. Ignoring the waitress, he looked at Carrie instead. “I’m fine, thanks.”

When the waitress left, he gave her hand a squeeze. “Everything okay?”

“Just dandy.” She continued to glare daggers at the woman’s back.

Whether or not she realized what was going on, David recognized jealousy when he saw it—or when it clawed his hand.

When the waitress returned with their food, he lifted Carrie’s hand to his lips and kissed her fingers to set her jealousy to rest. She shifted from frowning at the waitress, to frowning at him.

Their plates clanked onto the table. Never taking his eyes from Carrie, he said, “Thanks. Could we get the check?”

The waitress slapped down a receipt and left.

“What’s wrong with her?” Carrie took her hand back and dug into her eggs and toast.

“I think a little social analysis will answer that for you.”

She paused and stared into the distance. David ate as he watched her process the whole situation.

A smirk lifted the corner of her full, pink lips, and he went hard. The things Carrie did to him.

“That was an evil thing to do, David.” She chuckled and shook her head before returning to her food. “I don’t think she’s used to being ignored.”

“Well, she’s never had to compete against you for attention.”

Carrie froze, a bite of toast halfway to her mouth, then frowned. “I think there must have been variables I didn’t calculate into the equation. What does female competition have to do with it? I concluded you were ignoring her attentions because her blatant show of sexual attraction to many of the men in here heightened your competitive instincts. In many animal societies, a male ignores a female to increase her attraction to him.”

“Seriously? That was your conclusion?” He thunked down his water glass and glared at her. “Jesus.”

She munched on her toast and swallowed. “Okay, enlighten me.”

“Jealousy.” He cocked an eyebrow and waited for her to fit that piece of information into her scenario.

The toast dropped from her hands. “Oh.”

“Exactly.”

He let it sink in. Confusion, frustration, and longing twitched across her face, all finally giving way to lust.

“If you knew what was good for you…” She looked away and swallowed.

“That would be you. I know you’ve got secrets—hell, we all do—but I can’t imagine your past contains secrets so awful it would scare me away.”

Her bitter laugh cut at his heart. “Everyone leaves, David, whether they want to or not. Relationships are ephemeral, and getting involved is just asking for trouble. It’s not my past I’m worried about, so much as the future.”

He didn’t fear her past, or her future, but those words sure scared him. If getting emotional triggered this kind of reaction from her, he’d keep poking at her—loving her, caring for her—until he got to the bottom of it. She would have to hurt before things got better, like lancing an infected wound.

Although their brunch conversation had given him even more questions to delve into, he thought they were making progress. Each time she shut him out, she opened to him more readily the next time.

She was getting comfortable with him, whether she liked it or not. And if she wasn’t strong enough to face her past alone, he’d forge the path and drag her along with him.

Carrie could only manage half of her food, but that was enough. She was full and overwhelmed by David’s presence. Just when she had his motives figured out, he did something else to throw her.

If he just wanted her body, she could be amenable. She hadn’t yet ruled it out as a possibility, but then he’d say something tender and caring and the whole fuck-buddy scenario seemed laughable. He read her too easily, protected her when she was overwhelmed and held her when she wasn’t brave enough to push him away.

Maybe she was crazy to keep fighting him, but the raw emotions from that morning’s French toast incident proved a stark reminder of why she had to keep her distance.

The waitress, much subdued, cleared their plates and returned the bill and David’s credit card. She intellectually understood what David had done, but didn’t understand why he’d been driven to it.

David would make some woman a wonderful boyfriend, but he clearly desired more than she could offer. From a sociobiological perspective, it didn’t make sense for him to waste his time with a woman who would not be willing to form a relationship with him.

The only conclusion she had reached so far was he’d be crazy to pursue her for any kind of relationship. And David Cameron was as sane as they got.

She pushed away from the table and her chair scraped on the brick sidewalk. “Shall we?” If she was going to have the next days off, she wanted to grab a new book. She hadn’t had leisure-reading time in years.

David followed, settling his hand against her lower back. Through her light blouse, her skin warmed under his hand. She entered the bookstore proper and headed straight for the romance section.