Fifteen

I couldn't tear my gaze off Kyle.

He was standing on the deck with his back to me, grilling something that smelled delicious. My heart puffed up like a blowfish. For a moment I stopped and watched him. His movements were fluid, confident, like a well-trained athlete.

The feelings stirring inside me were unfamiliar. It wasn't physical desire—well, it was that too. But attraction took a distant second to the connection I felt with him. It was as if his soul completed mine.

Sensing my presence, he turned and his smile stole my breath. He was very handsome, tall with broad shoulders, and rippling muscles. He had a strong jaw and features that had a dazzling effect on females.

We both started toward one another at the same time, stopping inches before we touched. It wasn't enough.

Taking another step, my leg caught the metal of his IIizarov and I winced. Kyle flinched.

"I'm sorry." I stepped back, peering down at his leg before looking up at him. "Did I hurt you?"

He frowned. "That's what I was going to ask you."

I smiled. "No, I'm good."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I'll be glad to get this hunk of metal off my leg."

"Only a few more days." Kyle got around so well with the device on his leg that most of the time I forgot he had it, but I knew he never did.

His easy confidence and lack of complaint made it seem like he wasn't self-conscious about his leg, but I thought it bothered him more than he let on.

We were sitting on the deck eating the fajitas he'd grilled when my suspicions were confirmed.

"Lucy, I might never walk again without a limp." He said it in the same tone he might say, I need to get my oil changed soon. It was the first time I'd witnessed vulnerability in him and my heart hurt.

"Kyle, you're healing faster than expected. The IIizarov is coming off a week early, and you've exceeded your therapist's expectations." I spoke to him like I would a patient, calm and positive, stating only the facts.

"I know all that," he replied quietly, holding my gaze. "I think I'll make a full recovery, but there's always the chance that I won't."

"You shouldn't worry. We've prayed. It's in God's hands." In a feather-light touch, his fingers brushed my hand, making my skin tingle, and my thoughts scrambled like an egg.

"You're right. I trust the Lord." His eyes crinkled at the corners with a smile. "I like how casually you said we, like we're in this together."

"We are." He continued his sweet assault on my hand, and the words trembled from my lips.

"Lucy." My name sounded like deep, rough velvet on his lips. "I'm lucky to be alive and I know it. If I end up with a limp, then I'll walk a little slower. If I need a cane, I'll go buy one. Whatever happens, I'll accept it, but you don't have to."

I couldn't believe what he was saying. "You don't think I'll stay with you if you end up with a limp." I was hurt and angry that he'd think that.

"I don't expect you to answer right away." He acted like that made things easier on me, but it was more like a lit match to a stick of dynamite.

"You don't?"

"Think about it. Or you can wait and see what happens before you decide. I'm not going anywhere."

"If I was hurt, Kyle, would you leave me?"

The question took him by surprise. His brows shot to his hairline. "That's different."

"Because you're a better person than me?" I made an effort to stay calm.

"No," he said, drawing out the single syllable word. "I told you my feelings for you are deep. I spent two years reading your emails and remembering that night, wondering if I was going to get the chance to see you again. I know what I want, Lucy."

I let his words sink in knowing I felt the same and confused he had no idea. "You think you love me more than I love you?"

"No," he replied cautiously, finally sensing he was on rocky ground. "I'm sorry. Forget I brought this up."

Creases formed between his brows, and I had the urge to soothe him. Leaning forward and reaching up I cupped my hand against his jaw and felt a surge of satisfaction when he turned into the touch.

"If it's bothering you, we should talk about it. It's not healthy to let things build." Ok, I sounded like a talk show therapist, and he was studying me like he wasn't sure how to proceed.

"You're not mad?"

"No." I hesitated. "Well, sort of."

His lips twitched. "You're sort of mad at me."

"I'm not mad at you at all. It's just when you questioned my feelings for you, I was a little—"

"Mad?" he supplied helpfully, lips twitching.

We both laughed.

Humor was one of the best things about our relationship. When we finally settled down I told him gently, "You never have to question my loyalty. I'm not going anywhere."

"My apologies, sweetheart. I'm forgiven then?"

"Always."

"It won't be my first mistake."

"Hmm." I pretended to consider this. "Well, I suppose I'll have to forgive all of your trespasses." I sat a little straighter. "I'm, of course, perfect so you won't have to forgive anything."

Without warning, he stood and stalked around the table. My eyes traveled up, from his shorts, over his flat stomach, broad chest, and finally clashed with his. "Miss Perfect," he whispered, a teasing glint in his hot gaze.

Taking my hands he easily pulled me into his arms, careful not to hit my leg against his. A warm, squishy feeling fluttered inside me. He dipped his head, and my heart flipped. He was going to kiss me.

"I-I was joking," I said needlessly, nervously.

"I'm not. You're perfect for me." His voice was husky, and his heart seemed to race like mine. I felt its powerful rhythm against my palm. "Lucy."

My breath hitched hearing him say my name, and I braced for his kiss. His head descended slowly as if giving me time to stop it but I never would. Anticipation called to me. I needed Kyle's kiss like I needed air.

Finally, he was close enough that I could feel his breath mingling with mine. He smelled like mint, even after eating fajitas. I hoped I smelled as good to him.

He paused just before his mouth met mine. "Is that look on your face because you want me to stop?"

"No! I-I just, would you like me to brush my teeth?"

Deep laughter rumbled from his chest seconds before his mouth claimed mine in a gentle brush of lips that quickly burned hotter than either of us expected. The kiss held a touch of desperation, a pang of insatiable hunger that demanded satisfaction but could never be filled with a simple kiss.

Kyle tore away, his labored breathing matched my own, and his forehead dropped against mine. We stayed like that while countless moments slipped by.

My heartbeat gradually slowed. The desire eased to a bearable simmer, which was far better than the raging fire.

Taking a step back, he peered down at me with an astonished expression. "I wasn't expecting that." I understood he was referring to the fire that kindled quickly between us. "I'm sorry. We'll have to find something else to do."

He was shaking. Nervous, I cleared my throat. "W-we could pray together." The words felt awkward, and I didn't know why. Maybe it was because just moments ago we were kissing and now I was suggesting a prayer.

Was that appropriate? Yes, I decided, it was. What better way to get us back on God's chosen path. The reason it felt off was that every time I tried to share my faith I felt like a fish trying to fly.

I wasn't aware I'd spoken my thoughts aloud until Kyle responded. "You seem wise, not awkward and you're right. We should pray, Lucy."

Kyle led us as we prayed to the Lord, thanking him for his blessings and asking for healing and guidance. I loved how his deep, rich voice spoke to God, and after it was over I was filled with peace, love, and a sense that I wasn't alone.

"You feel the Holy Spirit," he told me.

"I like it. Sometimes I feel it more than others."

"I know what you mean. If I'm distracted, not praying, or reading the Bible as I should, I struggle." He looked sheepish. "Sometimes I have a tendency to try and do life on my own when I should be leaning on God."

"I've had trouble with that too, especially the little things." Suddenly, I was curious. "We're not one of those things you're trying to do on your own, are we?"

"No, I've spent a lot of time in prayer about us." His gaze implored me to believe him. "Rest assured in that. I've also prayed for Izabelle, our friends, and your dad."

"You prayed for Dad?" Happy tears stung my eyes.

"Of course," he said like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"I pray too, but sometimes it seems..." Hopeless. I didn't want to say it aloud, but I think he knew.

"Keep planting the seeds and praying they'll grow."

"He wants you to join us for our weekly dinner next week." I watched his reaction. He didn't seem horrified, and I was reassured. "If that's not a good time, we can reschedule."

"Not a chance." He paused, seeming to let the invitation sink in. "Did he suggest it?"

"Yes, he wants to meet you." I saw Kyle relax. "I explained about the other night with Travis. He won't shoot you," I teased.

"Good to know." He stared back at me with a smile in his eyes.

The patio door cracked open and, I heard a familiar voice call out, "Sergeant Huxley, it's Sandy with the VNT!"

"Too many people have keys to my house," Kyle grumbled but he didn't seem all that irritated because he suddenly smiled. "If you stay, maybe she'll stop offering to give me a sponge bath."

"I'm staying for sure. Maybe forever," I laughed.

His expression turned serious. "I'll hold you to that."