Page 45 of Trust

No, that was too unlikely to contemplate. He certainly wasn’t going to be the one to give her the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe. Zane Hawker was the last man on earth who’d allow her the luxury of having to neither weigh thoughts nor measure words.

Laughing silently, she knew that any man who said leave me alone one minute and let’s go for it the next wouldn’t likely stick around and make the investment necessary. He was clearly swimming in happy sex hormones and would be sated before too long. Feeling mildly satisfied with the explanation, she listened to the clock tick and mentally poked at the familiar dull pain in her chest.

How much does it still hurt? A question she’d asked herself nearly every day of the last five years. One of the therapists she’d seen early on said it was a coping mechanism that survivors utilized—a way not to forget.

Should she share the story with Zane?

Would he be interested in the event that shaped her into who she was today?

She’d been poking, prodding, and picking at his story since they’d met, and he could very well feel the need to return the favor at some point.

Not because he genuinely wanted to know her, of course. But because giving up valuable intel wasn’t what an operator did. And despite some evidence to the contrary, he was still very much a soldier.

Why had she been so insistent on asking a hundred questions?

Sucking in a breath, she realized it was because she wanted to know him. In every way. A thing that hadn’t happened since Thad. A dull pain spiked in her chest with the admission, and she twisted her fingers together.

Zane sat up. “You feel like telling me about whatever made you stiffen and suck in a breath?”

Darn it!

She loosened her limbs and pushed her mouth into a smile. “I’m just excited about the prospect of bringing the Ferris wheel back to life.”

“You didn’t put effort into that lie, so try again.”

“I should get back to work.” She heaved herself off his lap and felt a large hand land on her leg. “Lots to do.”

He arched an eyebrow. “And yet, five minutes ago, you wanted to spend hours doing dirty things to one another.”

“Mutually satisfying physical relations between consenting adults isn’t dirty.”

“Unless it’s done right.” He tugged her hand.

Knowing he had the tenacity of a bull and the patience of a Siberian tiger, she turned slowly and silently cursed his flashing eyes. “The ride won’t fix itself.”

Zane stood. “Something has you spooked, and the sooner I know what it is, the better.”

“For whom?”

He lifted a picture off the bookcase. “I’m guessing it has something to do with this.”

She watched him study the photo and knew there was no mistaking how much the man in the picture meant to her. “That’s Thad. We were college sweethearts and completely in love.”

“Were?” Zane asked quietly.

“Yes.” She looked down at the worn wooden floor. “We were driving home from grad school with our lives stretched out before us with a hundred possibilities. We had so many plans.” The familiar boulder of pain moved slightly in her chest. “We were hit by a drunk driver.” She closed her eyes. “Bones crushed. Organs twisted into something unrecognizable.” Tears threatened to spill, and she swallowed loudly. “I survived. Thad didn’t.”

Zane set the picture down carefully, and she tried to fill her lungs with air. “He had a ring in his bag.”

“I’m so sorry, Liv.”

“I don’t think you get more than one great love. He was likely mine.” Twisting her rings, she breathed slowly. “There wasn’t a part of me that he didn’t accept. Every quirk, foible, and annoying habit. He took it all in stride and loved me with every bone in his body.”

Zane’s features tightened, and she took his outstretched hand. “Sounds like a tragedy, doesn’t it?”

“Sure does.”

“It’s not. Some people don’t get one shot at that kind of happiness.” His long fingers covered hers. “I decided long ago to appreciate what I had and make the most of surviving the accident.”

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