“Oh, I do. I’m excellent at the traditional bow. It’s purely instinctive to use and you know me,” she shrugged innocently, “I’m ruled by my instincts.”
“Right,” Creed looked down at the weapon in his hands so he wouldn’t stare at the beautiful blush lingering in the apples of her cheeks. “So, you need help with the Hoyt Seven 37, cam and a half compound bow.”
“Um, yeah. You really know your weapons.”
“It’s what I do.”
“It’s not all you do.”
“Weapons and fighting techniques—that’s pretty much it.”
“You’re more than that, Creed.”
He shrugged, feeling distinctly uncomfortable with the turn in conversation.
“This has been measured and fit for you, hasn’t it?” Creed asked, changing the subject by holding the weapon up to Meg.
“Yes, the boys took care of that.” She reached out to take the bow in her left hand.
“Maybe I should use Alik’s bow to teach you. It would be a better fit for me.”
“Sure.” Meg shrugged. As he walked back toward the wall with all the archery equipment, Meg kicked herself, hard.
What the heck are you doing, Meg? You know how he feels about you, and you’re ga-ga about him. Stop acting like an awkward dork! She scolded herself. She set the bow aside and started pacing and flapping her hands nervously.
“Well, I agree it’s a good idea to learn the compound bow. You may be able to instinctively control the accuracy with a traditional bow, but when it comes to sheer power and velocity, it’s pretty hard to compete with a cam and a half compound bow. The Holts are dependable—good for both target shooting and hunting.” Creed had laid Alik’s bow on the side table so he could free up his hands to help Meg with the trigger release. He unlatched it from its holder and reached out to take her right hand so he could start securing the Velcro in place around her wrist, but the moment his fingertips touched her warm skin, he completely froze, losing his train of thought.
As his warm hand still held hers, he found himself searching her face, tongue-tied and dizzy with her tantalizing strawberry scent.
Meg watched the blue of Creed’s eyes and felt herself diving even deeper into love with every passing breath. She never questioned the profound absolution she felt toward the man holding her hand. Instead, she slowly rose on tiptoe, watching him, watching her. When his breath, warm and delicious, tickled the sensitive skin of her lips, she completely gave in to the instincts that rule her.
He released her hand only to reach up and hold her face as if she were the most fragile, precious thing he’d ever had the honor of touching. His hungry lips tasted hers as though she were the only drink that could ever quench his thirst.
Creed pulled back just enough to sweep Meg up into his arms. His massive strength allowed him to hold her with one arm, cradled safely while the other hand slipped up her arm and until his calloused fingertips found the curve of her collarbone and lingered for a moment before continuing up to her jaw line. Meg watched his eyes as he caressed her and read him as clearly as if he were saying the words, “you’re so beautiful” aloud.
Their eyes locked as he tipped her chin just enough to gently ask for more kisses. Meg wrapped her arms around his thick neck and brushed her lips against his tenderly before suckling his bottom lip.
As they kissed, Creed walked them back toward the folding chairs by the barn’s entrance where he sat slowly, lowering Meg into his lap. Knowing he needed to calm down, he pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against hers, her sweet breath brushing against his clean-shaven face.
“When this is over,” He whispered to her in the rustic beauty of the old barn. “When we’re able to stop fighting and running, will you still want me around?”
Meg pulled back and looked the soldier directly in the eyes. She sensed immediately the wave of insecurity crashing around his heart, leaving foam-wrapped self-doubt. “I want to be with you always, Creed.”
“I know we’re both young, but we’ve lived through so much already.” Meg snuggled even closer against Creed’s rock-hard abs and chest, her long legs draped across his lap as she watched him speak.
“Meg, I wasn’t planning to have this conversation right now, but I never know when we’re going to have time alone. Our relationship has always had to happen during the calm between storms—or even when the gale is right on top of us.”
Meg was nodding, “I know. I pray it won’t always be this way, but for now, this is life. What did you want to tell me?”
“Can’t you tell? I mean, use your gift to read me?”
“I could, but I try not to out of respect. You have a right to your own thoughts without me constantly intruding. I’ve gotten better at being able to control the gift, thanks to you, I think.”