“Your back still feeling bad?” she said, eyes on the floor.
Forcing himself not to limp, he stepped in front of her and studied her face for a long moment. With her soft blond hair and her wide blue eyes and her alluring feminine curves, Becca was so very pretty. The marks on her face did nothing to detract from her appeal. Instead, they made him want to kiss her to make sure she wouldn’t feel their discomfort. But he shouldn’t. He really fucking shouldn’t. After all the ways he’d failed the men sleeping down the hall, he didn’t deserve the spot of lightness she’d bring to his life, even for just a short time.
And it was clear his men agreed. Jesus, it had been downright frosty between them most of the night. Maybe too much time had passed to try to fix all the ways he’d failed them. If so, it was his own damn fault. Again.
Becca peered up at him, those worried eyes so open and honest. That honesty appealed right to the heart of him and had him unthinkingly sliding his hands over her shoulders and under her hair to cup the slim column of her neck. She wasn’t her father, damnit. She didn’t play games. She didn’t hold back. Time and again, she’d come right out with the truth, even when it couldn’t have been easy to say. “What was your nightmare about?” he said in a low voice, ignoring the internal alarms telling him to keep his distance.
She twisted her lips and stared up at him. He felt like he was willing the words out of her, he wanted them so bad. “Charlie being tortured.” Her eyes went glassy, but she straightened her spine like she refused to let the undoubtedly terrifying images bow her.
Nick’s gut clenched and he softly squeezed her neck. Nothing he could say to make that ugly reality any better. “I’ll do everything I can.” Everything I can to make sure you don’t lose your last remaining family. But he couldn’t say that part out loud. He refused to make a promise he didn’t know he could keep.
She nodded. “I know.” She closed her eyes and rolled her head in response to his fingers. That little expression of comfort and pleasure shot straight to his cock. Eyes still shut, she said, “On a scale of one to ten, how bad’s your back?”
He couldn’t keep his lip from twitching. Apparently her sharing came with a quid pro quo requirement. And fair enough. “Three.” Her eyes flew open, filled with skepticism. “Three if I remain absolutely still and don’t breathe.” She arched an eyebrow, but he’d almost eked out a smile. “Okay, a six.”
“Does it hurt all the time?”
“Nuh uh. My turn.”
“Oh, I didn’t realize we were . . . Well, be my guest.” That time, she smiled.
Field was wide open. What did he want to know? If he wanted her to understand he was there for her, there was one place that made sense to start—really making the effort to get to know her. “Are you and Charlie close?”
She tilted her face and brushed her cheek against his forearm. “Yes, but in our own way. Charlie’s hard to get close to. He’s introverted and more comfortable talking to people online than in person. But he’s loyal and kind and has a hilarious, dry sense of humor.” Big eyes looked up at him. “And he’s my little brother, you know?”
Nick nodded. Sounded like Charlie was the exact opposite of Jeremy, but he got exactly what she was saying. “I do know.”
“Are you doing physical therapy for your back?” she asked. Under his fingers, the muscles in her neck and shoulders began to relax.
“I did PT for six months after I got home. Now I see a chiropractor who’s also damn good at therapeutic massage. My turn, and I’m going back to my first question again. Are you okay?”
She looked him right in the eye. “I’m scared.”
He wondered if she knew how brave it was to just admit her fear that way. She might not have her father’s size or training, but she’d clearly inherited a healthy dose of his warrior’s spirit.
“Of what?” he finally said.
“Of not finding Charlie. That they’re hurting him. That, after our fight, he doesn’t know how much I love him.” Nick drew his hands from her neck and caressed her hair, his fingers pushing through the thick layers to lightly scratch her scalp. She sighed. “I’m scared one of you will get hurt. Or all of you will get in trouble.” Releasing a shaky breath, her gaze dropped down to his chest. Lingered. “Does it hurt your back to lay on your stomach?” she asked.
He frowned at the out-of-left-fielder. “Uh, yeah. Why?”
Becca pulled his hand to her mouth and kissed the center of his palm. “Sit down facing backward.” She rolled the desk chair closer.
Rixey stared at the chair like it was speaking in a foreign language. Well, one he didn’t speak anyway.
She laughed. “Don’t be so suspicious. Just sit your butt down already.”