Without hesitation Sharon said, “You betcha, buddy. Cadence is sleeping on the couch, but we’ll get you warm and then we’ll set things up so you and she can play.” Truck hadn’t gotten a look at Sharon before she left Vanna’s bedroom with Kitt, but she must have had her and Gunny’s newest baby with her, because she continued, “And if you want to hold Kitten, we can arrange that, too.”
Gunny’s voice was rough with concern when he asked, “What the fuck happened, brother?”
“Kitt took a runner, tumbled into the creek.” He shifted his hands, assisting Vanna in her efforts to sit up, feeling the occasional shivers still making their way through her. He sat back, trying not to smile when she glanced down to see the tips of her hardened nipples poking tents in her wet shirt, the transparent fabric doing nothing to hide the broad circles of her pebbled areolas. With a groan she lifted her arms and crossed them over her chest, not realizing she created cleavage he found just as delectable. Tongue tracing the inside of his lips, he waited until he could be sure his voice wouldn’t give his arousal away before continuing, “Vanna fell while we were getting him out.”
“And you’re here because…” The tone of this question was hard, hanging in the air like an accusation. Gunny was protective of people he considered his responsibility, and from her stories last night Truck knew Vanna fell directly in that camp. He would need to tread as carefully with his brother as he had Kitt to ensure things stayed copacetic with Gunny.
“Bought a house down the road. As next door as it gets out here in the country. Vanna was gracious last night, offering use of her phone when I needed to make a call to the clubhouse and didn’t have signal.” He twisted, looking up at the big ex-Marine. “I get she’s important to you, Gunny. I wouldn’t disrespect the pictures on her wall, brother. Vanna’s a beauty, inside and out, and I see she’s more than a friend to you.” Time to say things plain, make sure there’re no misunderstandings. “I get it, brother. Much as it kills me, hell…much as I want to, I won’t go there.”
Laughter barked from Gunny’s throat and he shocked Truck by saying, “Fuck, man. She wants you to go there, you’d be a fuckin’ fool to pass this woman by.”
A sound came from the tub and Truck turned back to see Vanna’s head tipped to one side, her eyes on him. As he watched, one corner of her mouth curled up into a smile.
Vanna
Is he saying what I think he’s saying? The bemused thought flitted through her head as she stared up at Truck.
Gunny’s laughter trailed off and she met his gaze over the top of Truck’s head. “Peepers.” He cleared his throat before continuing, “Momma, you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, Lane.” His mouth curved in a smile in response to hers. “I’m good.”
“Want some coffee?”
It was her turn to chuckle and she nodded as she responded, “That would be perfect, son.”
“Right on. You got it.” Gunny tapped the doorframe twice, then twice again before ducking out and into her bedroom. She listened until she heard his voice join Sharon’s downstairs, then turned to look at Truck, still kneeling beside the tub.
As she stared at him, thoughts of their evening rolled through her head. His laughter at her stories, the way he held her in his sleep, how well they fit together. Dancing with him. The unhappy look in his eyes when he misunderstood her words this morning. How it had hurt to let him walk out the door, thinking in her pain that she was simply being maudlin again. Discounting what she felt.
Then there was his sudden and miraculous appearance in the woods, helping her hold it together so she could think, then his headlong dash across the field as he rushed to save her son. How he coaxed Kitt home, speaking soft encouraging words to her son while she listened with eyes closed, suspended securely in his arms. He was the same man with or without an audience. Good and kind, caring and supportive. And he kinda just said he wants me, she thought.
Lips pressed together, the expression on his face somber, he stared back at her. He’s about to do something really stupid. Don’t let him say goodbye, a thought not her own flitted through her head and she jerked, then blurted an unexpected question, “You sorta like me?”
He blinked and his mustache moved, cheeks lifting his lips into a smile. “Yeah, darlin’. I sorta do.”