"I like action films," she says, snuggling closer as I wrap my arm around her. "I haven't seen any in years. Not since Shelley started having babies. We just watched kid movies or rom-coms."
"I can send for a few action flicks when we get lunch. Everything is deliverable around here. If not, Saskia has nothing else to do than play errand girl."
"She's scary. I'm sure she's nice, but she's also scary."
"She doesn't smile when others expect it. People underestimate how much smiling helps in social situations. Saskia isn't one of those people. She knows she should smile at certain times but withholds it. Remember that when you think you're weird."
Smiling, Darla rests her head against me and relaxes in a new way. Maybe she was this calm before Locke, but I've never seen her look so peaceful.
Saskia drops off Thai takeout and two action films. I'm happy when she makes no effort to stay at the apartment and leaves as quickly as she arrived. Darla watches Saskia, saying nothing the entire time. The little Ukrainian really freaks her out.
"She's funny once you get to know her," I promise while we set out our food.
Darla only nods. "I was worried she'd stay."
"Want me to yourself, eh?"
Her expression tells me that my joking comment wasn't far off. The possessiveness in her gaze makes my skin warm with need. If Darla knew how badly I wanted her spread out on the bed in her room, she might not look so courageous.
After eating, we watch an action movie that came out years ago when I was working a lot on the African continent. Back then, Minka and I played the tourist role for so long that I was bored of being on vacation.
I wish I could tell Darla about that time in my life, but she isn't ready to hear about the blood on my hands. Killing Locke makes me a hero in Darla's eyes. Killing dozens of losers over my lifetime might make me a monster instead.
Besides, she doesn't need constant reminders of my past with Minka. I certainly plan to pretend Darla never dated, let alone slept with a man before we met. In my mind, she exists for me. Yet Darla won't understand how she makes me feel like Minka never could. Just as I can't understand why she trusts me when I lack the warmth a woman like her needs. We make sense despite logic.
The movie lasts for two hours. Darla spends part of the time next to me. Occasionally, her lips find mine. She also kisses the scar on my throat. Just as quickly as her affection begins, she shuts down and pulls away.
By the end of the movie, Darla's on the ground working on her puzzle. No matter where she moves, I watch her. No movie can tear away my attention. No thoughts interest me besides knowing more about her. How does she see the world? What does she dream about for her future? How can I get closer to her until I own everything about Darla Birmingham?
"Will you still teach me to shoot a gun?" she asks, hours later at dinner.
I frown at her question. Darla's been silent since the movie ended. Even when she picked her dinner from a takeout menu and ran her fingers over my bicep, she didn't speak. I don't mind her silence. In fact, quiet suits me, but I'm startled by the intensity of her voice when she asks about the gun.
"Yes."
"When?"
"When do you want to go to the office's shooting range?"
Darla's expression loses much of its certainty as if she had forgotten leaving the apartment was necessary.
"Tomorrow, I have therapy. I can't keep canceling. Shelley will worry."
"We can train whenever you want."
Studying me, Darla nods before lowering her gaze and ignoring me for the rest of our meal.
"Bored of me already?" I ask after washing the dishes.
Darla shakes her head and whispers, "I wish you wouldn't leave."
When her fingers reach out and graze my chest gently, I nearly don't feel it. My fingers grasp hers and hold them still against my heart.
"I'm sorry," she says, looking ready to cry. "I know you have a life outside this apartment and this job. I know, but..."
"You don't know, Darla. The minute I leave here, I disappear from your life like when a parent leaves a child at daycare."
Frowning, Darla tries to pull her hand away. I refuse to let her hand go.
"If you knew me, you'd know I spend every damn minute after I walk out that door wanting to get back here to see you. You'd know I hate leaving you. So don't apologize for wanting me to stay."
Darla relaxes her hand in mine. "I don't know you."
"No, you don't, and I don't know you either. Not yet, but that's normal. Everything else feels strange. The way we met and having me babysitting you each day. Those things don't matter. Nothing about my life is normal, so the way I found you shouldn't be normal either."
Darla thinks about my words, and I expect her to wonder why I can't be more eloquent. Women like fancy words. Not women like Minka, who views anything romantic as a con. Darla is a soft kind of woman, growing up with idealistic views of courtships. I'd seen plenty of women like her, and I know I don't have the right jargon to make her heart flutter.
Yet she smiles at me. "I don't know you, but I want to."