"You missed him," she said. Somehow it didn't seem possible. He was so sure of himself, almost invincible in his manner
"I hit what I was aiming at," he answered quietly.
"We have to keep moving. I'm hoping I slowed them down, but we can't count on it." He forced the oars through the water with his powerful arms and the boat shot through the channel toward open water "I didn't feel anything."
His gaze brushed her face, an odd little caress she felt all the way through her body, just as if he'd touched her with his fingers. "I wasn't aiming at you."
She caught the fleeting glint of his white teeth in what could have been a brief smile. One dark eyebrow rose in response. "Has anyone ever told you your sense of humor needs a little work?"
"No one's ever accused me of having a sense of humor before. You keep insulting me. First you accuse me of missing, and then you try to tell me I have a sense of humor."
His face was made of stone, his tone devoid of all expression. His eyes were flat and ice cold, but Dahlia felt him laughing. Nothing big, but it was there in the boat between then, and the terrible pressure in her chest lifted a bit. "And it needs work," she pointed out. "Get it right." She even managed a brief smile of her own to match his.
“You learned several forms of martial arts."
"Yes, and for the most part, because I was doing something physical and most of my instructors enjoyed what they were doing, it was fun. Later, as I got older and they were serious about training me, I was faster than the instructors, and some of them would get angry."
"Honey, that's entirely understandable. You're barely five feet tall, and you can't weigh a hundred pounds. To make matters worse, you're a girl. Kicking some man's butt is not ladylike.”
“I think my vision's blurred," he murmured.
She responded with a hesitant laugh. "If that's all that happened, you're a heck of a better kisser than I am. I can't stand up."
"I'm afraid to touch you. We might go up in flames."
She sighed. "The story of my life... cell phones have a way of disliking the bayou and the river. It must be water thing."
"But what about when you weren't in the bayou? Surely Calhoun gave you a cell phone to keep in touch when you were in town."
"I melted two of them. He decided it wasn't worth it."
He looked down at her to see if she was teasing him. Her gaze was all too serious. "You melted them?"
She nodded. "I melt things. Accidentally."
Nicholas wasn't touching that. Considering all that melting going on inside of him any time he was close to her he could believe she'd melted a couple of phones. After all, they were much smaller than he was. His breath chuffed out and he took her hand, deciding to try to diffuse the situation. "Try not to melt any body parts.”
“His energy is very malevolent Don't get sick or I'll start asking you if the baby is all right in front of him.”
As a child he had grown up without a mother or even a grandmother. He had never really explored emotional relationships or marriage. He'd never been given advice on the matter. The closest he'd really come to seeing a relationship was watching Ryland Miller pursue Lily. The man had lost his mind. Nicholas had a feeling he'd joined the ranks of en losing their mind over women.
“You listen to me this one time, Dahlia. If something goes wrong, anything at all, you haul butt out of here fast. You have the cell phone and the number. Call Lily. The Ghost Walkers will be here as soon as possible."
She caught him before he could turn away. "You listen to me this one time, Nicholas. If anything goes wrong, don't be a hero. Haul your butt out of there and in one piece. We'll call Lily, and she can send the others.”
There were a thousand secrets in her eyes, a thousand wounds. A lifetime of distrust and betrayal. Isolation. How did one overcome such things? Nicholas wanted to believe in fairy tales. She'd read her share, hoping for miracles, but in the end, there was no hundred acre wood to play in with her little stuffed animals. There was pain and crushing disillusionment and betrayal.
Suddenly Gator was framed in the doorway, grinning at them, his black unruly hair tumbling into his face and his piercing blue eyes bright with laughter. "Oh, I see you are most friendly with each other. And Lily was so worried." He turned his head. "Ian Tucker, come look at this. Our man has found himself a little kitty cat."
"Shut up, Gator, or I'm going to shoot you." Nicholas put the gun away and looked down at dahlia. She had the covers pulled up to her chin. Her eyes were enormous and getting bigger by the moment as more Ghost Walkers crowded into the doorway to gape at the sight of Nicholas, the loner, in bed with Dahlia
"And you said he didn't know what to do with a woman," Tucker Addison accused the tallest of the group, Ian McGillicuddy.
"I stand corrected." Ian gave Nicholas a small salute Dahlia made a small distressed squeak.
Nicholas picked up the gun. "I'm going to start shooting if the lot of you don't get out and close the door."
"What a poor sport," Gator groused. "And this is my house.”
“Do you think anything else can go wrong tonight?" Kaden turned to look at Nicholas coming up behind her and nodded.
"Yes ma'am. I'd say all kinds of things could go wrong.”
"...Just don't break my heart my heart, Dahlia. I've never handed it over to anyone before."
She placed both hands over his. "I've never had anyone's heart. I don't know the first thing about keeping hearts. You're taking a terrible risk."
"That's what I do best."
"Are you feeling relaxed now?"
"I was until you started throwing around the L-word. That's enough to scare anyone”
“Cute? You think he's cute? What's cute about him?”
“Well, yes. He's got that smile, that really bad boy smile, and a great backside.”
“On page eighty of the relationship manual, it clearly states, you cannot look at another man's backside, especially if you think it's great.”
The men gasped at Nicholas. "That's the most I've heard him say in three years." Sam said. He turned to the others. "You ever hear him talk that much?"
"I wasn't sure he could talk," Tucker Addison replied straight-faced.
"He talks," Dahlia said defensively
"Begging your pardon, ma'am, but he's just plain anti-social," Sam pointed out, "Always had been, always will be.”
“That be the jealousy talking," Gator said, in no way perturbed. "I can't help the way the women love me. I was born with the gift."
The men hooted and made rude noises. "You were born with a gift of bullshitting." Sam pointed out, "but that's about it." He looked at Dahlia. "Pardon me, ma'am, but its the truth."
"I rather thought it was," she agreed.
“I don't suppose you cook?" Tucker inquired hopefully.
"Did you think because she can start fires she'd be great with a grill”? Gator asked.
“Baby don't do this." He whispered the words. Why did he thought if she cried she'd feel better? It was too much, too much sorrow for her. He pulled her beneath him, lying over her, somehow trying with his body to protect her from the grief.
She came awake, her eyes wide, black. Swimming with tears. "Nicholas? What is it?"
He touched his face, the lines of worry there "You're crying, honey. I thought it would be good for you to cry, but not like this, not in your sleep where I can't share it with you."
"I can't be crying." Dahlia wiped at the tears on her face with a kind of horror. "I never cry."
"You are crying."
"I can't stop." She looked desperate.
"Make me stop, Nicholas, Make it stop.”
“You aren't worried are you?"
"Why should I be worried? It's just another day in the neighborhood. You know - bombs, fires, people shooting at you. Why should I be worried? Especially since we could be clothes shopping or boarding a plane. I'm not in the least worried."
"Hmmm," he mused allowed. "I read about this in the relationship manual. It's called womanly sarcasm and usually means a man is in deep trouble.”
"I hit what I was aiming at," he answered quietly.
"We have to keep moving. I'm hoping I slowed them down, but we can't count on it." He forced the oars through the water with his powerful arms and the boat shot through the channel toward open water "I didn't feel anything."
His gaze brushed her face, an odd little caress she felt all the way through her body, just as if he'd touched her with his fingers. "I wasn't aiming at you."
She caught the fleeting glint of his white teeth in what could have been a brief smile. One dark eyebrow rose in response. "Has anyone ever told you your sense of humor needs a little work?"
"No one's ever accused me of having a sense of humor before. You keep insulting me. First you accuse me of missing, and then you try to tell me I have a sense of humor."
His face was made of stone, his tone devoid of all expression. His eyes were flat and ice cold, but Dahlia felt him laughing. Nothing big, but it was there in the boat between then, and the terrible pressure in her chest lifted a bit. "And it needs work," she pointed out. "Get it right." She even managed a brief smile of her own to match his.
“You learned several forms of martial arts."
"Yes, and for the most part, because I was doing something physical and most of my instructors enjoyed what they were doing, it was fun. Later, as I got older and they were serious about training me, I was faster than the instructors, and some of them would get angry."
"Honey, that's entirely understandable. You're barely five feet tall, and you can't weigh a hundred pounds. To make matters worse, you're a girl. Kicking some man's butt is not ladylike.”
“I think my vision's blurred," he murmured.
She responded with a hesitant laugh. "If that's all that happened, you're a heck of a better kisser than I am. I can't stand up."
"I'm afraid to touch you. We might go up in flames."
She sighed. "The story of my life... cell phones have a way of disliking the bayou and the river. It must be water thing."
"But what about when you weren't in the bayou? Surely Calhoun gave you a cell phone to keep in touch when you were in town."
"I melted two of them. He decided it wasn't worth it."
He looked down at her to see if she was teasing him. Her gaze was all too serious. "You melted them?"
She nodded. "I melt things. Accidentally."
Nicholas wasn't touching that. Considering all that melting going on inside of him any time he was close to her he could believe she'd melted a couple of phones. After all, they were much smaller than he was. His breath chuffed out and he took her hand, deciding to try to diffuse the situation. "Try not to melt any body parts.”
“His energy is very malevolent Don't get sick or I'll start asking you if the baby is all right in front of him.”
As a child he had grown up without a mother or even a grandmother. He had never really explored emotional relationships or marriage. He'd never been given advice on the matter. The closest he'd really come to seeing a relationship was watching Ryland Miller pursue Lily. The man had lost his mind. Nicholas had a feeling he'd joined the ranks of en losing their mind over women.
“You listen to me this one time, Dahlia. If something goes wrong, anything at all, you haul butt out of here fast. You have the cell phone and the number. Call Lily. The Ghost Walkers will be here as soon as possible."
She caught him before he could turn away. "You listen to me this one time, Nicholas. If anything goes wrong, don't be a hero. Haul your butt out of there and in one piece. We'll call Lily, and she can send the others.”
There were a thousand secrets in her eyes, a thousand wounds. A lifetime of distrust and betrayal. Isolation. How did one overcome such things? Nicholas wanted to believe in fairy tales. She'd read her share, hoping for miracles, but in the end, there was no hundred acre wood to play in with her little stuffed animals. There was pain and crushing disillusionment and betrayal.
Suddenly Gator was framed in the doorway, grinning at them, his black unruly hair tumbling into his face and his piercing blue eyes bright with laughter. "Oh, I see you are most friendly with each other. And Lily was so worried." He turned his head. "Ian Tucker, come look at this. Our man has found himself a little kitty cat."
"Shut up, Gator, or I'm going to shoot you." Nicholas put the gun away and looked down at dahlia. She had the covers pulled up to her chin. Her eyes were enormous and getting bigger by the moment as more Ghost Walkers crowded into the doorway to gape at the sight of Nicholas, the loner, in bed with Dahlia
"And you said he didn't know what to do with a woman," Tucker Addison accused the tallest of the group, Ian McGillicuddy.
"I stand corrected." Ian gave Nicholas a small salute Dahlia made a small distressed squeak.
Nicholas picked up the gun. "I'm going to start shooting if the lot of you don't get out and close the door."
"What a poor sport," Gator groused. "And this is my house.”
“Do you think anything else can go wrong tonight?" Kaden turned to look at Nicholas coming up behind her and nodded.
"Yes ma'am. I'd say all kinds of things could go wrong.”
"...Just don't break my heart my heart, Dahlia. I've never handed it over to anyone before."
She placed both hands over his. "I've never had anyone's heart. I don't know the first thing about keeping hearts. You're taking a terrible risk."
"That's what I do best."
"Are you feeling relaxed now?"
"I was until you started throwing around the L-word. That's enough to scare anyone”
“Cute? You think he's cute? What's cute about him?”
“Well, yes. He's got that smile, that really bad boy smile, and a great backside.”
“On page eighty of the relationship manual, it clearly states, you cannot look at another man's backside, especially if you think it's great.”
The men gasped at Nicholas. "That's the most I've heard him say in three years." Sam said. He turned to the others. "You ever hear him talk that much?"
"I wasn't sure he could talk," Tucker Addison replied straight-faced.
"He talks," Dahlia said defensively
"Begging your pardon, ma'am, but he's just plain anti-social," Sam pointed out, "Always had been, always will be.”
“That be the jealousy talking," Gator said, in no way perturbed. "I can't help the way the women love me. I was born with the gift."
The men hooted and made rude noises. "You were born with a gift of bullshitting." Sam pointed out, "but that's about it." He looked at Dahlia. "Pardon me, ma'am, but its the truth."
"I rather thought it was," she agreed.
“I don't suppose you cook?" Tucker inquired hopefully.
"Did you think because she can start fires she'd be great with a grill”? Gator asked.
“Baby don't do this." He whispered the words. Why did he thought if she cried she'd feel better? It was too much, too much sorrow for her. He pulled her beneath him, lying over her, somehow trying with his body to protect her from the grief.
She came awake, her eyes wide, black. Swimming with tears. "Nicholas? What is it?"
He touched his face, the lines of worry there "You're crying, honey. I thought it would be good for you to cry, but not like this, not in your sleep where I can't share it with you."
"I can't be crying." Dahlia wiped at the tears on her face with a kind of horror. "I never cry."
"You are crying."
"I can't stop." She looked desperate.
"Make me stop, Nicholas, Make it stop.”
“You aren't worried are you?"
"Why should I be worried? It's just another day in the neighborhood. You know - bombs, fires, people shooting at you. Why should I be worried? Especially since we could be clothes shopping or boarding a plane. I'm not in the least worried."
"Hmmm," he mused allowed. "I read about this in the relationship manual. It's called womanly sarcasm and usually means a man is in deep trouble.”
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