Dead Even - Mariah Stewart [92]
“You used to call it hot monkey sex.”
“That was when I was immature. Before . . .”
“Before what?”
“Before I realized I was starting to fall in love with you.” He never took his eyes from the road.
“Oh.” The tiny word escaped from her mouth without her even being aware of it. She couldn’t think of a single word to say, he’d taken her so off guard. So she simply repeated, “Oh.”
“Now, I’ve come to realize that you don’t understand what love is . . . no, don’t interrupt me.” He held up a hand when she appeared about to rebut. “You don’t, Miranda. You understand great sex, and you understand friendship, but you don’t understand the rest of it. The heart stuff.”
“That’s the stupidest thing anyone ever said to me,” she blurted out.
“Oh, speaking of maturity—”
“If you weren’t driving, I’d—”
“Spare me. You’re only trying to change the subject.”
“You think I’m not capable of loving someone?”
“That is not what I said. I think you’re more than capable. I just think you don’t want to.”
When she didn’t respond, he said, “You look at what went on between your mother and your father, and you think, Who needs that? Who needs a man who comes and goes, in and out of your life, the way Jack came and went in and out of your mother’s. You saw what that did to her, so you want none of it. I can respect that.”
She looked at him, her eyes dark, unreadable.
“But I am not Jack, Miranda. I won’t love you and leave you, and I’m tired as hell of coming in and out of your life. If you’d let me, I’d stay, for as long as you wanted me.” He took a deep breath. “If you’d let me, I’d take this as far as it could go, wherever it leads. If you’d let me.”
“It seems like you’re always leaving me.” The words were so soft, he wasn’t certain at first that she’d spoken at all.
“Sometimes you’re the one who leaves,” he reminded her. “Assignments sometimes come in the middle of the night; we both know that. It isn’t always me leaving you, babe.”
“It feels like you’re always the one to go. It hurts, Will. It hurts when I wake up in the morning and you’re gone. I never know if it’s been just a good time, or if it meant something more to you. You never told me how you felt.” She could have added, And I knew just how my mother must have felt, but she couldn’t bring herself to say it.
“Neither did you.”
“Everyone knows the man is supposed to say it first.”
“I just did,” he reminded her.
Miranda put her face in her hands, and he reached over and gently pulled them away.
“Let’s start by not hiding anymore, okay? Over the past few years, we’ve each found a hundred ways to hide from each other.” His voice grew soft. “Let’s stop doing that, okay?”
Will drove with both hands on the wheel, as if needing something sure to hold on to. He’d put his heart on the line. He was so afraid of what might come next.
“So, what do you say, Cahill?” he asked, trying to infuse his voice with a lightness he did not feel.
“I don’t know what to say. I think I’m terrified.”
“Oh, that’s encouraging,” he muttered dryly.
Feeling rebuffed, he fell back into silence.
A few miles down the road, she said, “Are you saying you don’t want to sleep with me unless there’s something more than friendship between us?”
“I didn’t say that exactly, but that pretty much sums it up. Strange as it may sound, sex just isn’t enough for me anymore. I want it all, but I want it all at the same time. Body, mind, heart.”
“You left out soul.”
“Everyone’s entitled to keep a little something for themselves.”
“You realize you’ve rendered me pretty much speechless, don’t you?”
“That’s a first.”
“Will . . .”
“Hmmm?”
“That was our exit.”
“Swell.” He glanced in the rearview mirror in time to see the sign fade around the bend.
“The next one is just around that next curve, if I remember correctly.” She pointed