Whoa. Marriage?
Wasn't he thinking about trying the dating thing as grown-ups? Not that they'd ever really dated in the first place, just shot straight from pals to nonstop sex. The next logical step included taking things slow, spending time together, healing old wounds and progressing from there.
But he couldn't stop thinking about her old engagement ring in his flight suit pocket, his permanent reminder not to repeat past mistakes. Couldn't stop remembering what it had once looked like planted on Mary Elise's finger.
She scrunched her toes, drawing him from his haze. "Ouch," she squawked.
His hand jerked away from her foot. "Damn, 'Lise, I'm sorry."
"Gotcha!" She toed him in the side again, her gaze unrelenting. "I told you already. I'm not going to break."
He smiled. God, he loved her spunk, her steely will. This woman was far from breakable.
Memories bombarded him of their hours together, rediscovering each other on the water bed. The floor. The sofa. "I figured that out."
"I'm stronger out of bed, too. I realize there are things about your job you can't tell me. But don't hold back on what you can share because you're worried I'll turn all Victorian on you and you'll need smelling salts. Got it?"
He forestalled her lethal toe. "Yes, ma'am." The ring in his pocket seemed to scorch a brand through the fabric and into his skin. If he even intended to consider those thoughts, then she needed to know more about him before they both landed in way over their heads. "About connections, let's just say once you get a high-security clearance for one mission they tend to tap you for other missions since you're already in the loop."
"And you enjoy that," she answered with understanding and no censure.
"Oh, yeah."
Her fingers trekked inside the leg of his flight suit, scratched along his calf. "And you enjoy that?"
"Oh, yeah," he repeated. "I think I could really get into this shared control gig."
Next thing he knew, he had the ring out of his pocket and wasn't sure who was more shocked, him or Mary Elise.
Her hand flew out of his pants leg. "You kept it."
He worked the solitaire between two fingers until the diamond caught the fading sunlight, casting multifaceted sparks. "So I wouldn't forget what a relationship screw-up I am like my father."
"Danny," her fingers slid to his knee, "you made a single mistake at twenty-one. For God's sake, that doesn't make you like your father."
"I don't do relationships well, never have. There are plenty of women besides you who can attest to that. And just look at the mess with my father."
"He was proud of you."
Daniel jammed the ring back in his pocket where it could brand a reminder he needed before he ended up doing something totally illogical like asking this woman to marry him. "So damned much he didn't trust me enough to tell me when you came to Rubistan."
"I told him not to."
"So?" If that sounded arrogant, big freaking deal. His father should have called him, anyway.
"I wasn't in a good place right then." She plucked a leaf from a low-hanging branch, crumpled it in her hand.
"I can understand having someone try to kill you must have been rattling as hell. All the more reason extra support and protection should have been a good thing."
"Not just that." She studied him for four lazy swishes of the Pawley's hammock, her fist further mangling the leaf. "How much did you learn about endometriosis on the Internet while I was sleeping?"
"What makes you think—" He swung his foot back up on the hammock. "Ah hell, you used to do that when we were kids, too, read my mind and then follow me right into my messes. Yeah, I did some reading, wanted to understand how to help you. Where's the crime in that?"
"You can back off the defensive, Baker. I just wanted to confirm you have a core knowledge here."
He gave her a simple nod. This was obviously tough enough for her. He didn't want to make it worse by shoving his boot in his mouth.
"Then you know the more scar tissue that builds up, the more difficult it is to conceive, which explains how it was easier for me to become pregnant when I younger. But then in some cases with endometriosis, even if pregnancy occurs, the body—" she unfurled her fist and let the wind carry away the shredded leaf "—my body can be a hostile environment. Miscarriage rates are higher."