Her last?
"Do you mind if I ask why you waited so long?" He stretched his foot to turn off the water.
He'd shared so much about himself and his growing-up years, it seemed selfish to hold back, especially when her past was so much less traumatic than his. "My parents had to get married when my mom was only eighteen. Mom was already pregnant with me. It's not something we discussed, but I always wondered if they fought because of me."
"You know better now, right?"
Sort of. "Chris told me he brought up my 'premature' birth once and Dad almost decked him."
"Since your father's one of the least violent men I've ever met, that says a lot for how much he must love your mom."
"Yeah." The silent tension had grown so thick over the years, she couldn't wait to leave for college. "Still, Chris and I weren't surprised when they drew up divorce papers. They had a tough start, followed by a rocky couple of decades before everything came together for them."
Saying it out loud resurrected memories of childhood nights crying in her bed while her parents fought downstairs. Crying harder when they stopped talking altogether. "So why did I wait? I just wanted to be really, really sure before I committed even a part of myself to a guy."
Would he freak out now? Or would she beat him to the punch?
Nerves pattered in her stomach as she realized how close she was to giving more than a part of herself to Carson, a man who didn't cry for himself, but teared up over Bronco's little girl possibly losing her daddy.
Jeez, how selfish of her to have forgotten what brought him to her in the first place tonight. "Are you okay after everything that happened this afternoon?"
"I'm leveled out now. Thank you for letting me spill my guts like that back in the truck." Before she could answer, he flicked the drain on the tub, water sucking out. "We should dry off before we turn into a couple of prunes."
Vulnerability might be long suppressed, but she'd seen his sensitive side now and couldn't forget. She hauled herself from the tub and grabbed a coral towel, reaching for another for Carson from the wicker basket, wishing they could simply dry each other off and go to sleep. Instead, she kept thinking about what demons must be rumbling around inside of him after a day like today. Leveled out wasn't the same as okay. She knew that well from watching her parents interact after her father's capture in the Middle East.
Carson's capture, as well.
Nikki tugged the towel into a knot between her breasts. "What happened today must have brought back some awful memories of your own time overseas."
He grunted, toweling his legs dry.
Carson never just grunted. He might dodge direct answers but he was always, always polite. She thought about backing off and letting him have his space...but then she remembered how that tactic had nearly destroyed her parents.
Holy cow, was she thinking about being a couple? Well, she wasn't not thinking about it. She couldn't lie to herself. She had feelings for this man that deserved exploring, which meant no half-measure crushes where they never looked below the surface.
Towel drying her hair, she stared at his steamy reflection as he stood behind her tying his towel around his lean hips. "I heard my dad's version of what happened to your crew overseas." The towel slid from her shaking hands. Kneeling, she scooped it into the hamper. "It took him a while to talk about it, but after he and Mom started marriage counseling, they decided Chris and I should know what happened when he was shot down and captured by those warlords. We're adults after all. They both decided they'd sheltered us too much from things growing up."
"Do you agree?" He draped his dog tags around his neck.
Tugging the comb through her gnarled hair, Nikki wished her life could be as easily untangled. "Certainly Chris and I knew something was going on between Mom and Dad. It was tough growing up with him gone so much, and Mom pretending everything was fine."
She turned to lean against the vanity, taking in his golden gorgeous face marred only by a tiny scar along his jaw. A scar that somehow made him all the more handsome for the human imperfection.
A scar he'd gotten during his time in the Middle East.
She traced the faded white line cutting through his five o'clock shadow and wondered about the scars he carried inside from his childhood, as well. "Hearing the truth might have reassured us since sometimes reality isn't as bad as what you're fearing."
He enfolded her hand and pressed a kiss to her wrist, right on her racing pulse. "You're talking about something else now."
"And you're a perceptive man."
Carson dropped her hand and strode from the bathroom. "If you're thinking about my parents, the reality is at least as harsh as whatever you would imagine."
The tile chilled under her feet as she stood in the doorway. "They hurt you?"
His back to her, he snagged his flight suit off the rocking chair in the corner. "Coked-up people don't know their own strength and lose a lot of inhibitions."
She wanted to wrap her arms around his waist, press her cheek to his shoulder, but she also didn't want to risk stopping his flow of words. She sank to rest at the foot of her bed in the middle of tangled sheets and the scent of them together. His handkerchief rested folded on top of her laundry and she still didn't know what that middle initial stood for.