"You said the birds glided away, which made me think of our glider date when you told me that was the first craft you flew. You fly like your birds."
He'd forgotten how insightful she could be. "I guess I do."
"To leave the rest behind like I did at Ramon's."
Maybe more insightful than he liked. He crumpled the empty bag. "You're reading too much into what I said."
"Am I?" She set aside the bowl and joined him by the window. "Who came out there with you?"
"Sara—"
"You sat there alone to be safe in your neighborhood?"
"Ditch the sympathy." He lobbed the wadded bag into the trash. "I would have been antisocial in a big family in middle-class suburbs. That's the way I'm wired."
"Of course," she said to pacify him, no doubt. She leaned her head against the window frame, staring outside and inhaling.
He sniffed and, damn, the rose bushes outside scented the air. He wouldn't have noticed if not for her. The rise and fall of her chest as she savored the smell proved hypnotic. He reached through the window and plucked a bloom, ignoring a thorn prick, a fair price to pay. When Lucas pulled his arm inside, her eyes were still closed. "I wanted you to know that if a hard-ass like me could watch birds fly away, then you probably shouldn't feel silly about blowing bubbles with your kid and making a few wishes of your own."
He stroked the rose down her cheek.
Her lashes fluttered open, her lips parting with surprise, then a sigh as she closed her eyes again. Her head fell back, which he took as an open invitation. He skimmed the flower over her collarbone and wondered why he'd never thought to do this before. The woman adored flowers and he loved...
Whoa.
What?
Yeah.
He loved Sara. He'd been scared as hell of loving her before, more so since losing her. But no one grieved as hard as he had without strong emotion, the strongest. Which brought him full circle.
Here he was, loving her, wanting her, and he still wasn't certain how she felt. Sure she needed him, but there were plenty of people who could take care of her.
Not this way though, damn it. He teased the rose down her arm, an innocent touch in comparison to others they'd shared. He thought of her tears when they'd made love.
He knew now how strong she was. But whether she wanted to admit it or not, all Chavez's crap would have left marks on her.
Lucas guided the rose like a paintbrush over each finger on her left hand, lingering on the spot he intended to put his ring someday. He would never take simple pleasures for granted again. For now, he wanted to pamper her as she deserved. Of course they couldn't have sex while a child slept a few feet away.
He would just have to show Sara they could feel alive in a variety of ways.
Sweeping aside the plastic curtain in the tiny shower stall, Sara reached for a towel in the empty bathroom.
Empty?
She stifled disappointment. After the way Lucas had teased her with the rose, she'd half expected him to join her. But of course Lucia was in the next room, and even with guards posted, Ramon's threat loomed.
Still she wouldn't have minded one stolen kiss to carry her through the rest of the night. Not that she looked particularly alluring with her straggly wet hair and jogging shorts and T-shirt, both in drab gray with USAF stamped on them in dark blue letters. Borrowed from the taller Darcy Renshaw, the clothes hung loosely, but at least they were clean.
She shrugged off silly vanity. She and Lucas were beyond that, right? They were both more practical souls these days. Or rather, he had always been pragmatic and she'd finally caught up. She would enjoy the gift of sleeping in his arms, replaying in her mind the things he'd shared with her, more in a few minutes than during the months they'd dated and made love.
Sara swung open the door to their shared room, blinking to adjust to the dark. Was he already asleep? It was after one in the morning, and he'd already pushed himself beyond normal human endurance. She creaked the bathroom door wider to slant enough light through to make her way across without kicking something over and disturbing Lucia or Lucas. Illumination slanted over the double bed.
A bed scattered with rose petals.
A lean, gorgeous man stretched out in the middle, apparently uncaring that his flight suit and boots would smell like flowers. "I know we can't do anything much with the kiddo nearby. But I figured, hey—" he shrugged "—I still owe you some 'morning after' romance."
"This is lovely. Gracias." She strolled toward the bed and hitched a knee on the edge of the mattress.