Jacob gripped the steering wheel tighter. He’d done all he could for today. With a trip to the doctor and the cops. Now he couldn’t avoid thinking about what they’d learned from Doc Bennett.
Dee had a child.
Just when he’d thought he couldn’t be surprised anymore, there came the latest bombshell. Jacob slid the key into the ignition and cranked the engine. He hooked his arm along the seat, turning to look out the rear window as he backed out.
Seeing Dee stopped him cold.
She wasn’t crying, not outwardly. She simply sat, her fingers gripping the lap belt over her stomach. And she was shaking, not much, but enough for him to notice. Her teeth began chattering.
“The heat should kick in soon.”
She nodded tightly, her face front, her gaze veering neither left nor right.
He slid the truck back into Park. “You okay?”
Dee nodded again.
“You’re scaring me a little here.”
Her head tucked, the bare curve of her neck showing through the glide of her hair. “It’s a lot to take in. That’s all. I’ll be fine. How’s your arm?”
“I’m cleared to go back to work when my leave’s over in a couple of weeks.”
“That’s wonderful. I’m so relieved to hear it.”
Dee’s fists squeezed around the seat belt until her knuckles shone white as the tender line of her neck. He’d watched plenty of women pump out tears over the years, but he’d never seen one try so valiantly not to cry.
It caught him like a quick uppercut to the jaw. Anger began to take a backseat to sympathy and something else. Something dangerous that lured him to sling an arm along the back of her seat. “You’re not fine.”
She dipped her head lower and mumbled, “Rocket scientist as well as military hero and motel mogul.”
Jacob felt a chuckle escape. How could he not admire her grit? He should have realized she’d fire back, a way of going numb rather than launching into overemotionalism.
He notched a knuckle under her chin and lifted her face. “We’re going to find out who you are. And we’re going to find out about your child. I know you don’t always welcome my help, hell, anyone’s help, but I’m in for the long haul. Understand?”
She shrugged away, swiping the back of her hand across her eyes. “I’m sorry for not telling you before about the C-section scar.”
At least she’d begun to thaw, not that it relieved him the way it should have. “I know now, and we’re doing all we can. The world won’t end if we sit tight for a few minutes while you have a good cry.”
“Sobbing my eyes out won’t fix anything.”
She had that much right. Why then did he want to convince her she needed a good three-hanky vent?
Jacob unbuckled her seat belt and allowed himself to cup her shoulders. Even through her coat, he could feel her fragile bones, but he now knew she had a steely spine for support.
He tugged her toward him. “Come here.”
She resisted, as he’d known she would.
“I just need to hold you for a second, okay?”
Her back bowed as she angled away. “Why?”
He reminded himself he was only convincing her because she needed to be held. Not because he was locked in the grip of some fierce longing to press her against him and reassure himself. “Because you’re all right. I was worried about you. And because I know you must be scared as hell wondering if you have a kid out there somewhere!”
Dee sniffled and Jacob smiled, not because he was glad she’d begun crying but because for once he understood her. He could handle tears, dish out comfort. He pulled her to his chest. His forehead fell to rest against her hair. Motel shampoo mixed with the lingering antiseptic scent of the hospital.
For years, he’d accepted that the honed instinct to protect couldn’t be shut off at the end of a mission. The need to protect the woman in his arms throbbed through him. It scoured him, tearing away boundaries, leaving behind something more basic, fundamental, elemental.