He quirked an eyebrow, not smiling. Already she could feel the restrained irritation resurrecting within him.
"Fine. Incredible sex." Better than anything she could remember, sex that touched places of her soul she didn't know existed. "That hasn't helped us before."
Still, he kept his temper reined, cupped her shoulders, his hands on her always a distraction. He almost certainly knew that and was using it, damn him.
"I get your point, babe, but we're talking like you always wanted. Hell, I've talked more in the past two weeks than I did the whole time I was growing up."
He had a point, and she wanted to be swayed as much as she wanted to dig in her bare feet and stand her ground. Problem was, when this man finally decided to speak, he could talk her out of her good sense as fast as he could her clothes and heart. "We need an impartial third party to help us sort through some tough issues."
"I figure we've passed a few landmarks," he continued as if she hadn't even spoken. "Sure we've had arguments, but I haven't walked out of the room and you haven't thrown a dish. That's progress."
"Not funny."
"Yes, it is."
Her lips twitched. "Maybe a little."
"So what's the problem? We've got a good thing going. Let's roll with it."
"Yes, things are improving. We both still have feelings for each other." She kept her eyes on the neck of his flight suit rather than risk falling into his smoky eyes. "But we're deluding ourselves if we think everything's magically going to get better. This—" she waved her hand in the general direction of their bed—a bed that was waiting too conveniently close for her peace of mind "—is wonderful, but it's a Band-Aid fix. What's changed to keep us from landing back in the same hurtful place?"
"We're older. Smarter."
She snorted. "We're older, anyway." Grabbing hold of her resolve while sticking strong to her decision not to grab hold of him, she stared straight into his eyes. "Jesus, J.T., can't you see that even with progress, we're also still making some of the same mistakes?"
He exhaled long, slow, pissed. "So use the counselor degree and tell me what I should do."
She forced her own arms to stay at her sides as much as she wanted to cross them, close herself off. "It's not you. It's us. And you know I can't do that, anyway. It's like telling a doctor to diagnose and treat herself. There's no way to obtain impartial distance."
"You're great just the way you are."
"Quit BSing me, J.T." She resisted the urge to stomp her foot, which would only hurt and not accomplish squat except to give away her frustration level when it came to this infuriating, sexy, heartbreakingly wonderful man. "I may not he able to heal my own family, but I know enough to realize it takes two to make or break a marriage."
"We can't afford it," he said, thumbing the ultrasound photo off the dresser, "especially not with a new kid on the way."
"We can't afford not to, especially with a new baby on the way."
He replaced the photo, sliding a crystal ring dish to the side and out of her tossing reach, a smile playing with his dimples.
Damn it, she would not be charmed by his quiet humor. Not now. His dimple deepened.
Maybe she was a little charmed.
She closed the distance between them and flattened a hand to his chest. "It's free at the base clinic, covered as part of your benefits. Family Advocacy is there for a reason."
How could dimples turn to a scowl so quickly? "I'm not putting my problems on record there."
"Confidentiality applies."
"Yeah, right. Until someone sees me walking out of there. Fliers can't afford a hint of personal problems."
"And a broken marriage isn't a hint?"
"No."
Deep breaths. She toyed with straightening his collar while she regulated her breathing and organized her thoughts. "All right, you have a real problem with counseling. I'm trying not to be insulted that you think so little of my career field.">Spike swung a door open to a small interrogation room, sparse, stark and a helluva lot less dirty and dark than its counterpart in Rubistan. They'd already exchanged the basic info on Chris's situation out in Spike's office before the OSI agent had gone silent, then suggested they take the rest of the conversation to a more secure part of the building.
J.T. dropped into one of the unrelenting chairs in the windowless room in a completely windowless building. "Thanks again for coming in early after pulling an all-nighter."