Redeeming Her SEAL (ASSIGNMENT Caribbean Nights #9) - Kat Cantrell Page 0,49

Thank God he had too, or they’d never have taken these baby steps forward.

“I was never confused about whether you were a good guy, Charlie.”

“Doing the right thing doesn’t make me a good guy,” he corrected her, and his tone hadn’t changed but the words were harsh nonetheless. “What happened while I was in Iraq isn’t something I can discuss. The only thing you need to understand is that I was in a bad place and made what I thought was the best decision at the time. I hurt you, and I’m sorry. But I can’t promise that I won’t do it again.”

Her pulse went into a freefall. “What are you saying, that you’re not going to tell me why you sent that text message?”

Not only that, he was basically telling her that she still couldn’t trust him not to break her heart again.

“I can’t.” Short. Devastating.

Because he refused to or was it classified? He’d warned her that being the girlfriend of a SEAL had unusual stresses and difficulties. At the time, she’d thought she’d fit the bill, because independent was her middle name. But that had been before the foreign quality known as neediness had walloped her from out of nowhere.

“Enough with this conversation,” he growled, and she shut her eyes.

Her relationship with Charlie still teetered precariously. Even now. No longer were they clinging to the edge where all it would take was one small rock to slip under their feet and they’d cascade into the abyss. But in reality, they’d only backed away from the cliff a couple of steps.

This was her opportunity to be there for Charlie the way he’d just been there for her, no questions asked. If he couldn’t talk about Iraq, fine. They’d avoid that subject. And Jared too, at least until all of the problems Jared had caused were resolved—which was easier said than done.

So the choices were to forget the past and move on with what Charlie could give her. Or cling to the past and move on without Charlie. Seemed like a no-brainer to her.

Was she strong and independent or what? This was where the rubber met the road. Either she needed a crutch or she didn’t. Perfect opportunity to prove that no matter what happened with Charlie, she would be okay on her own this time.

“Can we forget about the next round of ice and just get into bed?” she asked, desperate to change the tone back to one she liked.

“We’re in bed.” The amusement in the comment warmed her because he at least seemed willing to let her change the subject and wasn’t going to disappear just because she’d pushed him into a place he didn’t want to go.

“We’re on the bed. I want to get under the covers and sleep. With you. All night long.” If he held on to her, everything would be okay. In the morning, they’d be together, and that was enough for now.

“I could do that.”

He helped her strip down to her panties and slide on a tank top, strictly by feel alone, and she gained a new appreciation for just how strong his will was, because the simple brush of his fingers on her skin put a hitch in her lungs and a slow burn everywhere else. Didn’t he feel it too? Or was she that resistible all at once?

He got her resettled and shed his own clothes, then climbed back into place, spooning her up against his mostly bare body. She could feel the fabric of his briefs against her butt… among other things. The stiff erection was nice too. Yeah, he was not so unaffected by her proximity after all. She resisted wiggling against him because that would be torturous for her too. And she hadn’t been expecting him, so she hadn’t made any recent trips to the drug store.

Once again, they were without condoms, unless he’d had the foresight, and frankly, she didn’t want to know at this point.

“Charlie?”

“Yeah, sweetheart.”

He’d called her that like ten times tonight. Had he even registered that he’d shifted the way he subconsciously thought about her? The glow it put inside rivaled everything physical he’d ever done to her. “If you think you have to do something else for my own good that might work out like last time, can you just tell me? Whatever it is, I can take it. I—”

She cut herself off because maybe she couldn’t. She’d caved into the loneliness and the grief and jumped on the first warm body that