Nonstop (Open Skies #3) - Becca Jameson Page 0,58

couldn’t help but smile at how eager he was to pull her down to the water. The inlet was far enough from the main body of the ocean that the only waves were more of a gentle lapping of water. Calming. Soothing.

She sighed as she leaned back against his chest. “I could get used to this.”

“Good. We’ll stay as long as you’d like.”

The next four days were about as perfect as Bex could ask for. Bill and Joan were amazing. They were nothing like her parents. Bill and Joan were extroverts. They were talkative and open about their lives.

Bex’s own parents, Rex and Tricia Safire, were nice enough people. Bex couldn’t complain about them. It’s just that they were incredibly conservative. Maybe staid or proper would be a better description.

Joan had been extremely respectful of Bex’s tendency to keep to herself, but at the same time, she’d made it perfectly clear that if Bex ever wanted to talk about anything at all, even just to vent, she was available. She didn’t pry, but she took the time to tell Bex stories about events in her own life that had shaped her. Her own trials over the years and how she overcame them.

On the fourth morning, when Bex wandered into the bedroom she was sharing with Bracken in one wing of the house, mug of coffee in hand, he was just coming out of the bathroom. “Hey.” He took the coffee from her, set it on the dresser, and pulled her into his arms.

He was still in his shorts from sleeping. “I heard my mom talking to you. I hope she’s not making you uncomfortable.” He smiled. “Please tell me she hasn’t mentioned china patterns or baby clothes.”

Bex chuckled. “Not at all. She’s lovely.” There was no way to hide the twinge of sadness Bex felt though, and she sighed as she snuggled in closer to Bracken, hugging him tightly, absorbing his strength and warmth.

“Talk to me.” He took her by the hand and lured her back to the bed, tugging her down next to him. After glancing at the open door, he held up a finger, climbed back over her, and then shut and locked the door.

Moments later, he was back at her side. He wasted no time, getting right to the point of whatever he wanted to say. “Sometimes you seem kind of faraway, maybe a little nostalgic or sad when my mom is talking. It worries me.”

She slid her hand up his bare chest, loving the feel of his muscles against her palm. They hadn’t had sex since they’d arrived. Even though Bracken had made a point of insisting he wouldn’t go a single night without making love to her, he had simply held her every night. She knew it was because of the terrorist attack and had nothing to do with honoring her nervous concern about having sex in his parents’ home.

He lifted her chin, making her realize she was staring at his chest still.

She sighed. “It has nothing to do with your mom. She’s amazing. I love her. It’s that being here with your perfectly normal parents has made me realize more than ever how not normal mine are.”

He frowned. “You’ve told me about them several times. You’ve never mentioned anything overly odd about them.”

She licked her lips. “Well, I told you they’re religious. Not that that matters. It doesn’t, really. It’s just that I’m realizing more and more that they did me a disservice when they moved me away from my high school and then stopped discussing what had happened as if it had never occurred.”

He slid a hand up her waist. “You mentioned that when we met with Dr. Rawlins. It must have been painful.”

She shrugged. “I didn’t think much about it at the time, and I know they meant well. They thought they were doing the right thing by me. But the truth is that I probably wouldn’t be quite so unhinged now if I’d been able to fully deal with my problems years ago.”

He nodded. “I get that. I can’t imagine going that many years without talking about your feelings and how the trauma affected you.”

She met his gaze. “My stupid problems surely seem trivial to you. I’m sure you’ve been through a thousand worse experiences.”

He shook his head. “You can’t make that comparison, baby. For one thing, even though I’ve witnessed horrors you can never imagine, they weren’t happening to me. They were happening to other people. I had to disassociate