Men of Courage II (13 page)

“I’m not complaining, mind you. You were a very focused, very intense man,” she went on. “So far, I’m thinking that hasn’t changed, either.” She paused then, and that half smile faltered a bit. Her eyes darkened and her voice was softer when she went on. “Those qualities were very seductive to the enthusiastic, driven, like-minded college student I was then. I’d always been a little in awe of you. You probably never even noticed my unstinting worship.”

“No,” he said, honestly, “I didn’t. I never considered myself a role model, just someone—”

“Interested in making an impact, and happy to have people around willing to help him make one,” she finished for him. “I know. That was part of why I respected you so much. I wanted to be like that.”

“What makes you think you aren’t?”

She didn’t answer right away, maybe a little surprised by the question.
Well, fair was fair,
he thought.

“You’ve made the most of your opportunities,” she
went on finally. “I haven’t done as well with reaching my goals.”

“Like what?”

“I spent two years in that lab-assistant job I took in Kansas, with the hope of getting into their research lab as a full-fledged researcher.”

“I remember.”

“Well, as you probably know, the funds for the program were yanked. Seeing as I’d yet to make the team, I was offered a spot in the National Weather Service’s field offices, working with the other meteorologists, doing general weather-tracking work.” He saw the flicker of a dry smile. “Not exactly my dream job.”

“So why did you stay?”

She shrugged. “I still had school loans hanging over my head, and without any other real opportunities, I chose to keep the steady paycheck, remain close to family.”

He grinned. “Dorothy back in Kansas.”

Marty had been raised in the Plains. Growing up on a farm, she’d been fascinated with storms pretty much since birth. From the day she’d transferred from Kansas State University to Oklahoma, his crew had teased her, nicknaming her Dorothy, constantly reminding her “she wasn’t in Kansas anymore.”

She smiled a little, too. “Yeah. You still have family in Virginia?”

Cooper had grown up south of Richmond, but every
summer his parents had sent him to stay with his grandfather on his farm in Oklahoma. He’d seen his first twister at age eight. His grandfather had been an amateur storm chaser and by the time Cooper was twelve, he’d been on more than a dozen hunts. “No. My folks took over my grandfather’s farm when he passed away. Turned it into a bed-and-breakfast, believe it or not.” He smiled. “More often than not, they rent out rooms to chase crews and college students.”

“So now you’re in D.C. and they’re in the Midwest. You guys switched places.”

“Yeah. But we manage to see each other often enough.” Mostly when they came to see him, or when he had speaking engagements out west.

“I’m sure they’re very proud of you, of what you’ve accomplished. And they should be.” She smiled a little when he raised his eyebrows in question. “I’ve followed your career. Just a little.”

He grinned at that, wondering if her interest had been personal or strictly professional. “I’m sure your parents feel the same.”

She just snorted. “Oh, they’re happy I’ve got a good job and pay my bills on time. But they know I’d hoped for more. I think I know, deep down, I could have pushed harder. I didn’t. Because it was safer not to.” She looked at him. “You would never do that. That’s the difference between us.”

“Don’t be so sure,” he told her. “I’ve played it safer than you know.” More, even, than he himself had realized. He’d always been driven, yes, and he loved his work, but when was the last time he’d even considered doing anything that wasn’t in the best interests of his job, his research? Even taking this promotion wasn’t for himself, but for the good of the job, of the people working for him. When had he taken his own needs out of the equation? he wondered. When had he let his work define him to the point that there was nothing else?

“I’ve never been a risk taker,” she told him.

Me, either,
he realized. In fact, giving in to his sudden desire for her during that explosive afternoon they’d shared might well be the last time he’d put his needs first. But he hadn’t been willing to risk reaching for more. Rather than go after her, he’d played it safe, too. “There are different kinds of risk,” he said, more to himself than to her.

“True,” she said, her smile self-deprecating now. “Funny how easy it is to chase Mother Nature’s finest fury around the countryside, with hardly a thought about the danger to life and limb. Hell, I even got buck naked in the back of your truck with hardly a blink. But boy, put me in a situation where I might have to bare my soul and I’m scared spitless.” Her lips quirked. “Why was it I could share my body with you, but not my feelings?”

And just like that he wanted to touch her again. He framed her face, drew his fingertips along her jaw before tilting her chin up so her gaze met his head-on. “What feelings were those?” he asked her in a quiet demand. “Tell me now.”

If she was surprised by his sudden intensity, she didn’t show it. Instead he felt her jaw firm as she gathered her resolve. She swallowed hard, but held his gaze. “That afternoon was a culmination of two of my biggest dreams. One professional. One very personal.”

Now it was his throat working.

“Because, you see, in addition to a little hero-worship, I was also head over heels in love with you.” Her mouth trembled into a dry twist of a smile. “I’m surprised you didn’t notice the drool.”

He rubbed the pad of his thumb over her lips. “I was a blind man. And a very dumb one.”

Once again she trembled beneath his touch and it was all he could do not to take that mouth again.

But before he could put action to thought, she went on, haltingly, but determinedly, “That afternoon was the ultimate fulfillment for me. I knew you hadn’t noticed me in that way, that I was simply in the right place at the right time. For you, it could have been anyone. But for me…” She shook her head. “I have no idea what you thought of me after that, of how easily I did, well, what we did.” She broke off, sighed. “It might have
been a reaction to adrenaline overload or whatever for you, but for me…it was all about you. I wouldn’t have done that with anyone else.”

“Marty—” he began, but she spoke before he could say anything else. Though, to be honest, he had no idea what he would have said to her. He’d had no idea how she’d felt. Before or after. Or now.

“I was afraid if I said anything, I’d blabber every last moony-eyed thought I’d ever had about you,” she told him. “Then you’d have had to pretend to be nice about the whole thing, and well…” She lifted a shoulder. “Back to the risk thing.”

Her confession floored him. And, as much as he wanted to believe that if she’d told him how she’d felt that day, he’d have jumped at the chance to pursue things with her, the truth was she might have been right. It wouldn’t have changed the fact that she’d graduated and was taking that job in Kansas.

At the moment, however, she wasn’t going anywhere.

Forcing thoughts of their current predicament from his mind, he moved closer, tipping her chin farther back. He slid the blanket from her arms, flipped it around her back, then used his grip on the corners to tug her close.

Her gaze dropped to his mouth, then lifted back to his eyes. There was no masking the very adult desire he saw there.

His fists tightened on the blanket and he fought the need to drag her to the floor right then and there. She’d claimed he hadn’t been tender, that he’d been too focused on work to know what it was to love. She didn’t know how right she was. And not much had changed in the ensuing years. He wasn’t particularly tender, or loving. But the one thing about Marty that hadn’t changed either was that she made him want to try.

A bit shakier than he wanted to admit, he brushed his lips across hers, swallowing a groan at her soft response. “Part of me wishes you’d told me how you felt,” he admitted, his voice rougher now. “I may have been too wrapped up in my work to notice your attraction to me. You pegged me right when you said I didn’t notice much of anything that wasn’t work-related back then. But you got my attention in a way no one ever had before.” He held her face in his hands, looked into her eyes, and put it out there. “Or since.”

She stilled under his touch, and he heard her breath catch. “And the other part of you?”

“The other part of me thinks that maybe that old saying is true, that everything happens as it does for a reason. You were leaving that day, graduating and moving back home. I was preoccupied with my research. You were just stepping out into the world. I’m not sure where it would have gone then.”

She searched his face. “Have things changed?”

His grip tightened. “I don’t know. But this time I don’t seem to care so much about the what-if’s and how-can-we’s. All I know is I feel like I’ve been given a second chance. Maybe there’s a reason for that, too.” He could hear the edge in his tone, but was unable to soften it. He couldn’t shake the sudden sense that it was imperative he make her understand.

“What are you asking me?”

“Do you feel like it’s a second chance, too?” He crowded her closer, knowing he was pushing, unable to stop. “Maybe it will be easier if we take the leap together this time.”

She tipped up on her toes and whispered, “I think maybe we already have.”

T
HEN
M
ARTY WOVE HER FINGERS
through his dark hair and pulled his mouth hard to hers. But even as she sank into the kiss, and felt him respond, the little voice in her head was telling her she had to stop it, and right now.

What she hated most was that the little voice was right.

She should have spoken up, about the whole job thing, before ever letting things escalate like this. She’d meant to earlier, when they were talking about her job history, and then they’d gotten sidetracked. And now they were really sidetracked. But then, they’d never been good about putting words before deeds. Or after for that matter.

Of course, it was the national board who made the final decision about the job. But as the open slot was on his former team, he probably had some say in the matter. And as the new director of the entire program, having a personal relationship with one of the research team might be frowned upon, something neither of them could afford. Worse, what if he thought she’d intentionally encouraged his attentions as a means of securing the job?

He slid his hands to her waist, gripping the edge of her shirt as his mouth found its way along her jaw, down the curve of her neck.
Step back right now.
But the blanket was in a tangle around her feet. Her breath caught as she felt his fingers skim beneath the hem of her sodden shirt and skate across the sensitive skin at the small of her back.

“We really need to get you out of those wet clothes,” he murmured against her ear.

As he began to tug her shirt up her torso, she gripped his forearms, stopping him, then sighed as she leaned away from him, ending the lovely contact of his nice, warm lips on her cold, damp skin. “I need to tell you something.” Even to her ears, the words came out sounding ominous.

He took a second to regroup, then said, “Are you involved with someone?”

She gaped at him for a moment, then snapped her mouth shut. “Are you?” she countered.

“Of course not,” he said immediately. “I would never—” He broke off when she merely stared at him. To his credit, his ensuing grin was sheepish, and his tone when he spoke was sincerely contrite. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t have made that particular leap. It was just the first thing that came to mind when you said what you did.”

“The reason I stopped you wasn’t a personal one,” she told him. “It’s professional.”

He frowned. “What are you talking about?” Then his expression cleared. “I know you’re up for the position at NSWC. In fact, when they asked for my input on the final two candidates, I recommended you.”

That stopped her. “You knew? I mean, this whole time? Why didn’t you say something?”

“I assumed you’d know that I would be aware of it.”

It took her a second to regroup. Okay, she needed more than a second. “So…you don’t have a problem with me…with us—” At a loss, she just made a swirly motion with her hand. “You know.”

“I honestly haven’t thought it through.” He held her gaze, his own was starkly sincere. “For once I was just doing what I wanted. For me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” she told him. “I just didn’t want you to think I was doing this to influence—”

“Please,” he said easily, which relieved her more than it should have.

Perhaps she was the one not giving him due credit when it came to personal ethics.

“You weren’t worried about working with me, were you?” he asked. “Because of our history.”

“No. Well, yes, but that didn’t keep me from applying.”

“So why didn’t you contact me directly then? You had to know I’d put in a good word for you.”

“If you’d been anyone else, I would have. But I felt like I’d be trading on our past. Our personal past.” Now
her
smile was a bit sheepish. “Or maybe I was just afraid I’d contact you to ask for help, and you’d have forgotten who I was altogether. I wasn’t sure I wanted to face that prospect, either.”

He laughed. “Did you honestly think that was possible?”

She shrugged. “How was I to know?”

“If you got the job, you were going to have to face me eventually.”

“I know. If or when you found out I’d applied, I figured you could contact me privately if you had a problem. You didn’t. So I just went with the assumption that if I got the job, it was because I’d earned it. As to working with you, well…” She smiled. “I figured I’d cross that bridge when I got to it.”

“You’re more than qualified to be on our research team,” he told her. “NSWC is lucky to have you and they know it.”

She flushed, flattered despite that she hadn’t sorted all this out yet. “Thank you. You didn’t have to say that.”

He shrugged. “I was just being honest. And you’re right, you didn’t need my recommendation. You would have gotten it anyway.”

What was he saying? Did that mean she’d definitely gotten the job? But he was already talking before she could ask.

“When you got Ryan’s invitation, did you know I’d be here?”

“I knew. Did you?”

He nodded. “It was part of the reason I took the time off to come.”

The admission sent a little thrill of joy through her. “I was hoping I’d hear one way or the other about the job before leaving Kansas. Then, if I got it, we could resolve any possible issues we might have away from the workplace. I got the call for the final interview, but that’s not for another six weeks.”

“But you came to the wedding anyway.”

She nodded. “Partly for Ryan. And in part because, job or no job, I couldn’t pass up the chance to see you again. Depending on if you came with someone, or who knows what else, I didn’t know if I’d even talk to you…but I wanted the chance to, if the opportunity presented itself.” She gave him a shy smile. “Of course,
none of my imagined scenarios included the present situation.”

Now Cooper’s smile curved into a deeper grin, making his eyes gleam. And he stepped closer to her again. “But here we are. Again. And things are still as complicated as ever.”

“Maybe that’s our karma, too.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

That look in his eyes made her want to strip naked on the spot and the hell with being responsible. “No. If I’m being completely honest, this is better than anything I dared hope for.”

He reached for her then, and damn if she wasn’t strong enough to stop him from taking her into his arms. “You hoped for this?”

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious to know what might have been. Or how things would be if…you know, I ever had another chance. I just never thought I’d get to act on it.”

His blue eyes darkened, and she saw his jaw work despite the wicked grin he gave her. “Why stop now that we’re just getting to the good part?”

“Because as much as I want to find out what’s going on between us, I also want to take that step in my career. I waited a long time for this chance, too. I finally found the courage to go after what I want, and I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize that.”

He ran his hands down her arms, making her shiver with need, damp clothes long forgotten now as her body rapidly heated up. “Once we get out of here—”

She’d been steadily trying not to think about that little problem they’d yet to deal with. Much easier, in this case, to focus on other things. Like him. “You mean
if
we get out of here.” She tried for a dry laugh, but it sounded a bit shaky.

“When,” he reiterated, and with such confidence, she let herself believe him, at least for now. “If we decide to see where this goes—what’s the worse that could happen?”

She was surprised at the intensity of the question, but it was that very intensity that drew her to him. “I—I get the job. We’re together. People start to talk.”

“So? You’re good at what you do. You earned the job. Let your work speak for you.”

“Okay,” she said, knowing they both understood that it really wasn’t as simple as that. “For argument’s sake, let’s say everyone is thrilled we’re a couple. What if we leap into the flame only to burn out a week later, a month. A year. Then what?”

“Then we worry about it then.”

She huffed out a sigh. “Cooper.”

“Marty,” he mimicked, making a face.

She smacked his arm for making her laugh. “I’m serious. We’ve both worked hard to make strides
professionally. You’ve gone far, I feel like I’m finally starting. I don’t think either of us wants to chance ruining that for—”

“Exactly,” he cut her off. “For what?” His hold on her tightened. “For doing something that’s human? Something that, for once in my life, isn’t about my job? For wanting something more than reaching another professional milestone? Especially when I don’t even know if the milestone I’ve reached is one I want?”

That stopped her. “What? What do you mean?” Certain she hadn’t heard him correctly, she shook her head and said, “Of course you want the job. You’re the perfect guy for it. You have all the background in the world—no one understands the cutting-edge technology we’re embarking on better than you. Hell, you developed most of it. You’re passionate about the importance of the research you’re doing and I know you’ll finally bring real attention to severe weather study, not to mention scads of donor money. You’re like the hero of every severe weather researcher I know. Not that that’s a huge fraternity, but—” She broke off, aware she was rambling, and also aware that his expression had grown even more shuttered. She squeezed his arm. “Cooper?” When he still didn’t look at her, she framed his face with her hands. “You’re serious, aren’t you? You don’t want the job? I don’t understand.”

“Trust me, I know we need the funding. And I real
ize I’m in the best position to get that for us. I know what this means in terms of exposure for our field.” He stopped, sighed, but didn’t continue.

Now it was her turn to cup his cheek as realization sunk in. “But it also means you step out of the lab, doesn’t it?” she asked softly, already knowing the answer. “Away from the R & D end of things. Away from the hands-on part that you really love.” She could kick herself for her gushing tribute to all he could do for the job…and for so completely missing that maybe for once it should be about what he could do for himself. “I’m so sorry,” she said softly.

“Don’t be. I know I’m fortunate just to be working in the field, making a career of it. I understand I’ve got the best platform and reputation to get the notice we need. And if I don’t take this on, it might severely damage our chances of continuing the work that the rest of the team is doing. I feel like I really don’t have a choice.”

She saw the resignation in his eyes and hated it. She ran her hand along his cheek. “Why is it we can’t have everything we want in life?”

“Doesn’t seem fair, does it?” he murmured, sliding his palms up to cap her shoulders.

“No,” she said, her breath hitching as he pulled her closer. “No, it doesn’t.”

“I want you,” he told her, his mouth dropping closer to hers.

Her heart tripped. “A shame it’s so complicated.”
Too complicated.
More than she’d ever realized.

“Yeah,” he said, his gaze drifting to her mouth, then ever so slowly back to her eyes. “A damn shame.”

“Otherwise, we could do anything we wanted,” she managed to say, barely, her throat having gone completely dry.

“Anything.” His jaw was taut, the single word rough.

Images pounded through her brain, her body aching to act on them. She curled her fingers inward to keep from yanking him to her. “It’s a good thing we stopped before we lost control.”

“Yeah.” He wove his fingers beneath the hair at the nape of her neck, was already tilting her head back. “Losing control would be very bad.”

“Very,” she echoed. “Bad.” So dry, so parched. Parched for him. She wet her lips.

“Aw, hell,” he swore, right before he crushed his mouth to hers.