“Thank you so much.” I relished the feel of his solid arms around me, his hard chest pressed against my cheek. Relaxing, I closed my eyes.

I could stay here and let him hold me for a week, though his arms would surely break off by then. He would probably try it anyway. I smiled at that thought.

“I hardly did anything,” he replied.

I forced a small laugh. “We were coming here today to help you, and you ended up helping me.”

He paused for a moment, then asked quietly, “Are you okay now?”

I nodded, that foggy feeling of old memories fading away along with the panic. “I’d forgotten all about the fireworks show. I’m usually either inside a shop or attraction, or over in the other park, California Adventure, where the fireworks are farther away. It brings back a lot of memories. Bad memories.”

“Is that what the shelling sounded like?”

Now that the booming had faded, I could think more objectively about what happened, talk about it like I always did—as if it had happened to someone else. “They sounded almost exactly like that. And I still hear them sometimes in my nightmares.” I blew out a breath. “Every day we’d hear about a neighbor or friend whose house had been completely destroyed. It felt like you were a sitting duck, waiting for your own doom.”

William kissed my hair again and I melted against him. And apparently, once I’d started talking, I couldn’t shut up.

“And snipers…there were snipers too. One day we were at a park and Zora, my sister’s best friend, was shot. Just out of the blue. Right in front of us. She was dead in minutes. I didn’t even know what had happened, and Mama wouldn’t tell me.”

His arms tightened around me, and I realized in that moment that I didn’t want him to let go, even though I was now past my initial panic. It felt too good. He wasn’t saying anything, which prompted me to continue.

“One night, the building next to where we lived was bombed. The ceiling in the bedroom where my sister and I slept caved in. We were buried under plaster. It wasn’t serious and we weren’t injured, but it was terrifying. I just remember feeling like I was going to die. There was no electricity and everything was pitch black. All I could hear was my sister breathing and whimpering. That was the final straw for my parents.”

“But you made it through,” he said, kissing my hair again. “You’re safe. You’re here now.”

I shook my head. “I can’t believe how that one thing—hearing those fireworks—can take me straight back to that night.”

“War is a terrible thing. Especially for children.”

I looked up at him. The noise outside had died down, but we didn’t move. Then I leaned forward and kissed him, long and deep. When we finally came up for air, his face was flushed. “You were my champion again, Wil. Thank you.”

He was silent but smiling, looking very satisfied with himself.

I returned the smile. “If I give you the quest to take me on It’s a Small World, would you?”

He frowned. “No dancing dolls. A man has his limits.”

“Want to go home then?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“Good. Your place or mine?”

“You’re trying to seduce me, aren’t you?”

I shrugged. “You’ll give in sooner or later. A man does have his limits, just as you said. I’m not going to change my stance.”

His arms tightened around me. “Neither am I.”

My chin came up. I was rising to the challenge. “So I guess the person who is the most stubborn will win out?”

“It seems that way.”

We left shortly after that and shared a quiet drive home. William pulled up to my curb, but I didn’t get out right away. A half-hour—and a heated make-out session—later, I got out of the car, admitting temporary defeat in my quest to get him upstairs.

Normally, he would have walked me to my door, but tonight, I noticed that he didn’t even offer.

Maybe I was getting closer than I thought.

 

 

Chapter 20

William

She really has no idea how close she is.

I’m trying to hide it, but every time it’s getting harder and harder to say no.

Because as I spend time with her, I realize that she’s more than a beautiful face and a lovely body. She’s strength and compassion. She’s a fierce advocate for those who can’t stand up for themselves.

And she cares. The last time I was at her house, I noticed a copy of Thinking In Pictures by Temple Grandin in her room. Grandin is a well-known spokesperson for people with autism, because she herself has Aspergers and has succeeded greatly in her chosen field. Without even saying anything to me, Jenna had obtained a copy of her book to read. I can only assume it’s so that she’ll have a better understanding of how my brain works.

But is it just a means to an end? Does she want her tiara back so badly that she’s willing to do anything to help me get it for her? And if so, where does that leave me once I succeed?

These are a few of the questions I’m considering while training with my European martial arts instructor the following Saturday. As usual, Adam has come to help out. He usually stays for an hour, but today he’s here longer because Jordan has decided to join us. And as much as I hate to admit it, Jordan is surprisingly good for a beginner. He has amazing balance from his years on a surfboard, and he is likely a natural athlete, whereas I am not. I’ve had to train and work hard to compensate.

We’re taking a water break when Jordan asks me how things are going with Jenna. I shoot him a sidelong glance as I wipe my face with a towel. I have no idea what Jordan’s motive is based on his tone of voice. Even though I’ve known him a long time, Jordan is harder for me to read than others.

I’m tempted to ignore him and tell him to go away because I’m still angry with him, but I remember the recent talk that I had with Adam.

“She’s helping with my enochlophobia.”

He frowns. “Ah,” he says as if he understands, though I know he doesn’t. “Hopefully her help involves multiple orgasms?”

I shake my head. “Nope, no orgasms.”

“You, uh, need any help in that department?”

I grimace at him. “Not from you.”

He starts laughing. “No, not—uh.” When he looks at my face and likely notes my disgust, he starts laughing even harder. “I wasn’t offering.”