Free Between Duty and Desire by Leanne Banks Page A

voice.
    “You’re so strong that I sometimes forget that you’re recovering, too.” She searched his face then put her arms around him.
    He sucked in her closeness like a man who’d been stuck in the desert for days and she was his first drink of water. Her embrace knocked him sideways. She was sober and not crying. This was the first time she’d flat-out hugged him, and his heart and body were overwhelmed. He pulled his hands out of his pockets to put them around her, then thought better of it and returned them. He shouldn’t encourage her.On the other hand, he knew a human touch was part of healing.
    Holding his breath, he slowly eased his hands out of his pockets and slid his arms around her.
    She made a little sound of satisfaction and squeezed him. “This is embarrassing to admit, but I think I must be starved for hugs.”
    “I’m sure you can find lots of volunteers to give you hugs,” he said dryly.
    “Yeah, but they’re not—” She broke off and pulled back slightly, looking into his eyes.
    “They’re not what?”
    She moved her shoulders and confusion shimmered in her eyes. “I guess I don’t want hugs from just anyone.”
    “Picky,” he said, trying to lighten the conversation, even though his chest felt strange as the dickens.
    She gave a lopsided smile. “Choosy. I’ve always thought it was a good thing to be choosy.”
    “Choosy’s just a nice word for picky,” he told her, thinking that if she decided he was going to be her hug supplier, he was in for pure torture. Heaven help him.
    She began to spontaneously hug him and touch him. Every once in a while he could see it coming and brace himself for his response to her, but she often ambushed him. She clearly had no idea of her effect on him.
    Brock was starting to think that the cure to his survivor guilt just might put him over the edge. She was so soft and feminine in his arms. He inhaled her scent as if it were a drug. After feeling dead for so long,she made his every cell feel alive. He spent an inordinate amount of energy trying to ignore just how alive she made him feel. He had a mission. There were steps to take, goals to be accomplished.
    “You need to make some friends,” he said, as they went for their run on the beach one cloudy morning.
    “I probably should, but I’m not sure how. It’s not really one of those things you can do through a classified ad.”
    “You could volunteer or join a club,” he suggested.
    Callie made a face and slowed to a walk. “I already told you I’m not much of a joiner.”
    He struggled with a ripple of frustration. “You may need to change that.”
    “I don’t know. I don’t fit in with groups real well. I didn’t fit in with the military wives. They thought I was weird.” She shrugged and looked at him. “And I guess I am a little weird, but isn’t everyone?”
    “Some are more weird than others,” he said dryly.
    “Oh, thanks!” She swatted him playfully. “Just the encouragement I needed to go out among the rest of humanity.”
    Brock laughed at her indignation then felt a few drops of rain on his shoulders. He looked up at the sky. “Oops. I think we’re gonna get caught.”
    “And I’m not running the rest of the way back to my cottage,” she said.
    Glancing around, he spotted a stand of trees. “C’mon, that looks like it will be better than nothing.”
    The rain suddenly burst through the clouds and hetugged her toward the trees. Water dampened her hair and face. She pulled at her T-shirt as it clung to her, then glanced at him. “This is your fault. If you hadn’t dragged me out here—”
    “You’d be inside moping,” he finished for her.
    She opened her mouth then closed it. “Maybe not. Maybe I would be working. I’ve been productive lately.”
    “Good for you.”
    “Probably thanks to you,” she said reluctantly.
    “You’re welcome,” he said with mock sweetness.
    She stuck out her tongue at him.
    Pleased to see some fire in her exchanges with