Lucidity by Raine Weaver Page B

table, careful not to touch her. She was actually shivering, seemed so fragile at this point. He was deathly afraid he’d take her in his arms and not want to let go. “I’m not saying I’m buying the New Age hooey. But the info about the asteroid must be top secret stuff, I’m sure. Why are you telling me, Carly?”
    She reached out for him instead.
    Her hand moved to slide along the stubble of his cheek with the gentlest touch he’d ever known. “You never asked, never seemed to care. But you had a right to know what you were fighting for and against. And I wasn’t sure whether you had someone… I mean, a family or a special person in your life you might want to be with if…well, if things didn’t work out.”
    The whole setup would be laughable if it wasn’t so sad. If not for this whole apocalyptic scenario, he would never have met her.
    And in his current role, he couldn’t tell her that he was staring at the only person he’d want to be with right now.
    “Can’t say there’s really anybody significant in my life. Got a brother in a similar line of business. Travis. Tough guy. I don’t worry about him. He can look after himself. My father and wife number four, a fine woman, live in a retirement home in Florida.” He thought of Benjamin Munroe, the tall ex-soldier who’d seemed like a god when Parker was a child. Until the past two years or so, when human frailty began nibbling away at his nobility. “His dementia is in its early stages. He spends his good days fishing and the bad nights reliving old firefights. I’d rather not hit him with this kind of reality.
    “And there’s my ex-wife, who wanted a nine-to-five husband—which she now has. I think it’s made her happy. I’ll let her think so for as long as she can.”
    It was, perhaps, the first time he’d been able to speak of his marriage without some small trace of bitterness. He wondered if his present company had something to do with that. “Oddly enough, your bizarre circumstances suited me perfectly. Restless nature. My mother, God rest her soul, claimed my father had gypsy blood. She always said I was just like him. Never could sit still for very long. But enough of all that.” He’d never been comfortable talking about himself. “I assume you have family?”
    “My mom never married. She was killed in a car accident four years ago. Otherwise, there was just the ex-fiancé who thought meeting him at the door with beer and whipped cream should be more important than my silly attempts to save the world. Go figure.” This time she smiled, that wide, sexy smile that sent his resolve winging south. “So, here we are, with all the gossip and no one to tell. Quite a pair, aren’t we?”
    “Not yet.”
    The words simply slipped out. He hadn’t meant to say them and was stunned to realize he absolutely meant them.
    In their short time together, he’d actually grown accustomed to waking up when she did, to seeing her safely to bed at night, even watching over her as she slept. She was everything bright and beautiful, and without the slightest effort inspired the most painful boners he’d ever experienced. That made it as legit as any other relationship he’d ever had.
    Now, if only they had enough time to work on it.
    “We’ll be fine. Just fine. You do your witchcraft thing, and I’ll keep the angry villagers at bay.” He grasped her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
    He’d been right. Touching her was a mistake.
    How could she play the vamp one minute and manage such a charmingly old-fashioned blush the next? All signs of sadness were gone now as her eyes stared into his with absolute confidence.
    He couldn’t seem to catch his breath. He knew she never wore perfume. It wasn’t a good idea to carry it in luggage that was packed quickly and handled roughly. But the scented lotion she favored was subtle and distinctive, like the lilacs that had colored his mom’s garden in spring, and nearly enough to intoxicate