Course of Action: Crossfire (7 page)

“Like I can tell,” he grunted, pushing back against the chair, his teeth clenched, eyes closed. He'd given up pretending to be a tough guy four weeks ago. All around him physical therapists and nurses were helping men like himself. Some were walking. Some were exercising. Others were grunting and groaning just like him. The bright morning sunlight filtered through the large windows into the gymnasium-like area. There was all kinds of weight-lifting equipment and an Olympic-sized pool where he tried to swim and move that wounded leg of his.

He felt his leg burning as though a raging fire was built within it as Cait gently eased his knee a little more.

“Son of a bitch!” he exploded, rearing back, the sizzling pain like a knife being jammed violently up into his thigh. Dan wore loose gray gym pants and a dark green Army T-shirt. It was darkened by sweat in patches down the center and beneath his armpits. His back stuck to the plastic of the chair.

“Okay,” Cait soothed, easing his limb and allowing it to rest. She placed his foot on the floor. She smiled up at him. “Good progress, Taylor. Not bad.” She remained where she was, watching the pain swirl in his gray eyes, his face glistening with sweat. He was breathing hard, a sign of how much he was enduring to get that knee to work once more. Cait wanted to hold him but resisted, as always. To coddle Dan at this stage would set him back in his progress.

“Damn,” he hissed, sitting up, wiping his brow with the back of his forearm. “This is hurting more and more.”

“Yes, as we ask the muscles in your thigh to start rebuilding muscle, the slow pumping action that I'm doing with your leg is actually sending more blood into the area. More blood means more oxygen and the muscles start rebuilding. Repetition does it.”

He lifted his upper lip. “I know, I know...don't tell me the rest. I can quote you verbatim. More blood flow into the muscles helps rebuild the muscle.”

She picked up a bottle of water nearby, handing it to him. Their fingers met and Cait secretly reveled in his contact. As Dan drank deeply, she began to gently move her fingers just above his knee, massaging those tight, screaming muscles, trying to get them to relax. Her touch was light, not heavy. There was always pleasure in touching Dan, and Cait was glad her job gave her leeway in doing just that.

“God, that feels so good,” he grunted, capping the emptied water bottle, tipping his head back against the chair.

She smiled a little as her hands drifted beneath his knee, engaging those taut ligaments. “Every day, an inch of progress,” she praised.

“It's hell,” Dan muttered darkly. His whole body was arching and enjoying her soft touch, making the pain ease considerably. “I didn't feel this much pain after I got shot. Seems unfair that I have to go through it
twice
and the second time around is a hundred times worse than the first time.”

“You can't come over and see my home until we can bend this knee a little more,” she teased, resting her hand on his large calf. Cait knew the amount of pain Dan was in. She wouldn't pamper him or give him an excuse to feel sorry for himself. So many men, when the pain was constant, day in and day out, wanted to give up. He hadn't. It seemed like the more his knee refused to work for him, the more concentrated and stubborn he became about forcing it to work, or else. She was proud of his work ethic. Dan had taken her words to heart about just looking at the day in front of him. Nothing more, nothing less and it was helping him make good progress whether he believed her or not.

“Tell you what,” she said lightly, giving him a warm look. She moved her hand across his resting knee. “You're this close,” and she held up her thumb and index finger about one inch apart, “to getting your knee bent enough so you can to get into my Prius. What I want you to do when I begin to flex your knee again is visualize being at my place. You know what the kitchen and living room look like. See yourself at my bamboo table eating a stir-fry dinner I'll prepare for us. Are you game?”

Cait knew the value of placing something her patient wanted just out of their reach to give them the impetus to go for it because it was important to them. They'd just talked last night over a game of Monopoly in his ward about her cooking skills. She was a darned good cook and took pride in it. Dan admitted he had dreamed about eating chicken and vegetables straight from her wok. He was a big vegetable eater, so she'd use that carrot and dangle it before him. Cait knew how badly he wanted to see her small home. She wanted him out of this hospital complex and anywhere else that would help him relax. He was beginning to hate being in the hospital and she didn't blame him.

“You're serious, right? If I can get that knee bent a little more, you'll take me to your house for dinner tonight?”

Her lips lifted and she drowned in the flaring desire she saw in Dan's eyes. She could feel the shock rolling through him at her offer, but it was a good kind of shock. “I'm a woman of my word, Taylor.” She luxuriated in his gaze, feeling his need for her. Cait had slowly begun to realize that Dan liked her on more than just a casual friendship level. Oh, it was subtle, but it was there. All the time.

He grinned wickedly and set the plastic bottle on the floor. “Okay, let's go for it.”

Nodding she positioned herself once more, lifting his leg and slowly asking his knee to bend. “Just remember the wok-seared chicken and veggies I'll make for us,” she murmured, watching him begin to tense as she brought the knee to the angle where it was still frozen. “Close your eyes. See your knee relaxing. See those muscles in your thigh stretching.” Because visual pictures did, indeed, help the physical body respond. She saw him grip the edges of the chair he sat on, his mouth tightening. “Smell the scents coming from the kitchen,” she said, moving the knee slowly, holding the pressure so that his muscles would begin to relax and loosen. “The scent of ginger and nutmeg in the air...”

Cait felt his whole body stiffen with pain as she pushed gently, asking that knee to flex a bit more. He was grunting with pain, explosions of air tearing out of his twisted mouth, his powerful back arched against the chair. Beads of sweat gathered in his deeply furrowed brow, his eyes scrunched shut, lips lifting away from clenched teeth. He was a black ops soldier. He knew the value of controlling his body, demanding more of it when necessary. And Cait could feel him struggling to force his wounded body to do exactly that. As she applied gentle, constant pressure to that knee, she felt him force himself to relax. His knee moved another inch.

“Great,” she praised. “Keep it up! Keep allowing that leg to relax. Right now the pain is stopping you from reaching that final inch I need your knee to bend, Dan. Give it to me?”

It took five more minutes, but Dan did it. Cait praised him in a husky voice, holding his knee in that needed and necessary position. He was sweating heavily, breathing hard as if running a marathon, when in reality, he was trying to control the pain enough to allow his body to relax as best he could. Cait knew the pain these vets went through, and she felt pride for his monumental efforts. “Good job!” she called, smiling up into his barely open eyes. His face glistened with sweat, his gray eyes slits of agony. “You did it, Dan. You did it!”

Chest heaving with exertion, he groaned as she gently eased his knee outward, relieving the pressure. Dan was barely aware of anything for the next few minutes, his right leg feeling as if it was being scalded by a stream of hot water continuously poured into it. His muscles were learning to stretch all over again. Releasing his fists from around the edges of the metal chair, sweat dripped into his eyes, blurring his vision. With a couple of swipes of his hands, he focused back on Cait.

She was crouched at his feet, the biggest, proudest smile on that luscious mouth of hers. He'd give anything to kiss her. To tell her in some damn way, that he was interested in her as a woman.

“Nice work,” Cait praised, placing her hand on his good knee, squeezing it gently.

“Damn, my leg is killing me,” he muttered while trying to soothe it by rubbing the scarred, puckered flesh up and down its length.

“Here...let me.” And Cait rose. She went to the rear of the room and brought back a huge white towel. “This should help,” she said, easing his leg into an L shape and gently laying the wet, warm towel across it.

Groaning, Dan collapsed against the chair, eyes closed, head back, feeling the instant relief of heat on the screamingly taut muscles in that thigh. “God,” he rasped, “you can do that any time you want.”

“A warm, moist towel will do it every time. You need to remember that when you're not here anymore, Dan. It's always going to stiffen up on you, and a quick way to relax it is either a hot shower, a bath or a towel like this across the area.”

The agonizing scalding sensation eased and the agony dissolved within five minutes. Dan opened his eyes and sat up. Cait stood there, hands on hips, watching him critically. Her green eyes held an emotion he couldn't translate. Desire? For him? Dan had seen her work with a number of guys from his ward, but she never looked at them like she was looking at him right now. Dammit, he had to find out if there was anything between them. Or if it was his “head over heels in love with her” imagination wishing it was so.

 

Chapter 6

D
an was the last patient of Cait's day. The gym was empty. He knew that she was staying late to work him into her schedule so she could continue to get that knee of his to bend. Last week, she'd been true to her word—she'd driven him to her house and made him dinner.

He hadn't gotten up the courage to ask her how she felt toward him. In the end, Dan felt like the world's biggest coward. He could face a Taliban firefight, but he couldn't face her. He was afraid of what Cait's answer might be and it stopped him cold. He'd had all week to feel his way through his fear. He'd never let it stop him before and he'd finally, grimly, made the decision he was going to do something to show her exactly how he felt about her. It was time.

As Cait helped him stand, placing his left arm around her shoulders, he hobbled badly, leaning heavily on her to get to the torture chair, as he called it. Once there, he released her and slowly sank down into it. There was a thick blue plastic pad all around the chair. He'd fallen out of it once already. Others did, too, when stubborn joints were asked to flex more than they wanted to. Maybe the damned chair should have a seat belt on it, Dan thought with wry humor.

He watched as Cait came around to his right thigh. This was a favorite part for him, her hands on that angry-looking scar across his thigh. It was red and purple, the leather-like skin stretched and shiny. A thing of beauty it wasn't, but he relaxed, allowing his arms to hang at his sides. She crouched down, her small, cool hands lightly positioned at the top of his thigh, above the surgery scar. He wore loose, almost knee-length swim trunks and just her touching him like she was doing right now aroused him.

“Mmm, this is not feeling as tight,” she murmured, pleased as she gently slid her hands on either side of the scar. “Does it feel a little more relaxed to you, Dan?”

“Hmm?”

Her hands halted on his thigh and she gave him a flat look. “Don't drift off.”

“How can I help it?” he teased. “You touch me and I think I'm in heaven, Cait.”

“Well,” she grumbled good-naturedly, “in a minute you're going to feel like you're in hell.”

He managed a crooked grin, holding her shining green gaze. Today, her hair was in a long ponytail down between her shoulder blades. Those blue scrubs she was required to wear hid her assets from his eyes, unfortunately. “I always feel better when you're touching me, sweetheart.” He'd decided to keep calling her that when it felt right, get her used to his personal attention.

Cait colored, feeling heat rush to her cheeks as she continued to assess the muscles of his thigh around the wound site. “You never called me that before you got wounded,” she challenged, holding his amused gaze.

“I told you—I've changed, Cait.”

Mouth quirking, she frowned and kept focused on feeling those muscles. It wasn't lost on her that he was aroused beneath the dark green swim trunks he wore. And it happened every time she worked with him. Cait had worked on many soldiers over the years, but never had this happened as consistently as it did between her and Dan. Sometimes, when he didn't seem to realize she was watching, Cait would catch a wistful look in his gray eyes. And she'd sense a yearning, so deep and so secret she was never able to penetrate or interpret it.

Rising to her feet, she met his eyes, which danced with humor. Dan always teased her. She used to think it was just that, but now she wasn't so sure. How to ask him? Cait felt awkward about approaching him directly about what she felt burning between them. Could there really be something there? Dan kept saying he'd changed. What did that
really
mean? Frustration thrummed through her, and she got down to the business of getting that knee of his to give a little more. She'd like to have him over for dinner again. That one night had helped him so much. And it had made her happy, too. Cait wanted him with her again, alone in a personal, relaxed atmosphere.

“Well, you're one of the strongest men I know, Dan Taylor. And I'm not just saying that because I'm about to push you a little harder.”

And push him, she did. Dan groaned deeply. For thirty minutes, Cait ruthlessly forced that knee of his to bend. The pain was always there. That scalding sensation felt as if his thigh had ruptured. But the knee moved better and even he could see the progress he'd made. Cait went to retrieve a warm, wet towel for his thigh afterward.

Glancing around as he wiped his sweaty face, Dan saw they were alone. The pool was blue and glassy smooth. It was quiet. He watched her, appreciating the graceful sway of her hips.

“Here,” she murmured, laying it across his thigh, “this should help in a hurry.”

He inhaled her scent along with the spicy cinnamon shampoo he was sure she'd used. As she crouched, her hands gently draping the towel around his thigh, he felt the pain leave, replaced with a fierce need of her in every way. When was he going to get up the guts to talk to her about it? It had to be now, no matter how scared he felt inside. She sat down, legs crossed, her hand moving slowly, lightly across the damp, hot towel. This was new to Dan. He looked down into Cait's face and saw her chewing on her lower lip. She only did that when something was really bothering her. Her hand felt so damned good on him, even if there was thick towel between it and him.

“When you touch me, Cait, the pain goes away,” he told her. Dan saw the flash of surprise in her eyes as she tilted her head up to catch his gaze. “Don't you think that's pretty awesome?”

Her hand stilled for a moment. “It is,” she admitted.

“Do other guys tell you that?”

“No, not hardly. After they've worked with me for a while, they know what's coming and it's not pleasant. You've seen that.”

“The pain goes away,” he told her in a low voice. Dan reached out, nestling some loose strands of her red hair behind her ear. He was taking such a risk. It was an intimate gesture. There was some shock on her face, and yet, as his fingers grazed her small ear, her eyes turned molten for a split second. No, he wasn't imagining this. He'd seen she liked his touch. Her lips parted briefly as he caressed her hair, smoothing it against her scalp. Well, if she didn't get it now, she never would. His heart was pounding as Cait studied him. Just one touch. There was so much in that touch. Would Cait get it? Would she accept his small act of intimacy with her? Dan knew it was coming out of nowhere.

“Okay,” she whispered in a strained voice, “what's going on, Dan?” Cait stilled, her ear tingling wildly in the wake of Dan's unexpected touch. She licked her lower lip, trying to read his mind, trying to read the intent behind that gesture. She forced herself to continue her light, stroking touch across the hot towel.

“Did you like that, Cait?” His heart was pounding in his ears. He could barely hear anything while he waited for her answer. Throat tight, Dan waited, feeling like a man waiting for the executioner's ax to slice down on his neck.

“I'd be a liar if I said I didn't.”

It was his turn to look surprised. His heart bounced hard. Dan had to be honest with her. Cait deserved nothing less. “What if...what if I told you that when I first met you, I instantly fell in love with you?”

Cait's lips parted, shock in her eyes and then, something else...something Dan didn't dare believe.

“What if I told you that when we were introduced, I thought you were the most handsome man I'd ever met, Dan? That I felt my heart opening to you in such a way that it scared the hell out of me?”

Dan frowned. “I scared you?”

“In a good way,” Cait corrected. “You looked like a warrior, maybe a throwback to the time of knights and ladies.”

Dan wanted to so badly lean over, cup Cait's chin, lean down and kiss her senseless. To taste those naturally pink lips just once. Just once. “I knew feeling like I did toward you, Cait, was wrong.” He swallowed, looking away for a moment, trying to find the right words. “I was eighteen. You were slightly younger. I was so full of myself. But I thought you were the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen.” He grimaced and added, “When I was on the football team in high school, I had my pick of any girl I wanted. The six of us, the Sidewinders, were heroes and champs to everyone in Rush City. Especially to the girls at the high school.”

She smiled, moving her hand a little more firmly against his thigh. Excitement thrummed through her as she tried to maintain a neutral expression, but her heart was doing backflips over what he'd just said. She loved Dan. It was that simple and that complicated. Her throat ached with wanting to say those words:
I love you. I've always loved you. I never stopped loving you.
“I imagine you were a very, very popular boy,” she deadpanned.

“Let's put it this way—by the time I left and joined the Army, Cait, I knew my way around a woman. Which is why, when I met you, I felt like the floor had fallen out from beneath me. But you were seventeen. I couldn't do anything except appreciate you from a distance.”

“Well,” she drawled, “there was Ben. He was fierce about making sure I never looked at a soldier. Even then he was drilling into me to stay away from military types.”

“Yeah.” Dan sighed, looking up at the ceiling for a moment. “At the time, I was okay with that because you were so young, beautiful and mature for your age.”

“I was always the serious one in our family,” she admitted with a half smile. “Ben was the joker, like you.”

“Yeah, we played a lot of jokes on one another over the years, that's for sure.”

“When I turned eighteen, Ben made me promise to never date a soldier and I didn't. I began to date civilian guys from the university as I worked to get my degree in physical therapy.”

Dan saw the sadness in her eyes and heard it in her voice. “I don't think the quality of a man is predicated on whether he's a civilian or in the military.”

“I didn't, either, but I wasn't about to go back on my word to Ben.” Cait got to her knees and positioned herself so that her hands could gently knead his thick thigh muscles through the warm towel. “I found out real quick, like Ben had told me, that too many guys were after one thing—sex. I hated being used and caught on quick. After I graduated with my degree, I got a job here at Tripler. I dated an ortho doctor...”

“Tim, as I recall?”

“Yes.” She shot him a look. “You've got a good memory.”

“Well,” Dan said, “I remember coming off deployment to spend thirty days' leave here in Honolulu with you and Ben. You'd just broken up with Tim after being with him a year.”

She frowned. “And I remember when I broke down crying there on the beach about it, you were the one who came over and held me.” She couldn't help but look up at him, see his sadness for her.

“You were hurt, Cait. I wanted to help you any way I could.”

“You did. More than you could ever know, Dan.” Because she'd had a crush on him for so long.
Look but don't touch.
Dan was off-limits. Ben would not have forgiven her if she'd been honest and told Dan the truth.

“If memory serves, you had three serious relationships,” Dan said. “Ben and I thought for sure you'd marry one of the two docs.”

Shrugging, Cait moved her fingers down below the towel, slowly kneading the heavy hamstring muscles in his leg. “I guess I didn't love either of them. I tried, but it didn't work.”

“They were both good men, Cait. I know. Ben showed me one of your emails one time when we were at our FOB—he was all excited about Wes asking you to marry him.”

“I couldn't go through with it, Dan. I just couldn't. I know Ben was thrilled. My mother was doing a dance. She wants grandchildren.”

“Were you getting pressure to settle down?”

“Yes. My parents felt I should seriously be thinking about marrying and having lots of children. My mother, in particular, but my father is old-fashioned, too. You know the type—marry for security and all that stuff. I couldn't do that, Dan. I'm just not built that way. I never was, but it took me until my midtwenties to mature enough to realize it.”

“It seemed like every time Ben and I got home, you were going through some kind of emotional breakup with another man.”

Giving him a wry look, she said, “You're right. And you were always there for me, Dan. Ben would chew me out in private for dumping another guy. He didn't understand me or why I couldn't marry the guy. But you—” her voice grew low with rich feeling “—you'd catch me looking sad. Or maybe when the three of us were surfing together, you'd sense I wasn't happy.”

“I've always been sensitive to your moods, Cait. But you're easy to read, sweetheart.” He reached out, barely grazing her flushed cheek.

Her breath caught. Her lower body tightened. The pad of his thumb was calloused, her skin skittering with fire, the pleasure like sweet honey drizzling into her clenched lower body. She lifted her lashes, holding his stormy gaze, noticing the way his mouth pursed as he stared intently down at her.

“W-why are you calling me sweetheart now, Dan? You've never done that before.” Her voice sounded wobbly even to her. Her heart was pounding and fear pressed down on her chest—she was afraid of what he might say. Searching his open expression, she didn't feel him putting on his game face, which is what he did most of the time when it came to deeply personal questions. Dan would always avoid answering them by joking and teasing with her, instead. This time the seriousness in his eyes seared her from her heart down to her aching center.

“I told you—I've changed, Cait. Maybe because I'm older. I've done a lot, seen a lot. I think I know what's really important in my life now.”

Her breath hitched and her eyes widened slightly at the growl in his tone. She watched as he slowly sat up, his hand slipping beneath her chin, angling her face upward. Dan was going to kiss her! Suddenly, her emotions went wild with a fierceness that made her lean forward to eagerly meet his descending mouth. He was really going to kiss her! How long had she waited for this moment, thinking it would never come? Her fingers stilled and came to rest on his thigh, being careful to put no weight upon it.