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She didn’t have a lot of experience, but she did know that she’d never had someone treat her as if she were not only desirable but also precious and valuable.
“No,” she said softly. “You didn’t hurt me.”
“And your wounds? I tried to be careful, but?—”
Taking one of his hands, she held it against her heart, marveling that a hand so large that could be so gentle with her could also knock a giant down with one blow. She’d seen him do it.
“We didn’t use protection, Jazz.”
It was standard procedure for all female OZ operatives to receive a birth control shot, but that was likely one detail of Option Zero health care Xavier might not know.
“I’m protected. Don’t worry.”
“Good. I wasn’t sure… I don’t… I mean, we’ve never really talked…”
It suddenly occurred to her that he was just as uncertain about this new step in their relationship as she was. Xavier exuded confidence in every other aspect, but when it came to romance, it was good to see that he could be just as awkward as the next person.
Hoping she wasn’t moving faster than he wanted, but wanting to reassure him, she said, “I like where we’re going.”
A confident gleam returned to his eyes as he said, “Good, because we’ve only gotten started.”
“Tell me about your mom,” Jazz said. “You don’t talk about her very much.”
After breakfast, Xavier had suggested a short walk. Even though he knew Jazz wasn’t up to doing much more than a half mile at the most, building up her stamina was paramount to her recovery.
They were walking at a leisurely pace, and it felt good to just be with each other, forgetting all the other stuff they’d soon have to face.
“My mom was the best. She worked so hard to give us a good life.”
“And your dad. He was killed when you were just a baby. Right?”
“Yeah, I don’t remember him. I was barely two when he died.”
“You don’t have any other family, then?”
Familiar anger surged through him. “Oh, I’ve got plenty of relatives—but I don’t consider them family. Grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins. A whole hoard of them.”
She stumbled slightly, but Xavier caught her before she could fall. “Really?” she gasped. “You’ve never mentioned them.”
“That’s because I don’t know them. I just know they exist.”
“What do you mean?”
Realizing she was breathing heavier than before, he slowed their pace. “My mom came from an upper-middle-class but very strict Italian family. She was the youngest daughter of a family of six. Their plans for her didn’t include getting herself hitched to a young mechanic with no pedigree or money.”
“How did they meet?”
“She was on her way home from shopping and had a flat. My dad stopped to change her tire. They hit it off and started dating. She took a chance and took him home for one of their big family dinners. It didn’t go well.”
“That’s awful. So they kicked her out of the family?”
“Literally. She walked out with the clothes she was wearing and never went back. She told me more than once that it was the best decision she’d ever made. She and my dad were married about six months later. I came along a couple years after that.”
“And then your dad died a couple years after that.”
“Yeah. My mom never stopped grieving.”
“And you lost her when you were in the Army?”