I took a menacing step toward her, my blood pressure spiking, and my heart slamming into my ribs so hard I was afraid it would cause permanent damage. “You’re my woman and it’s my job to protect you. So, back down and let me handle this.”
She squared her shoulder. “Your woman?” She scoffed. “Last time I checked this was the twenty-first century. So, unless you have a cave to stomp off to, you need to check yourself. I’m not your possession or property so you don’t need to defend me. In case you’ve forgotten, I’m a soldier too. I’ve been to war and seen shit that very few people could even comprehend. I know how to use any gun you put into my hands. And if you weren’t injured, I’d knock your fuckin’ ass to the ground right here just to prove my point.”
My hands twitched at my sides. I didn’t want to strike at her. No, not at all. I’d never hit a woman. But it was tempting to wrestle her to the kitchen floor and pin her to show her that no matter what her training was—she wasn’t big and bad enough to take me down.
Instead, I threw my hands into the air. “So, let me make sure I understand. You think that if I want to protect you and keep you safe that it must mean that I’m some kind of underdeveloped Neanderthal? It couldn’t possibly be because I’m falling in love with you and couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you?”
Gemma reared back like I’d slapped her across the face and put a hand to the counter to stabilize herself. My heart skipped and sputtered as my words echoed back to me.
The craziest thing was that even though they had been wrenched out in the heat of the moment, I didn’t regret them.
“You don’t know what you’re saying,” Gemma finally said, shaking her head. “You’re just caught up in the drama.”
“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.” I grabbed her hand and held it tight, forcing her attention back to my eyes. “Gemma, please pack some things. I need you to come back with me. I need to know you’re safe.”
She stared up at me, her face a mix of confusion and the slightly dampened urge to fight with me. “Aaron, I’m—” Whatever she started to say flitted away as I slipped my fingers along her jawline and cupped her face in my hand, careful not to scratch her with the edge of my cast.
“Don’t make me ask again, Gemma. Please just do this for me.”
After another long moment, she nodded. “Come on.”
She tugged on my hand and led me into the room she’d changed in. It was a small room, possibly intended to be used as a den or an office, since it didn’t have a closet, but Gemma had it set up like a bedroom with a queen-sized bed wedged against the wall, a nightstand with a metallic reading lamp, and a dresser on the other wall with barely a foot of space between the drawers and the end of the mattress.
“The upstairs is being remodeled,” she offered as an explanation as I perused the room. “I’m knocking down one of the walls to expand the master and add an en suite bathroom.”
“You’re knocking down the walls?” I shifted my gaze up to the ceiling, curious to see the construction site above.
“I started it, but I have a team coming in next week to finish the job. It should be another couple of weeks until it’s all done. And in the meantime, this is my bedroom.”
“Cozy,” I said, grinning at her.
“Cramped is more like it.” As though to prove her point, she stepped over a cardboard box of clothing that looked as though it had been rummaged through on multiple occasions, and yet never fully unpacked. I chuckled softly as I watched her gather some clothing from the overflow. She shot me a dark look. “I could stop packing at any moment, ya know.”
I chuckled and held up my hands. “I’m not judging. I’m just thinking I’ve seen barracks with a hundred enlisted and they might have been more organized than all this. I guess the Army doesn’t teach efficient packing techniques.”
She chucked a tank top at my head. Followed by a balled up pair of socks. “Pack away, Navy boy.”
I grabbed the items, still smiling, and looked for a bag to put them in. Within a few minutes, she’d tossed—hurled—a pile of clothes at me and fished an Army duffel from under the bed for me to pack them into. While I finished packing the item, sarcastically offering her hints and tips on proper packing techniques, she left to go to the next door bathroom and grab her toiletries.