Silent Fall

wished he could take away her sadness, carry the burden of her past that she seemed to shoulder like a weary soldier, but he didn’t know where the pain came from, and she didn’t want to tell him.
    Never mind that he’d shared his life story; she was still keeping hers close to the vest. When this was all over, he would find out what she was hiding. He was going to make her talk to him, and maybe there would be some way he could help her. He would definitely owe her.
    She suddenly turned her head and caught him staring. A flash of awareness sparked in her eyes, and he felt an immediate response -- that damn connection between them that she constantly spoke of. It was definitely there. He felt as if she’d cast a spell over him -- not that he believed in spells, but she had some sort of crazy power over him. When he wasn’t thinking about saving his ass, he couldn’t stop thinking about her and how much he wanted to explore her mouth, kiss the curve of her neck, cup her breasts with his hands, and watch her eyes darken with pleasure -- the way they were darkening now. He was either transparent as hell, or she really could read his mind. It was probably a little of both.
    "You should be watching the road," she said.
    "You’re a lot more interesting than the road."
    "So are you."
    Damn . Why did she have to admit that? He had to fight to drag his gaze away from hers and concentrate on driving. "You should learn how to lie," he said a moment later, inwardly battling a reckless urge to pull onto the shoulder and see just what else she’d admit to wanting.
    "I know how to lie," she replied. "In fact, I can be very good at it."
    "How is that possible? You show every damn emotion the second you feel it."
    "That’s because I’m not trying to hide from you, but I can if you want."
    He frowned at her challenging and honest words and knew that was the last thing he wanted. His recent relationships had been filled with games and innuendos and miscommunication, no one saying what they meant, no one acting on their true feelings, no one really trying to make the other person happy. He’d been living a fairly selfish life in regards to women, he thought, experiencing a moment of self-clarity. He’d rationalized by telling himself that if everyone had a good time, what was the harm? But his current situation reminded him that life was short and filled with unexpected events, and he shouldn’t be wasting so much time being with people he didn’t care about. Not that he cared about Catherine. They’d spent only a few days together, but the odd thing was, he felt as if he knew her better than people he’d spent months with.
    "I used to hide what I was feeling," Catherine continued. "Growing up the way I did, I learned that showing tears or letting people know I cared made me weak, vulnerable. I had to fit in; I didn’t have a choice. It was sink or swim. I had to be tough. And I had to lie -- sometimes to save my life, which I was more than willing to do. But I’m an adult now, and I don’t have to pretend anymore. And I guess I’ve gotten a little rusty at lying."
    "You had it rough as a kid."
    "Something we have in common."
    "I have a feeling your past was worse than mine, but you’re not going to tell me, are you?"
    "Not now, but I won’t say never. As soon as I challenge the universe by making such proclamations, fate usually steps in and shows me how wrong I am to think I can control my destiny," she added lightly.
    "I don’t believe in fate or destiny. We make our lives what they are. I hate it when people say they must have run out of gas for a reason, as if every little thing that happens in their life is part of some orchestrated plan. Maybe the reason they ran out of gas is because they forgot to fill up the tank."
    "I don’t think that every little moment in our lives is planned. We make choices that lead to actions and consequences. But I do believe in a higher power; call it God or fate or destiny or whatever. I feel it in my heart and in my head. I’m tuned in to the universe, and you’re not, because you’re still under the illusion that you’re going to control everything."
    "Obviously I’m not controlling this situation," he retorted.
    "Maybe that’s what you’re supposed to learn."
    "Oh, shit, don’t start talking like that. This is not about me learning some lesson."
    "It might be. Look,