Читать книгу The Medic's Homecoming - Lynne Marshall - Страница 2

Maybe saying it aloud—I have PTSD—would help make the condition go away.

If only it were that easy.

“You sure you want me to help with that fundraiser? A balloon may pop and I might freak out on you or something.”

From nowhere her cool hands caressed his cheeks. Jocelyn went up on her toes to buss his lips, catching him by surprise.

“Yes,” she said, gazing into his face. “I still want you to help me with the fundraiser.” There was a playful glint in her coffee-bean-colored eyes. “I also hope you’ll reconsider about re-enlisting.” With her hands still framing his face, her lashes fluttered downward then back up.

Their gazes met and held in an I-refuse-to-be-the-first-to-look-away contest. He could hear her breathe, and there was that sweet flower bloom and vanilla shampoo scent again …