Total pages in book: 179
Estimated words: 170878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 854(@200wpm)___ 684(@250wpm)___ 570(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 170878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 854(@200wpm)___ 684(@250wpm)___ 570(@300wpm)
But then something dripped on my bare toe.
Water. From him. He was soaking. And though I felt scalding-hot from touching him, I knew he needed to get out of the wet clothes, and he very much seemed to be in shock.
Why else would he have let me touch him?
“You need to get into a hot shower,” I tried again. I held my breath, imprinting the feeling of Beau’s rough beard on my memory, the angles of his jaw under my palm, the closeness of our bodies.
Then I stepped back.
For a split second, Beau leaned forward, as if he were toppling toward me. But then he caught himself. He still had that glazed-over expression in his eyes.
Concern wrapped around my lungs, stifling my breath.
“You go get your wet clothes off,” I instructed. “Then … shower. I’ll make you some tea. And toast.”
He was still standing there, staring at me. He looked lost. Seeing such a strong, stubborn, infuriating man like that made me want to cry.
But this was not my moment to fall apart. It was Beau’s.
“Beau, you’re dripping on the floor, potentially giving yourself a nasty cold, if not hypothermia,” I spoke sternly. “And I know you probably think your beard, muscles, and general disposition make you invincible, but I assure you, you can succumb to illness just like us mere mortals. And Clara doesn’t need to catch a cold.”
I was babbling to compensate for his scary energy, to help douse both of our panic. He needed someone to take control right then. That could be me. That would be me.
“Take your boots off here.” I motioned to the floor. “Clothes in the laundry room, I’ll take care of them.”
He opened his mouth, but I didn’t give him a chance to speak. “We’ll talk when you’re dry.” I pointed to the hall. I was very proud of myself for the way I was taking charge.
And I was proud of Beau for doing nothing but toeing off his boots and heeding my orders without so much as a scowl or muttered curse.
Things must’ve been really bad if he was letting me take control. I didn’t let my worry for Calliope creep in as I made the tea and toast, setting them on the coffee table. I had an order of operations: get Beau warm, dry, fed. Take care of him. That’s what I needed to focus on.
Beau emerged from the hallway, hair damp but no longer dripping. He was wearing sweats and a white tee. I’d never seen him in sweats. Living with the man all this time, yet I hadn’t seen him in anything beyond jeans or the slacks he wore in the kitchen. I’d never seen him … at ease. Comfortable. Unless he was with Clara, of course. Then he was relaxed. But even then, there was a tenseness to his shoulders, a sharpness in his jaw that showed he was waiting. Expecting something bad to happen. Walking on eggshells. As if tragedy was always just a heartbeat away.
I guessed that’s what happened after spending so long waiting for worse and worse news.
Not for the first time, I felt a pang of sympathy for him.
“Come.” I gestured at the sofa, pointing to the steaming cup and the toast.
Strangely, Beau obeyed me. His eyes were clearer, seeming to be less in shock than he had been when he first walked in the door.
I was standing awkwardly by the coffee table where I’d placed the items. I hadn’t thought ahead about what I was going to do once he obeyed my command. I hadn’t really thought he would obey my command. I shifted uncomfortably, steeling myself.
Steeling myself for him to snap back like an elastic band, stinging my skin.
But he didn’t. Snap back. Hurt me.
“No,” he barked. He walked across the living room to sit on the sofa. Out of instinct, I moved too. In the dance we’d choreographed for so long. As if we were opposing magnets that couldn’t be close to each other because of physics.
But we’d been close. Around fifteen minutes ago, I’d been cupping his cheek, and he had been holding on to my wrist for dear life. It was still throbbing faintly.
“Stay with me.” His raspy request made him sound wild. Rough. Then he peered up at me, and he looked nothing but soft and vulnerable. “Please.”
How could I say no to that? Technically, I could say no to him. That was the prime moment for me to get him back for all the pain he’d caused me. Show him the consequences of his actions. If you were a complete asshole to someone, you couldn’t expect them to be there for you in your time of need.
Leave him out in the cold, the cruel voice in the back of my mind told me.
But I looked into those icy eyes, recognizing how much it took for him to make that request, one I didn’t think he made even in the midst of Clara’s illness. He never asked anyone for anything.