As her feet padded past the bedroom door he'd left open, he cleared his throat. "Mol."
He heard her catch her breath.
"C'mere."
She was a shadow in the hallway, wouldn't see him if he beckoned her.
"C'mere," he repeated softly.
He'd gone to bed fully clothed. Everything except his shoes, ready just in case Toby made some kind of move in the night. He laid on top of the covers.
Molly slowly padded into his room.
He lifted the covers on the opposite side of the bed, holding back the spread so she could get in.
She hesitated at the edge.
"I'm not proposing anything indecent," he said softly. "You need sleep."
He got a glimpse of her sweatpants and T-shirt as she slid into the bed. He flipped the covers over her. He whistled for the darn dog. Moments later, toenails clicked on the floor.
"Lie down," he told the mutt. There was a scrabble of nails and then awhumphas Hound settled on the floor at Molly's side of the bed.
She was lying straight as a board, staring up at the ceiling, her arms at her sides. She wasn't going to fall asleep that way either, so he shifted closer, snugging one arm around her waist and nudging her at the same time.
She rolled so that her back was to his chest, his knees pressed in behind hers. The covers separated their bodies. Even so, he could feel her tension.
She let her head settle on his shoulder, and he tucked his chin close to her ear.
He wouldn't take advantage, no matter how much he reveled in the feel of her in his arms. She was vulnerable, afraid. She needed him, and he'd do his best to be what she needed, if it meant little sleep or no sleep. If it meant following her across the state, or across the country.
It took longer than he wanted, but finally her breathing evened out and she relaxed against him. His arm fell asleep where it was bent beneath her pillow.
He didn't dare move.
He let his eyes drift closed, too.
