Relief washed through me so fast it startled me.
“Hey,” he said, voice low, steady.
“Hey,” I replied.
He took one look at me and frowned.“You should be sitting.”
“I already am,” I laughed.
“Good.”
He set the bag on the counter and pulled out sandwiches, chips, and a coffee.“You’re eating.”
I stared at the food like it might be a trick.“I don’t need—” I wasn’t used to anyone taking care of me.I mean, sure, Marcy forced-fed me water and homemade granola bars, but only because I signed her paychecks.
“Don’t care what you think you don’t need,” he said.“You need fuel.”
I opened my mouth to argue.
Then closed it.“Thank you,” I said quietly.I knew there wasn’t any sense in arguing with him.
He nodded and leaned against the counter while I ate.Didn’t rush me.Didn’t comment.Just stayed there.
Marcy, Jessa, and Owen worked as a team to hand over ordered houses and fill boxes with goodies from the bakery case.I felt useless sitting there just eating, but I knew Saint wasn’t going to let me up until I finished my food.
“Busy?”he asked.
“Insanely.”And here I was eating.Gah.
He watched Marcy and Jessa move around filling orders while Owen rang up a customer.“You’ve built something good here.”
The sincerity in his voice made my throat tighten.
“I feel like we’re running around with our heads cut off,” I admitted.“I feel like I’m constantly one step away from everything falling apart.”
His jaw flexed.“It’s not.”
I shrugged.“Feels that way.”
He didn’t argue.He just nodded, like he understood that sometimes reassurance wasn’t enough.
When I finished eating, my hands felt steadier.My head clearer.
“Okay if I come by later?”he said casually.“After you close.”
“For what?”
“Dinner.Again.”
I hesitated.“Saint—”
“Just dinner,” he said.“I know you’re exhausted, doll.I want to make sure you’re taking care of yourself.”
I searched his face for pressure and found none.
“Okay,” I said.
His mouth curved slightly.“Good.”
