“And what is it?”
“Something I never really felt before,” he admitted, fingers drifting down my jaw. “Which might be why I didn’t see it at first. No, don’t be sad for me,” he said, finger tracing under my lower lip that had turned downward. “Figure maybe it’s good I never felt it before. Because I know how rare this shit is. How hard you gotta hold onto it.” He did a one-shouldered shrug before saying the words that had my heart swelling. “Love you, Gracie.”
True to form, my eyes went watery.
“You sure?” I asked, using my shoulder to wipe a tear away. “Because you’re signing up for this. Constantly.”
“Life has been hard,” he said, reaching out to wipe the next tear himself. “I like the soft.”
Oh, my heart.
“I love you too.”
“Don’t deserve it. But I’ll bust my ass trying to.”
Perish - 5 days
“Stop fussing,” I demanded as Gracie tucked me in. Fully. Up to my neck. I looked like a mummy.
“Well, if I don’t tuck your arms, you’re going to keep reaching for things and messing with your stitches.”
To be fair, I already had to go up to Hailstorm once for pulling the stitches. She wasn’t overreacting. And it was sweet as fuck.
“I’m going to go—”
“Ahead and kick off your shoes and join me,” I suggested. “You’ve been running around all day.”
“You like being cared for.”
“I do. But you’ve done enough. Come here and relax.”
“Your laundry—”
“Can be done by Spike or Cain. It’s their job, not yours.”
“I don’t mind.”
“Don’t make me grab you and pull you onto this bed.”
She sighed at that and toed off her shoes, knowing that I would do it.
“Isn’t that better?” I asked when she curled in at my side.
“I like doing caretaking. It’s my love language.”
“Yeah?” I asked, sliding my good arm out of the blankets. “Thought you liked touch,” I said, running my hand up her leg, hip, across her stomach.
“Perish, you can’t…”
“Can’t what?” I asked, hand sliding up her belly to close over her breast. “Lie back and let you ride me?”
“Your… stitches,” she said, voice catching as my fingers teased her nipple.
“Won’t get pulled if you’re on top.”
“This one might,” she said, reaching over to my side where a bullet narrowly missed my ribs and lungs to lodge in some muscle.
She wasn’t wrong.
