My knees buckled with the torment, and I grabbed onto the granite countertop to support myself, biting down on my tongue to keep from crying out.
I was convinced nothing in the world hurt worse than stubbing your toe.
Delivering three children had been a piece of cake compared to this.
Okay, fine, epidurals and all, but?—
“Goddamn it, Daisy. Are you okay?” Cash bit out, suddenly in my face and taking hold of the outside of my arm.
“Stubbed…my…toe,” I gasped as I hobbled around, jumping on the other foot as the sharp pain spread out to a horrible throb.
“Of course, you did,” he grumbled under his breath. He almost sounded irritated by it.
“Yes, of course I did,” I hissed low. “What sane person would put an island right out in the middle of the room to trip over?”
Those hazel eyes narrowed, and he turned on his heel and rounded back into the kitchen.
It was fairly simple.
A long counter against the back wall with the sink in the middle and the dishwasher to the right of it. The refrigerator and double oven were on the left.
The large island ran perpendicular to it, and the stovetop was in the middle of that.
It was all done in brown wooden accents and raw stone, the same as the rest of the cabin.
“Okay, fine, your decorating skills are stellar. I’m just clumsy, remember?” I managed as I fumbled my way around into the kitchen, putting all the pressure on my heel as I went.
Cash didn’t humor me with a response.
He only moved for the refrigerator and pulled out a carton of creamer and set it next to the coffee maker.
A coffee cup was already there, along with a ceramic container of sugar.
Affection ballooned in my chest.
Foolish, I knew, but still…
I eased the rest of the way to where he left the items, and I poured coffee to halfway then dumped creamer in to fill the rest. Then I dosed it with three tablespoons of sugar. The spoon clanked against the ceramic as I stirred, and I bit at the inside of my cheek since I could feel the heat of his gaze burning into me.
The man stoic and hard as he lifted his cup and put it to his plush lips.
His thick throat bobbed as he swallowed.
The air crackled around him.
I swore, every move he made hit me like a landslide.
A churning tide that rose too high.
I struggled for breath then lifted the cup to my mouth, peeking over at him as I did.
“You were out late,” I chanced. Maybe that would open a line of communication since the man basically refused to speak. Except for when he’d opened up to me for a flash last night.
When he’d called me his Wallflower and grazed the pad of his thumb over my wrist.
Gentle the way he used to be.
But apparently that man had walked out with Cash last night since right then his entire body tightened in a fist.
