“You’re safe,cher.”
“I know.”
“You don’t sound as if you do.”
All right, honesty.“I’m trying.”
He was quiet for a moment.Then, “Want me to talk you down?”
She swallowed.“What would you say?”
“That you survived.You’re a hell of a lot tougher than you think.You didn’t freeze, not even for a second.”His voice settled under her skin.“That you’re allowed to be scared after somethin’ like that.”
Her eyes stung.“Kayne?”
“Yeah?”
“Can you ...move closer?”
She heard his breath hitch.Barely.But she heard it.
He shifted, floorboards creaking, blanket rustling, until the back of his hand brushed the blanket near her arm.Just enough contact to ground her.Not enough to set off fireworks.
Her body set them off anyway.
“You okay?”he asked softly.
“Better,” she whispered.
A long beat stretched out in the dark.Then with a rough, gravelly voice, he confessed, “Gave me a heart attack, you know.That car comin’ at you.”
Her chest squeezed in a whole new, inconvenient way.“You’re not responsible for me,” she murmured.“I can handle myself.”
“I know you can.”A pause.“Doesn’t stop me from wantin’ to protect you.”
There it was again, that low, devastating punch of sincerity she wasn’t prepared for, wrapped in a sexy Cajun drawl that was more pronounced than usual.
She reached down, letting her fingers hang over the edge of the mattress.
Kayne hesitated a second—just long enough to kill her—before his hand lifted and his fingertips brushed hers in a feather-light pass.Not holding.Just touching.
It was accidental intimacy that wasn’t remotely accidental.Sparks zipped up her arm as if someone had plugged her into a wall socket.
“Go to sleep,cher,” he murmured.
“Trying.”
“Try harder.”
She huffed a tiny laugh.“Bossy.”
“Only with you.”
Heat settled deep in her stomach, so suddenly she had to swallow hard.“Goodnight, Kayne.”
“Night, Chloe.”
Their hands stayed close, never fully entwined, but brushing every few breaths.Tiny jolts of comfort.Or longing.Or trouble.Probably all three.
