“You said the police chief called this morning. What did he want?”
To tell him someone wanted him dead. No, that wouldn’t go over too well. For now, he’d keep that little detail to himself.
“To let me know what happened during the accident. The brake line was damaged, and all the brake fluid had drained out.”
“So the brakes didn’t work? I didn’t just flake out and have an accident?”
“You weren’t responsible, no. I’m so sorry this happened. I shouldn’t have let you borrow the SUV.”
“You didn’t know about the brake line.”
“No, but I’ll be more cautious in the future. I can’t lose you now that you’re back in my life. And Jordan’s.”
“I don’t want to lose you either.”
It was the perfect time to kiss her again, so he did. Then, her words sunk in. She didn’t want to losehim.No mention of Jordan. Of course, he was sure Chelsea would be traumatized if something happened to their daughter, but he was equally as important.
The kiss continued, and this time he explored the soft skin of her upper thigh. Her leg shifted and her knee moved closer, allowing him to feel more of her. Up and down, so silky and smooth. One hand stayed on her leg while the other got busy, exploring under the large t-shirt he’d loaned her last night.
She wiggled closer as tiny moans floated from her lips, the lips he couldn’t stop kissing. They’d been addictive back when they’d first met, and time hadn’t lessened that need any. But his hands needed, too. To touch and skim up her back and sides. Chelsea rounded her back so he could tug the shirt off, but when he eased up, they bumped heads. A sharp cry shot from her mouth, and she fell on her back, her hands cupped around her nose.
“Oh, God. Are you all right?”
Her head bobbed slightly. “I forgot I broke my nose.”
“I am so sorry.” He kissed the top of her head, taking extra care not to go anywhere near the nose.
“Not your fault. I was in too big a hurry to get this shirt off.”
A dry laugh escaped. “That was my thought, too. Maybe we need to slow down a little. We’ll get there. For now, let me get you something for the pain.”
Leaning over, he picked up her water bottle and the over-the-counter pain meds. As she took them, he remembered her bag.
“Oh, I got your purse back from the car. Some stuff fell out when I tossed it on the seat. You’ve got some medicine in there, too. Is it something you should be taking?”
Her head whipped up as he placed the bag in her lap, but he couldn’t quite read her expression. Guilt? Fear? Anxiety?
“What’s the matter, pixie?” He pressed his lips to her hand.
With her other hand, she dug into the bag and pulled out the bottle. “I haven’t taken these since I’ve been here.”
He fingered the bottle. “Do you need them?”
“I don’t know.” She looked lost and confused.
“What are they for? Who gave them to you? There’s no doctor name on the bottle.”
“I told you I’d been sick, right?” Her eyes shone with moisture.
“You said you had a nervous breakdown. Was there something else that happened after?” Please, don’t let it be anything fatal. He needed her and so did their daughter.
“It wasn’t after. It was before.”
Now, it was his turn to look confused. Getting more comfortable on the bed, he coaxed her into his arms and snugly held her, her back to his front. “Tell me, pixie.”
“The pills are to help me.”
“Help you how?”
