The three words fell from his mouth like some kind of spell, igniting a pain in his chest that almost made him cry out. Good thing he was so practiced at concealment. He drew one long breath, and by the time he released it, he had absorbed the three searing words all the way down to his core. There. Done.
Faded wolf. Old routine.
“Okay,” Kelsey said, and in her voice… Was that a slight thawing after all?
He knew where everything was. He knew Maggie’s most-used items, the order to stack things so her favorite cookie sheet was closest to the edge of the counter and her favorite pot sat on top of the second-most-used pot. He knew which items to leave in the cabinets because Maggie wouldn’t use them, wouldn’t be tempted to bend down and get them.
Kelsey was hardly needed. Trevor had the muscles to hoist whatever, and he also knew the details of Maggie’s life. Details Kelsey had lost track of.
When they finished in the kitchen, the countertops were cluttered but not disorganized. A place for everything, everything in its place—but those places were in the open now and easily grasped by an upright five-foot-five recovering surgery patient.
Kelsey shut the last cabinet door and blinked away hot tears. Maggie had gone back to her room. A week ago she’d described her pain asall the time nowandpretty bad these days, yet words hadn’t prepared Kelsey for reality. No telling if she’d be a decent caretaker or a lousy one.
“Hey,” Trevor said behind her.
She jumped and turned, blinking fast. “Hm?”
“It’s good you came. Good for Maggie, I mean.”
“Right.”
“No, really, Kels. I can’t be here full-time, and she’s going to need full-time for a few weeks.”
“I thought I knew how bad it was, but this… She can’t be up for more than half an hour?”
“Not for the last few weeks. She’s got to lie flat most of the day.”
“Can I ask you something?”
No. Don’t be curious. She’d lost the safety of physical distance, which made emotional distance even more vital. Yet she was saying the words anyway, craving details of the last nine years of his life.
“Go ahead,” Trevor said.
He didn’t move on to the next task. He didn’t shrug her off. He stood still and waited for her to ask.
“Have you and Maggie been in touch all this time? Was there no…gap?”
His mouth curved, and his eyes warmed. “If three weeks count as a gap. That’s as long as she gave me. Then she told the rest of the wolves they weren’t getting brownies unless they brought me with them.”
“Three weeks…after us, you mean?”
His Adam’s apple dipped. It had done so countless times in the last couple hours yet still distracted her, still drew her eyes to the triangle of his bare chest.
“Yeah,” he said.
Nothing further than that. Trevor the easy talker had clammed up so hard she could almost see a vault slamming shut behind his eyes.
“And we all know how wolves love brownies,” she said. She hadn’t intended such gentleness in her voice. She shouldn’t be trying to draw him out.
Trevor gave a little laugh. “Bingo.”
“So what, they hauled you here under protest? Or were you glad to see her again?”
A wrinkle formed between his eyes, almost a wince though he covered fast. She couldn’t say why she was so sure it had been a sign of real pain. She couldn’t even be sure she’d seen it, yet her stomach clenched and her fingers yearned to brush his hair back, to touch and comfort him.
Had he second-guessed himself after the breakup? Had some part of him missed her back then?
“Both,” he said. “Ez dragged me out of the house. But I was glad he did. Maggie always knows what not to say, you know? And if there’s something that needs saying, she knows when too.”
