AJ sinks down, and fabric rustles under us. “Not until you tell me to.”
How can he be so steady when I’m falling apart? I can hear the anguish in his voice. How very much he wants me to be his Grace. But I’m not. I’m not sure I’ll ever be. Yet, he’s still here.
After a few breaths, I risk opening my eyes, and when the vertigo doesn’t immediately overwhelm me, I start to relax.
The large bed is already turned down. The warm beige walls and plush carpet tickle some long-ago memory. But it’s not of this room. It’s the room I was fighting to get out of in my nightmare.
“I’m…okay now,” I manage. But am I? The idea of sleeping in this big bed all alone terrifies me. Plus…I can barely stand. What if they—the nameless, faceless shadows haunting my nightmares—come for me? I won’t be able to get away.
AJ eases me off his lap and I sink against a mountain of pillows. “Wait here. I’ll get the walker, then your pajamas.”
I don’t bother to tell him I can’t do anything but wait.
Belle puts her front paws on the bed and noses my left hand. “I know, baby girl. It doesn’t always do what I want these days.” She whines once, then settles in a fluffy black dog bed in the corner of the room where she can see me.
AJ returns, setting the walker in front of the nightstand, and a bundle of dark peach fabric next to me. But then he backs away, his hands shoved into the pockets of his Wranglers. His gaze pings from me to the door to the bed and back again. “I…uh…I’ll be on the couch in my office. It’s just down the hall. If you need?—”
“I don’t want to be alone,” I blurt out. “And…” I fumble for the pajamas. “I can’t take off my bra. Or my socks.”
AJ’s cheeks turn bright red. “Are you sure?”
I nod, slowly.
My husband’s gentle hands peel the sweater from my shoulders. He’s careful not to look down as he loosens the buttons of the flannel shirt. More careful still as he draws the quilt up to my chest and moves behind me to release the catch of my bra.
His breath hitches, and for a moment, tension radiates off of him.
Shit.
He’s just seen my scars. I stare down at my useless left hand cradled in my lap, fighting back tears.
The bra loosens, and he picks up the pajama top. I don’t want him to see me cry—not again—so I squeeze my eyes shut until I find a tiny shred of control.
AJ helps me with everything. Each button. Each tie. He lets me lean on him until I can brace myself against the sink to brush my teeth. At least I’m steady enough to use the bathroom by myself.
I open the door to find him waiting for me in a pair of loose pants and a dark gray t-shirt. He looks so different in some ways. He carries the same strength. The same corded arms. The same lean lines and firm chest. But all traces of the Ranger have faded into the background, leaving only the man in front of me. Vulnerable in a way I hadn’t thought possible.
AJ helps me under the covers without a word, then darts around to the other side. He flips off the light and stretches out on top of the duvet, keeping his distance. But I know he’s there. A steady presence in the dark.
I stare at the ceiling, heart racing. My body aches in places I still don’t understand—and don’t want to.
But I’m not alone.
The gaping hole where my life should be isn’t empty anymore. There’s a single emotion there, swirling so fast, I couldn’t get a handle on it at first. Not until I had AJ’s arms around me.
Loneliness.
Whatever happened to me over the past three years, I know one thing for certain—I was utterly and completely alone.
Blindly, I reach for AJ. His hand closes around mine, thumb brushing my knuckles in a rhythmic pattern.
That’s all it takes for me to feel…safe. To feel like maybe…this could be home.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
AJ
It takes me a second to place the soft, rhythmic sounds in the room. Belle snores at the foot of the bed. The heater kicks on with a low hum. But there’s something more.
