I nod, warmth blooming in my chest at the thought of them being here. “Yeah, I’m so excited for them to be here. Oh, shoot.” I pause, the realization hitting me. “I should’ve asked first. Is it okay if they stay with us?”
He turns his eyes to mine, and the affection in his gaze pulls me in completely. “Bree, of course they can stay here. You don’t need to ask.”
Relief washes over me, and I press my mouth to his. My lips linger until I feel the hitch of his breath. Then I tilt just enough, letting my tongue trace the seam of his lips until his mouth parts for me.
When I finally pull back, his eyes are still closed like he’s chasing the ghost of it.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
He groans. “You keep doing that, and I’m gonna end up fucking you right here. Or…well. You might be fucking me, since I can’t really move”
I let out a laugh. “Behave yourself,sir.”
He leans back against the couch with a theatrical groan, throwing his head back like he’s been mortally wounded. “You’re killing me here, lass. One minute, I’m trying to be a gentleman, and the next, you’ve got me all worked up.” He presses a hand to his chest, shooting me an exaggerated look of despair. “I might need some pain meds for this.”
I roll my eyes and laugh, but the sound dies off when I notice the way he shifts, like even sitting upright costs him.
His hand moves to his ribs, lingering there a second too long. It’s not part of the act.
I ease down beside him. “Hey,” I say, quieter now. “Jokes are fine. But let’s get you through this first, okay?”
He doesn’t answer, just nods once, his gaze dropping as if the pain’s finally catching up to him.
I sit there for a moment, watching this man who jokes through broken ribs and pretends nothing hurts.
But it does. I can see it, even when he tries to hide it.
And the truth is… I’m not fine, either. Not while he’s like this.
forty-two
BREE
The doorbell chimes, and my stomach flips. I drag in a breath, pressing my palms against my jeans in a useless attempt to calm myself. It’s surreal. Three weeks ago, I was pacing hospital hallways, drowning in fear. Now, I’m pacing the living room, nerves rattling for an entirely different reason. My parents are here.
I glance over at Callan, and the sight of him soothes some of the chaos swirling inside me. He’s upright, moving carefully, but there’s adoration in his eyes as he watches me like I’m the most fascinating thing in the room. It’s a far cry from those long nights in the hospital when every shift of his body made my heart stop.
Some parts of me feel like I’m still walking on unsteady ground, but I’m getting there. I think.
“You gonna answer that, or are we just letting them stand out there till they assume we’ve fled the country?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “I’mpreparingmyself.”
With another deep breath, I swing the door open. My parents are standing on my doorstep, fleshand blood, not just voices on a phone screen. Nugget is wiggling in front of them, all floppy tongue and boundless excitement.
“Surprise!” Mom’s voice is bright with excitement, and before I can react, she’s crushing me in a tight hug. “Oh, sweetheart, it’s so good to see you.”
It’s hard to breathe, but not because I’m trapped in her embrace. More like…because my heart can’t quite keep up. They’re here. They’re really here.
“I’ve missed you guys so much,” I whisper.
Dad joins the hug, sandwiching me between them. “We’ve missed you, too, kiddo.”
I pull back, blinking away the unexpected tears, only to laugh when Nugget starts demanding attention. I kneel down, wrapping my arms around him as he leaps into my lap, licking my face like he’s been deprived of love for centuries. “Oh, I missed you so much, buddy,” I mutter, laughing through the wet assault.
Nugget’s ears perk up as his eyes land on Callan, his head tilting to the side. And I get it, Callan looks different with his face still bearing the memory of his accident, his leg in a cast as he leans on his crutch.
Mom’s the first to notice and hurries toward him, hands reaching out in concern. “Oh, Callan.” She pulls him into a gentle hug. “Bless your heart. You’ve done a number to yourself.”
