Tor came backto consciousness slowly, trying to figure out where he was and why his body felt so heavy. Why was he lying on his side? He never slept on his side. There was something pressed up against his back, stopping him from rolling. Gods, he was hot.
Fucking Rafe. The last thing he could remember was his friend bringing him some kind of pungent herbal tea and promising it would make him feel better. Rafe had definitely drugged him. Which also explained the weird buzzing in his ears.
Tor opened his eyes, blinking to clear his hazy vision, then lifted his head to look behind him, and understood.
Keely had crawled into the clinic bed with him, fitting herself tightly against him, her chest against his back, her bandaged arm cradled between them. And she was snoring softly. It was the most beautiful noise he’d ever heard.
He rolled over carefully, pulled her close, and wrapped his free arm over her waist, pinning her safely against him. Then let himself drift back to sleep.
The next time he woke, the room was almost dark, while the gentle sound of soft rain pattered against the windows. And Keely was trying to sneak out from under his arm.
She wiggled, huffing out a breath as she silently slid down his body.
He grunted and closed his fingers over her hip, holding her tighter. “Stay, please.” His voice sounded rough in the calm quiet of the clinic.
She froze for a moment and then softened into him. “The baby needs to pee.”
He snorted. “The baby?”
She huffed louder. “Yes. Apparently, it’s one of the things that babies do. Make their mamas pee. Which makes the name I gave her even more fitting.”
“What name?” he asked softly.
“The pea.”
“You call her ‘the pea’?”
“Yup. Small. Helpless, and kinda sweet.” Keely shrugged slightly. “And, it turns out, doing something terrible to my bladder.”
He chuckled, a strange warmth growing in his heart. The pea. “Okay then.”
She looked pointedly at his hand on her hip. “I still need to go.”
He forced himself to lift his arm and give her space, but she must have sensed his reluctance, because she leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. “I’m coming back. I promise.”
She slid from the bed, wrapped a blanket around her shoulders, and tiptoed from the room.
He let her words repeat in his head.I’m coming back. Reminding himself that she had chosen to sleep beside him. She could have left while he was unconscious if that had been her intention.
Tor pushed himself up and leaned back against the wall, one knee bent, letting the blanket pool in his lap as he watched the rain trickle down the window in glistening paths.
Gods. He had come so very close to losing her. To losingthem.
First his awful words. Then Andred’s camp. The desperate escape. The fire. The reivers. And then watching Keely lie completely unresponsive as Rafe stitched her up—again. Alanna crying as she dressed her friend in his old shirt. It had almost been too much.
The door clicked open, and Keely let herself in, hovering for a moment before shutting the door behind her.
Her hair gleamed gold and red in the low firelight, spread in an unruly mass over the gray blanket around her shoulders. She stepped closer and his heartbeat thudded heavily in his ears as he fought not to crack his knuckles.
She had climbed into his bed. And she had come back as she promised. But maybe now she was remembering the rest of what had happened between them? Maybe now she was realizing he was not the kind of man she wanted around their baby. A soldier. One who hadn’t even been enough for his own parents. The kind of man Andred wanted to claim as his own. The kind of man who hurt her with his words. Maybe now she had decided to take their child and walk away?
Keely crossed the room and sat on the bed beside him, turning so her body faced his, her hands held together in her lap. She took in a long, slow breath. Then let it out, equally slowly.
Her eyes were on his, but her body was far away—too far—her teeth worrying that swollen bottom lip. It was so much like that first time, he couldn’t help repeating himself. He dragged his thumb down her lip, tugging gently until she released it, and then he leaned forward and kissed it better.
She sighed into his mouth and wrapped her good arm around his neck, holding him closer. He tasted her mouth, pressing gentle kisses onto her soft lips. Not hurrying, not demanding, simply feeling her with him. Alive and safe. But then she pulled away and pressed her forehead against his. “We have to talk.”
They did. He knew it and dreaded it in equal measure. “Okay,” he agreed. “If you’ll sit closer.”
