I throw a glance her way before I concentrate on the road ahead of us when I answer, “She’s fine.She’s been calling me every day.”
Mainly to bug me, making sure I’m nice to Jaxie, and how she’s a sweet girl.Sweet enough to give her grandchildren if I manage to knock her up.Shit.Where the hell did that thought come from?
“Okay.”Her sweet voice carries through the air, like her scent.
Sweet, vanilla with a hint of strawberry and lime.
Clearing my throat, I ask her a personal question to shift the topic, “Did you used to talk with your father by using words or sign?”
“Talk,” she instantly replies.“A-after he j-joined a s-s-speech therapy s-session he talked w-with my t-therapist who told him f-frequency is t-the k-key.”
I shoot her a sly smile.“All the more reason to keep talking to me.”
I catch her rolling her eyes and hear her voice when I focus back on the road.“I o-only talk to E-Elodie, and m-my f-father.”
“And now me,” I tell her, in the hopes to throw her off the fact that she can’t talk to her father anymore.
“You didn’t really g-give me a c-choice,” she grumbles.
I notice her stutter is less if she keeps using her voice, or maybe it’s when she’s less stressed, who knows?
“Mind telling me why you want to go to the house?Didn’t you lock everything up so you could stay at the cabin for the upcoming few months?”
A soft sigh flows from her, and it takes her a few heartbeats to tell me, “I just w-want to check something.”
“Check something,” I echo.
“I k-keep going over e-everything inside my mind.”Sadness weighs heavy in her voice, and it tugs at my heartstrings.
Without thinking, I reach for her hand and lace her fingers with mine.“Everything will be fine.”
“I hope so,” she murmurs without a stutter.
I give our joined hands a squeeze, and vow, “I’ll make it so.”
She squeezes back.“I’m g-glad my father b-brought you into my l-life.”
Fuck.Way to gut-punch my conscience.I give another light squeeze and let go of her hands to grab the wheel.My knuckles turn white as I stare at the road in front of us.Getting involved with a client is a no-go in any situation.
Even if the one who gave me the assignment is now dead, I really shouldn’t get personally involved.Touching her unraveled something we shouldn’t explore, not when her life could be at stake.It’s a distraction I can’t afford when my body is already lacking from the abilities I used to have before I retired.
