“I know.”
She sat on the edge of my bed holding the glass in both hands. “You really don’t have to babysit me, Logan.” She tried for her usual stoic tone, but I could see in her eyes the pain hadn’t let go.
“Who said anything about babysitting?” I crouched slightly so we were eye-level. “You’ve been holding everything together while I was gone. Tonight, just let me take care of you.”
Her eyes softened as she glanced down at her hands, fingers twisting nervously. Her lip twitched as if she was about to speak, but then she paused. “Thank you.”
“Anytime, Darlin’,” I said gently.
She took one step toward the hall before folding in half and wrapping her hands around her stomach. Her face was wincing in pain.
That was all it took.
I crossed the room in two strides and caught her before she could even protest. One arm slid behind her knees, the other braced around her back, lifting her clean off the floor.
“Logan,” she started.
“Easy,” I murmured, instinct taking over. “I’ve got you.”
Her breath left her in a delicate sound as she settled against me, warm and solid, her weight fitting against my chest like something I’d been missing without realizing it. Her legs curled slightly, bare skin pressing into my forearm, and the sensation hit me low and immediate.
She smelled like lavender soap and steam and something softer underneath her. Familiar already. And all of it felt dangerous.
She rested a hand against my shoulder, fingers curling into the fabric of my shirt like she needed the anchor as much as I did. I could feel the subtle tremor in her body, the way she tried to hide how much the pain had taken out of her.
“Logan, I can walk,” the words slipped from her lips softly.
“I know,” I murmured. “You’re strong. You don’t need me to.”
My gaze held hers.
“But I want to. So stop fightin’ me on this and just… let me.”
I carried her the short distance to the guestroom bed, every step deliberate, careful. Her head tucked just under my chin, damp hair brushing my jaw. The contact lit something under my skin. The heat, awareness, the pull of her being this close.
I lowered her onto the bed slowly, making sure she was settled before I let go. My hands lingered a fraction longer than necessary. One at her waist, the other braced at her shoulder like my body hadn’t quite caught up with the idea of stepping back.
She looked up at me then. Eyes tired, soft, trusting.
And that nearly undid me.
“You look… good in that,” I admitted, because pretending otherwise felt like another kind of lie.
Her mouth curved into a small smile. “Yeah?”
“Too good,” I said. “Makes it harder to remember you’re supposed to be resting.”
She reached for my wrist, thumb brushing against my pulse. “I am resting.”
The contact sent a slow, grounding heat through me.
She hesitated for a moment, glancing toward the doorway, then back at me. “Stay.”
It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t even hesitant.
I swallowed and made myself step back, even though every instinct wanted to stay exactly where I was, wanted to pull her back into my arms and pretend I didn’t feel the line I was walking.
I swallowed hard. “You sure?”
