“But at some point.”
She chews on her lower lip. “She was really nice.”
“She is. And we can pay her in haskap berries.”
“She’s a doctor who deserves to be paid properly for her services,” she says hotly.
“It was a joke. Once you feel safe enough to register as her patient, of course she’ll bill the provincial insurance properly. But it’s very thoughtful of you to worry about her, and my brother, and everyone else.” I hook my hands around Hope’s hips and tug her in against me, muttering an apology for her ears only. “My little healer.”
She twists in my arms. “That’s just trauma.”
I guess that’s part of it. The hurt we suffer can sometimes teach us remarkably useful skills. Her exprobably took advantage of that, weaponized her gentle nature and took advantage of her desire to take care of people.
It would be a shame to harden her. Her softness and vulnerability don’t need to be weaknesses if she has a strong protector who can shield her from predators like Derek Hitchkoff.
The line I need to carefully walk is that I don’t want her to ever think of my protection as a need to control her.
“Thank you for trusting me to guide how we took care of this today,” I whisper against her lips.
She tightens her arms around my neck. “I’m just glad I didn’t hurt him.”
“That’s on me for not communicating to him the need to not sneak into his own damn house. I saw his truck come up the drive on the trail cam, but I thought he’d announce himself. What a dumbass.”
“But a dumbass with a good sense of humour.” She smiles and kisses me. “And a very good big brother.”
“Mmm… Show me how good you think I am before Bellamy wakes up from her nap.”
Hope laughs. “Oh, the drama she’s missed!”
By the next morning, Dax is right as rain and up at dawn, because he went to bed extra early.
“I’m just going to wait for my new phone to arrive, then get back on the road,” he announces to the full kitchen.
“What do you need? What can I give you?”Hope flutters around the kitchen. “Your mom and I made some fresh yogurt two days ago.”
“Yogurt is the devil’s load. I’m not touching that shit.” He clears his throat when I growl at him. “No offence, Hope.”
“None taken. Peanut butter toast?”
“What happened to bacon?” He grins at me. “Yogurt and berries and peanut butter toast. This house is getting girlie in my absence.”
“Dax Kincaid, breakfast foods aren’t gendered,” Luna snaps.
“The fuck they aren’t,” he teases.
She isn’t impressed. “Dax!”
“What?”
“Language. There is a child in this house.”
“I thought I was the child in this house?” He glances around. “Where is the rugrat?”
“She’s gone back upstairs to jump on your couch now that you’re out of your room,” Hope says dryly.
“So she didn’t hear me.” He shrugs.
I roll my eyes. “You still said it in front of a guest.”
