He nodded, but relief didn’t reach his eyes. He stood and opened the lid to the kit and took out the antiseptic. “This is probably going to sting.”
She gave a breathless little laugh. “I can handle it.”
He wetted a cotton ball and dabbed at the wound on her forehead. “How did you get this?”
“I hit my head on a vase, which I then used to knock out Fitsgerald. It only seemed fitting.”
“Sharp debriefed me. You acted heroically. I should have been there for you.”
“Don’t, Bear. You’re here now.”
His gaze met hers and there was a flicker of something in his eyes that awakened more of her emotions. Did she think she could ever be away from him?
He brushed her hair aside as he gently cleaned the wound above her brow.
“It’s not bad. I’ll live,” she said. His touch was stirring up emotions.
“It’s not too bad.”
“What happened tonight? Did you find out anything?” she asked.
He rummaged through the old tin first aid box with a force that told her he had a lot of restlessness inside him. “Clark set up his fake death. He was trying to get away but Fitsgerald found him and shot him.”
“You’re shaking.” She laid her hand on Bear’s.
“I’m pissed. The man was embroiled in a lot of shit, but he tried to make things right by handing over ledgers and documentation that will bring Fletcher down. Fitsgerald has been arrested and will be interrogated for information, but we have a solid case.”
She touched his wrist lightly. “I wasn’t involved in any of Bentley’s business dealings. It was happening right under my nose.”
“I already knew this. I’m sorry that I had to keep things from you,” he said quietly, stepping back between her legs, his body filling the space, crowding out all the bad.
“I can get why you couldn’t tell me everything, truly I do, but I wish you could have trusted me enough to tell me.”
He met her gaze. “It wasn’t that I didn’t trust you.” He squeezed out some ointment on the tip of his finger. “Hold still.”
“That usually means it’s going to hurt.”
“It will. Worse than the antiseptic.”
The cool gel touched her skin and the sting was instant. She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing. She grabbed his shirt, bunching the damp fabric with her fingers. “You’re right.”
“I know, sweetheart. This is the good stuff though. It’ll help heal the wound faster.”
Sweetheart. That made her heart beat faster.
“The sting is easing up.”
“Good.” He recapped the tube. “There’s a lot we still need to talk about. Questions I need to answer.”
“Not tonight.” She offered him a slight smile. “I’m too tired. I need every brain cell functioning when we discuss everything.” She wrapped her fingers over his wrist. She looked from her sun to his moon tattoo. They were bound.
He put a bandage on her wound and cleaned up his mess. “Where are you staying tonight?”
She shrugged. “I’m guessing Phoebe is staying with Grimes. I really haven’t thought that far ahead for myself.”
“I’d like for you to stay with me.” His eyes held something deep, an ache that went all the way into his soul.
“I’d like that. I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be.”
