A nod this time.
“Okay, I’ll leave you then.” I said pressed a gentle hand to his shoulder and gave him a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll be in the living room if you need me.”
His strong grip on my wrist held me in place. Worry settled around him, tensing up his shoulders and making his gaze sharp once more as he offered me a pleading look.
“I—I can stay if you want,” I offered, moving to pull down the blankets before settling myself among the pillows, urging him to lay down with a soft pat of the bed. He obeyed silently, curling up beside me. There was something so earnest, so pure and innocent about the movement, I almost smiled.
He rested his head on the pillow beside me, our bodies touching. Under normal circumstances, I’d be all about this level of closeness, but there wasn’t anything romantic about this right now. Hooking up was the last thing on my mind. Not when his jaw was still clenched, and I could all but feel every single tensed muscle in his body.
I turned on my side to regard him, taking him in for a long moment. “I’m sorry,” I finally choked out in a whisper. “For everything.”
He lifted his shoulder in a shrug, grabbing one of my hands and giving it a gentle squeeze.
I shook my head, a soft smile toying on my lips. Ever the gentlemen, even when he was falling apart at the seams. I ran my fingertips across his forehead, careful to avoid the cut on his eyebrow. “Girls will love this one,” I murmured.
Something darkened, hardened in his gaze as he shook his head.
I huffed. “I’m pretty sure I speak for most girls when I say eyebrow scars are hot.”
He didn’t answer, just shrugged his shoulders silently once more, his gaze fogging over a bit. He didn’t withdraw to the depths he’d been in. And from the look on his face, he wasn’t in such a desolate, lifeless state, but I still didn’t like that it was so easy for him to fall back there.
“What can I do?” I asked, clutching his hands in mine.
I wished he’d answer. Dear Lord, I really did, but he didn’t. A soft hum came from his lips, though. The closest thing I’d get to an answer. It took me a moment to realize what he was doing. I recognized the tune of “Deeper Than the Holler”, which I’d been singing in the shower with him.
I smiled softly. “You want me to sing?”
A nod.
My heart warmed a bit, a welcome replacement to the worry and concern brewing in my chest. “I can do that,” I said, sitting up slightly to make myself more comfortable.
And then I began to sing.
Between the close proximity and the lack of anything to distract me like in the shower, my heart thumped in my ears like a drum beat, causing my nerves to ratchet up higher and higher the longer he held my gaze. I was so painfully aware of his quiet presence. It’d been a long time since I’d sung for anyone. Probably Daddy when I went to visit him for Christmas last year. But I’d never sung for anyone like this.
Someone who listened to me as if their life depended on it.
While it made me self-conscious, it also felt…nice to be so needed. To know that what I did mattered to someone. Even if it was something as simple as singing a Randy Travis song.
With each verse, his eyes grew heavier, the tension in his limbs smoothing out as sleep descended over him. He fought it to the very end—tooth and nail—making him seem boyish almost. It was cute and innocent.
I slid from the bed carefully, so as not to wake him. He stirred for just a second, stopping me in my tracks, but only to turn over and snuggle into the blankets more. I tiptoed across the room toward the bedroom door.
“Brandy,” I whispered, looking to her at the foot of the armchair. She hadn’t left the spot since before the shower. I nodded toward the door—a silent command I had no doubt she understood.
She stood up slowly, making sure to stretch every limb in her entire body like the dramatic girl she was, earning an eye roll from me. I swear, if she woke him up. “Really?” I hissed under my breath, gesturing to the door once more. “Let’s go.”
Brandy began padding over to me, her toes click-clacking on the ground. I grimaced at the sound.I hope Mav’s a heavy sleeper.
But instead of coming to my side, Brandy hopped up onto the bed, her brown gaze filled with challenge as she hovered over Maverick’s sleeping body.
I gritted my teeth. “Get down,” I hissed in my best quiet, take-no-shit voice.
Her only answer was to spin around once and plop down beside Maverick, even going so far as to lay her head atop his side.
I rolled my eyes. “Fine, you wake him up, you’re dealin’ with it.”
With a final glance at the two of them, I slipped from the room and eased the door closed.
