“I love you.”
Chapter Thirty-four
Kenna
I wake up and wipe my eyes. My mouth is dry and tastes like something died inside it. Amelia is sleeping on the other side of the bed. I touch the back of my hand to her forehead, relieved to feel she isn’t as warm as she was yesterday. Or was it the day before? I seem to have lost all track of time.
I also feel better. Much better. And I’m starving.
When I go out to see what I can scrounge up for breakfast, Carter is sound asleep on the couch. No way can that be comfortable. How long has he been here? One night? Two? When I get my phone off the charger, I discover it’s Tuesday morning. Oh, my gosh. Has he really been here for three days?
I quickly brush my teeth then crouch down on the floor next to the sofa and gently shake Carter’s shoulder. “Carter. Wake up. You need to go to work.”
His eyes flutter open. He sees me and smiles. “You look—”
“Like hell. Yeah, I know. I need a shower like a fish needs water.”
He laughs and runs a hand down my jawline. “I was going to say you look so much better.”
“Have you really been here since Saturday? What about Christian? And work?”
“I was needed here more.”
My butt hits the floor as guilt consumes me.
He sits up and pulls me onto the couch next to him. “You were sick. Both of you. No way could you have taken care of Amelia in your condition. Christian stayed with Dax. He’s a big boy, he can handle it. And I think he likes having Christian around the house, too.” He chuckles at his dig at his brother, andI can’t help smiling. How does he do that? Keep things in such perfect perspective. Even after the past few days. “Plus,” he says as he stretches, “I can’t remember the last time I took a day off. I had one coming. It’s no big deal.”
Bits and pieces of the last few days come back to me, and I cover my face, feeling it turn bright red. “Oh, God. Did you really have to clean up Amelia’s vomit?”
“Not just once.” He holds up three fingers. “Three times. Even her gut is messy.”
“I’m so, so sorry.”
“I’m kidding, Kenna. Boy dad. I’ve cleaned up way worse things in my life.”
“You played games with her. Cooked for us. Put us to bed. Gave us medicine. I just…” I put my head on his shoulder. “Thank you.”
He kisses my forehead. “It was my pleasure. Now, you go get that shower. I’ll make breakfast.”
“I feel much better today. You should go back to work.”
He gets up, pulls me off the couch, and nudges me toward the bathroom. “I will. But first I’m making you breakfast. Now go.”
I detour to check on Amelia, who’s still sleeping. Then I take perhaps the best shower of my life, washing off days of sickness, after which I feel like a brand-new woman.
My mouth waters—a sure sign my appetite has fully returned—when I emerge from the bathroom to see platters of eggs, bacon, and pancakes.
Carter holds out a chair for me and I sit. “You’re amazing,” I say. “Nobody is this good all the time, Carter.”
He kisses the top of my wet head. “If you truly believe that, you’ve been hanging out with the wrong people.”
The internal battle strikes again. Because he’s closer to the truth than he realizes. In my experience, everyone wantssomething in return. Which begs the question—what is it he wants?
You, the voice in my mind screams.He wants you, Kenna.
A strange vision floats in my head. Carter whispering ‘I love you’ and then kissing my cheek. My heart flutters. Is that what I want to happen?
Could that really be all he wants? Is he who he appears to be? Can a man be this kind and sincere without ulterior motives? More and more, I’m beginning to believe Carter Cruz is exactly the kind of man he’s shown me to be—which is the opposite of every other man in my life.
