When Brian walked through the back door, warm outside air drifted in with him, along with the faint scent of deli meat and fresh bread.
“I brought reinforcements,” he said, jutting his chin toward the enthusiastic canine who rushed past him.
Jinx barreled straight into her legs, nearly knocking her off balance. She huffed out a surprised breath and dropped to one knee, careful of her ribs, as the dog pressed against her like a living, breathing weighted blanket with fur. She slid her hands over his sleek coat, and he licked her cheek, tail thumping against the floor in rapid-fire beats.
Brian set the bag on the dining table and watched her for a moment, his gaze steady and assessing.
“How are you holding up?”
She scratched behind Jinx’s ears and didn’t look up right away. “Like someone who jumps at noisy washing machines.”
Brian closed the distance between them and held his hand out to her. “C’mon. Let him calm down for a few minutes before he accidentally hurts you.”
She slipped her fingers into his and let him pull her up. The movement tugged at her ribs, and she couldn’t stop the small wince, her free hand instinctively pressing against her side. Brian’s grip tightened immediately, his other hand coming to her waist to steady her. “Easy. Here I am worried about the mutt hurting you, and I do it by helping you up.”
“I’m fine. Just a twinge now and then.”
“I’m sure it’s more than a twinge. Did you take anything for the pain?”
The ER doctor had told her to take acetaminophen if needed when she refused his offer to prescribe something a little stronger. “Yeah, but that was hours ago. I’ll take some more with lunch.”
Jinx circled them in tight, excited loops, his tail thumping against Brian’s leg and nails clicking against the floor. He gave one last happy bark before suddenly deciding there were more interesting things to be found elsewhere and bolted down the hall toward Andy’s room.
Brian’s hand lingered at her waist. Not possessive. Not claiming. Just there—solid and steady. Although, if she were being honest, she had no issue with him claiming her if he wanted to. Her heart already belonged to him, even before he became her savior.
“I’m not leaving you alone right now. And it’s not just for you—it’s for me, too.” His voice wasn’t as steady as he probably intended. “I almost lost you, Tess. I’m still trying to wrap my head around that. So for the next few days, I’m not letting you out of my sight unless you physically throw me out.”
The honesty in it undid her.
Emotion hit so fast it stole the air from her lungs. Not control. Not an obligation. Not some overprotective impulse.
Fear.
His.
“Brian—”
He didn’t let her finish. He brushed a kiss across her forehead, then pulled her into a firm, warm embrace. One hand cradled the back of her head, the other settled protectively at her waist, careful of her ribs.
She let herself sink into him.
For the first time since the warehouse, since the blast, since the single gunshot that still echoed in her head, her body stopped bracing for impact.
His heart pounded hard and steady beneath her ear.
Footsteps sounded in the hallway, and they both shifted automatically.
Jinx trotted into the living room first, nails clicking lightly on the floor. Andy followed a step behind and stopped short when he saw them standing close.
Brian’s hand dropped from her waist, and Tess stepped back, the movement instinctive. Her brother had never seen her being even slightly intimate with a man.
“It’s all good.” Andy lifted one hand slightly, like he was waving off a gnat. His eyes were still rimmed red, but there was a small, awkward determination there now. “You don’t have to do that.”
Tess blinked. “Do what?”
“Pretend you’re not—um—not together.” He rubbed the back of his neck as his cheeks pinkened. He might say he wasn’t embarrassed, but clearly he was—at least a little. “I’m not five.”
The corners of her mouth twitched in amusement. Brian’s expression softened, but he stayed quiet.
