Page 33 of Unexpected Complication

It felt good to sleep—really sleep. Skylar was safe in her room—the door locked, windows barred. As an added precaution, once she was in her room, I tied a rope around the door handle across the hall to mine. If somehow she managed to pick the lock with her toenail or by digging a screw out of the floorboards, when she opened her door, mine would slam shut and she’d be caught. I wasn’t taking any chances when it came to her. Knowing she was secure, sleep came easily.

I had checked on her not long after she’d gotten up to go to bed, clutching her prized bag of Oreos and still giggling over the fact that she’d beaten us both in cards. I’d found her curled up, already asleep, her book on the floor. I’d made sure her covers were wrapped around her and, for some reason, flicked on the bathroom light, in case she woke up scared.

I had to fight not to kiss her soft cheek.

I stretched in bed, glancing at the clock, surprised to see it was after eight. I heard movement in the house, so I got up and got ready for the day. In the kitchen, I found both Sean and Skylar. He was wolfing down a stack of pancakes, and Skylar was nibbling on some toast.

I sat down, reaching for the plate of pancakes. “Not hungry?” I asked Skylar quietly, after greeting them both. She shook her head.

Sean indicated the window. “The snow stopped for now, but it’s still blowing. I’m gonna do some shoveling. You can get the snowblower going after you’re done eating.”

“Okay—sounds good.”

“I can help,” Skylar offered.

Sean shook his head and took his plate to the sink. “Not with your hands.” He smiled at her. “We’ll play some cribbage after I’m done.”

He left the room, and after a few minutes, he passed through the kitchen, wearing his thick coat and boots. There was silence before Skylar spoke. “Do you play crib, Cian?”

I shook my head. “Not my favorite game.”

“What is?”

“Backgammon,” I stated without hesitation. “But we don’t have a board.” I finished my food and pushed away the plate.

“Are you going to lock me in my room again?”

I ran my hands through my hair. “While we’re outside, yes.”

“I could sweep the steps or something.”

Her voice sounded so sad, and I hated it. Maybe a little fresh air would do her some good. “Will you try to run?”

“No.”

“Let me see your hands.”

She held them out, and I peeled the large bandage off her palm. The biggest gash looked like it was healing, the skin cool to my touch. I looked up as I ran my finger over the skin. “Does it hurt?”

“Not much.”

I frowned and reached for my coffee. I drank it in silence while I made a decision. “If you try to run, I’ll tie you up,” I stated, my voice low and serious. “For good. No more freedoms at all.”

“I won’t.”

“I don’t want you hurting your hands again.”

She shook her head. “I just want to go outside.” Her voice was pleading. “I hate being in that room, alone.”

I leaned over and grabbed a bag off the counter, handing it to her. Her eyes widened as she pulled out the thick scarf, hat, and mittens I had requested Sean pick up. A smile so bright it warmed the room appeared on her face, and before I knew what was happening, she pressed a kiss to my cheek and flung her arms around my neck in a tight hug. Pulling back fast, she scampered down the hall. “I’ll be ready in five minutes!” she called over her shoulder.

I sat, frozen. I could feel the heat on my cheek where her lips had touched. Smell the scent of her hair where it brushed my skin. Feel the lingering warmth of her brief touch. I liked it—I liked all of it. With a start, I realized I was covering my cheek where her lips had been, as if holding her kiss onto my skin.

My head fell back as I groaned.

I was in such trouble.

Deep, fucking trouble.