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Kira left the shower stall and slipped into a fluffy robe. The past two days had been surprisingly emotional. She had been a spectator, due to not speaking the language. Yet she could feel the concern in his voice when he addressed the nurses, or called the doctors. The way his shoulders stiffened, his muscles creasing his shirt.
Yes, she’d been too invested in all his reactions.
She grabbed a brush and swept it through her damp hair. Stop paying so much attention to him, a little voice inside her pleaded. She sighed. Ignoring the magnificent male was next to impossible.
A part of her wished she could take the pain away. Even without speaking French, she knew his love for his mother was deep and unconditional. Any son would suffer to see their parent withering away, the memories becoming shorter, the confusion expanding.
When she joined him in the interior of their bedroom, she found him on the bed, reading something on his laptop.
“How is it for you? Being back?”
He shrugged. “I haven’t been gone that long.”
She nodded. In a much different way, she imagined what would be like when she returned to Hope Springs in a couple of weeks… now married. Facing her entire family, including her sister and Andrew. An acidy sensation bubbled in her stomach, quickly working its way up her throat. “I wonder what it’ll be like when I go to Texas again… after living in NYC.” She had only been gone for months and not years, but the awkwardness would be there.
He put his laptop on the nightstand and lifted his chin, watching her more carefully. “Why are you afraid?”
Do you want the entire list or only the top three?The snarky comeback burned at the tip of her tongue, but she found herself unable to say it. “I never told you I was afraid,” she said, then crossed her arms over her chest and sat at the edge of the bed.
His lips curled in the corner of his sexy mouth. “You don’t have to.”
Clearing her throat, she looked away. His words pierced into a part of her that usually didn’t allow any cracks. She could mention Andrew, but shit, her fragile relationship with her parents encompassed so much more than that. She glanced at him, at his unmoving form, the way he tilted his head and scooted a notch closer, like he wanted her to tell him.
She shouldn’t. What kind of pathetic loser would he take her for? One thing was to be betrayed by your sister. Another one to be betrayed by your family—constantly, even when they weren’t aware of it.
Her heart squeezed in her chest, and the burning sensation from earlier returned. Apprehension boiled in her gut, and the only way to get rid of it would be to talk it out. It wasn’t like he was her real husband, anyway. They had an agreement. He’d be out of her life in less than a year—she may as well use him as free therapy.
“You know about my sister, right? She was sick when she was six. And that’s why my parents had me. So I didn’t feel like I really belonged.”
“Yes, you’ve mentioned. But your parents must be so grateful.”
“They are, I guess.” She licked her lips, nervous. “They mean well and they’re good people,” she said, hating how defensive she sounded. During her life, how many times had she repeated that to herself?
“But?”
“But for the longest time, I’ve felt they were so used to making sure my sister was okay, that even after she was okay and healthy, she was still their priority.” She looked down at her lap, unsure if she was embarrassed for having lived it or sharing.
He scooted closer, so close she felt hints of his masculine scent around her. He lifted her chin, giving her no way out from his compassionate yet intense stare. “I’m sorry.”
“Thanks. They aren’t bad people,” she said, self-conscious. They’d meet him, and somehow what he thought of them mattered for her even if he wouldn’t stick around in her life for long enough. “I guess they did what they had to do, like when they got me a cocker spaniel puppy for my birthday. I was so happy. I named him Harry. But then the puppy had to go away after two weeks because of my sister’s pet allergy that we didn’t know she had,” she said, remembering how she’d kept the little blanket she bought Harry for many months until her mother threw it in the trash, explaining she had to move on from the dog.
“I understand. Growing up, my mother had some… mental issues, even before losing her memory. I’ve been taking care of her since a young age.”
“How young?”
“This isn’t about me,” he said. “I appreciate you being loyal to your family. But you have to think of yourself too.”
“That’s why I moved to New York with my cousins.”
“I’m glad you did. Otherwise we never would have met,” he said, and the tenderness in his tone had the power of stripping her naked.
“Yes, just imagine that. You’d get a much more mature assistant with lots of attitude and you’d make out with her and then marry her. Someone sly as a fox.” The idea of him sleeping with someone else, with another assistant and fake wife, churned her stomach. She wanted to believe he wouldn’t be the way he was with her with anyone else. Wanted to believe they understood each other, cared for each other and maybe… maybe more? She gave herself a mental slap on the face. Don’t say it. Hold back.
“Don’t underestimate older assistants. They have a lot of experience under their belt,” he said, and she for one was grateful the light, flirty energy between them returned.
“Oh, I’m sure you’d enjoy that. Though it’s hard to think of someone being able to teach you anything in the bedroom department.”
“I disagree. You, Kira Jones, teach me things every day,” he said, once again with that heaviness in his words from earlier, like each word carried a weight he’d removed from his shoulders. Like he… needed to say these things. And felt them.
