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Burke frowned and took a step back. “Yeah…well…”
“Well nothing. I’m not telling you not to gut him. I’m asking for it not to be right now. Not right here.”
Something was changing in Garret’s face. His eyes were cooling, and the too-sharp features of his face were softening as he watched her. “Give us a minute?” Garret asked Burke quietly.
“Yep,” Burke said, then hightailed it out the door.
Garret didn’t seem ready to talk, so she sat down on the bed—knees together, hands in her lap. She waited as he paced to the window and back, then threw his hat against the wall and stood still, his profile to her as he glared out the window.
Finally, he looked at her. “Are you all right?” He’d asked it in a harsh tone, but she was beginning to understand him. He was rough around the edges, but in his own way, he cared.
She nodded. “Are you okay?”
“I’m always okay. Don’t ask that again. I don’t want you talkin’ to Clint anymore, you hear?”
“I didn’t mean to talk to him in the first place.” She rubbed her arm, which still throbbed from Clint’s grasp.
Garret suddenly knelt in front of her. His glowing eyes searched her face. “Let me see.”
“It’s nothing.”
With one impatient glance from her husband, Eliza pulled the sleeve gently up her sore arm. Four perfect finger marks shone red on the delicate inside of her arm, and one on the outside. They would surely make colorful bruises by morning. Stupid werewolves.
Garret touched each mark with the brush of a fingertip, and sat back on the heels of his boots. As he rubbed his hand over the stubble on his face, his barely-contained fury had her reaching for him. She cupped her hand to his cheek, and to her relief, he didn’t lash out at her. Instead, he heaved a sigh and leaned into her touch. His short whiskers were rough against the sensitive skin on the palm of her hand.
“Don’t do anything you’ll regret, Garret.” She’d said it quietly, but he heard it. She knew he really absorbed what she’d said, because he exhaled the breath he’d been holding and he nodded.
He pushed her knees apart, slid his arms around her waist, and settled into the space she created with her spread knees. “You’re okay,” he uttered.
She ran her fingernails against his scalp and looked out the window, then nodded. “I am.” She was much better now.
He let a long exhale out of his lungs, then eased away from her. “I’ll get you lunch,” he said as he retrieved his hat from the floor. “We’ll eat downstairs and then head back to the ranch.”
“All right.”
“Collect yourself, Eliza. Come down when you’re ready. I’ll have a pair of drinks waiting.”
She couldn’t help her smile as she watched him leave the room. He’d told her they would drink together one day, and he would make it a safe, fun experience for her. Clearly, today was that day.
Garret Shaw didn’t know how to say he cared, but he knew how to show it.
She was learning him.
He hesitated at the door before he left. “You’re really okay?” he asked once more.
With a single nod of her head, he lowered the brim of his hat over his angry, glowing gaze and left her to settle her racing heartbeat.
Didn’t he know?
Didn’t he see?
He’d pulled her out of a terrifying moment and made her feel seen, and warm, and safe.
She would lift a rifle to Clint Jennings’s chest, just like she had done to Wyatt Jennings, if it meant Garret would be okay.
Garret didn’t even realize how loyal he was making her.
Chapter Nineteen
