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I was happy to see that she allowed me to do it today.
“Thanks,” I murmured as I opened first her car door, and then the door to the convenience store. “I was hoping you wouldn’t give me shit.”
She snorted. “I lost that battle a long time ago, Wade. And, if it makes you happy to open the car door for me, who am I to tell you that you can’t?”
I winked at her and went down the aisle that had the beef jerky, while she went to the one that had the candy.
I stepped wrong when I bent down to get my favorite brand and felt bile rise up my throat as my wound reminded me that it hated me for only the seventy-fifth time today.
“Wade?”
I dropped my eyes so she wouldn’t see the pain, and said, “Yeah?”
“You want me to get it?” she offered.
No. What I wanted was for my leg to be better. What I wanted was for her to be back in my bed. What I wanted was for my life to be what it was before she’d left.
What I got wasn’t that.
But I was working on it.
“Yeah,” I croaked. “Would you?”
She bent down and the tank she was wearing rode up, displaying a sliver of skin above her shorts.
My tattoo was on her upper hip, right where I’d left it.
It was a picture of a shield—my badge—and my numbers on it.
She’d gotten it the day before we’d married, and then had shown it to me the moment we’d arrived in Bora Bora for our honeymoon.
I’d fucked her…
I immediately shut that line of thought off before I could so much as think about how it felt to be inside of her while staring at my stamp on her right hip.
If I didn’t, I’d not only have a stiff, sore leg, but I’d also wind up with a stiff, throbbing cock.
“Thank you,” I murmured when she stood up, her shirt once again covering her tattoo.
She smiled at me. “I got what I want. I’m going to go to the bathroom just in case, and I’ll meet you at the door.”
I grinned.
She knew I wouldn’t leave her in here alone.
I’d never been able to do that—walk out and wait in the car.
It was an odd habit that my father had also done for my mother and sisters. I’d done it for my sisters, and then Landry.
God, I missed her.
I missed her so bad that it hurt.
“Okay, honey.” I lifted my hand as if to touch her cheek, and her eyes widened.
I stopped short of actually touching her, realizing what I was doing almost too late, and let my hand drop. “Sorry.
She smiled and patted my hand, then walked away, once again leaving me to stare at her ass the entire way.Chapter 7You look like something I drew with my left hand.
-Text from Wade to Landry
Landry
I felt like I was struggling to breathe.
God.
How had he known that I needed to stop? How had he known that I was hungry?
Why did the man know me so well?
At least, well enough to know my signs, I supposed.
After washing my hands in the sink, I dried them and contemplated how the next couple of hours were going to go.
I had a feeling not very good based on the way my heart was racing, and my knees felt weak.
Pushing through, though, I made my way outside to see him standing at the entrance of the building, waiting on me like he always did.
I smiled.
That smile grew even wider when I saw him clock the woman holding the screaming baby, looking extremely flummoxed as she tried to calm the baby down.
She had a toddler at her hip, whom she was holding onto by his shoulder with her one free hand, and she was watching another child get her own Icee, and making a big damn mess while doing it.
“No, honey,” the mother was trying to explain. “Put the lid on first.”
I continued to watch as Wade limped his way over, trying to conceal his pain the entire way.
When he arrived at the Icee machine, he helped the kid get the lid on the cup, then handed it back to her.
The kid, who had to be about four or five, looked over at Wade and grinned.
Kids always loved Wade. Always.
I didn’t know why. I didn’t know how. But I’d never seen one child who was afraid of him. Which usually ended up freaking the parent out.
“Thank you,” the mother said. “She’s independent and wanted to do it herself but as you can see she’s just not there yet.”
The mother lifted her hand from the toddler to gesture at her other child, and the toddler took off.
It was then I realized the reason behind the grip on the toddler.
He was a runner.
Wade caught him before he could skirt by him to the rack of candy at Wade’s back and picked him up in his arms.
