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“They hardly know me.”
He sets the spoon in the bowl and watches me quietly for a long moment.
“Anastasia, my family cares for you because I care for you. It’s hardly a burden for me to change their return tickets back to Ireland by a few days.”
“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, I’m just surprised.”
“Something you’ll learn about my family is, we take care of our own. Always. And if you’re with me, you’re one of us.”
“It’s that way in my family, too,” I admit quietly.
“Then it won’t be a difficult adjustment.”
“I never did call my parents.”
“I spoke with them. Archer gave me their number,” Kane says, surprising me again. “You were dead on your feet, and you could barely keep those gorgeous eyes open. I already met them at the barbeque the other day, so they’re not strangers to me, Anastasia.”
“You’re right.”
“They said they’d be by to see you in a day or two, once you’re on the mend.”
“Thank you.” I reach for his hand and kiss his palm. “Thank you for all of this. When a girl is as independent as I am, it’s hard to rely on someone else. But I’m grateful that you’re here to help me, and that you talked to my family for me when I couldn’t.”
“You’re welcome.” He takes a bite of stew.
“Is that what you were doing while I slept?”
“Some of it, yes.”
“What else did you do today?”
“I worked this morning,” he says. “I’m working on a new exhibit for the museum, actually. It came to me a few days ago, and now that I have it sketched out, I started firing the pieces this morning.”
“Can I see your sketches?”
His eyes narrow on me as he chews. “No.”
“Come on. I showed you mine, you can show me yours.”
“I want to show it to you when it’s done. Just trust me on this.”
“How long will it take?”
“A few weeks. Maybe more.”
“Have I told you before how I hate to wait? I’m not a terribly patient woman.”
“Well, that’s something we have in common then, isn’t it?”
“If you know how much it sucks to wait, why are you making me do it?”
He laughs and leans in to kiss my lips gently. “Trust me, Anastasia. It’ll be worth it.”
“Fine.” I kiss him again. “I’ll try to be patient. Did you finish the piece for the ex-president?”
“I did, and it’s already on the way to its new owner.”
“Oh, I was hoping I’d get to see it.”
My eyes are already heavy again.
“You should rest.”
“This is ridiculous. It’s just my shoulder. Why am I so damn tired?”
“Because your body is healing. Let it do its thing. You’ll be healthy again before you know it.”
“Will you hold me?”
I bite my lip, not pleased that I said that out loud, but Kane slips out of his clothes, leaving his underwear on, and helps me lie down. He curls himself around me, kisses my hair, and murmurs sweet words that sound far away as I float.
But I do hear one thing just before I drift off to sleep.
“Goodnight, mo ghra.” I feel a gentle kiss to my hair before a whispered, “My love.”Chapter Eleven~Anastasia~“We’re here!”
The room went from silent and still to party-mode in three-point-one seconds. I’ve been sitting in the living room, watching movies with Murphy while Kane works in his barn. It’s day three of the shoulder crisis, and I’m bored out of my ever-loving mind.
I don’t sit still well. Never have. But since Kane brought me home, that’s all he’s allowed me to do.
Which, I admit, is probably best for my shoulder, but not for my morale.
Seeing Will barge through the front door puts a huge smile on my face.
“And we brought food,” Archer adds, bringing up the rear behind Meg.
“You didn’t have to do that just for me,” I say and manage to stand without wincing. The shoulder aches. Ibuprofen helps. But if I show them I hurt, they’ll make me sit again.
I’m sick to death of sitting.
“We didn’t,” Will says with a grin. “I plan to help you eat it.”
“Me, too,” Archer says and winks. “Especially the cupcakes Nic sent with us.”
“They eat all the time,” Meg says, rolling her eyes.
“You’ve been part of this family for roughly six years,” I remind her. “You should be used to it by now.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it,” she says with a laugh. I show them back to the kitchen with Murphy on my heels, wagging his tail and greeting the others.
“He’s not exactly a guard dog,” Archer says and chuckles as he squats next to the dog and rubs his ears.
“No, he’s a companion, Murphy is.”
Our heads turn to the back door at the sound of Kane’s voice.
“We have company,” I say and walk to him, offering my lips up for a kiss, which Kane happily gives to me.
