“They weren’t that heavy!”
“You’re in a town full of Others who would be happy to help with heavy lifting.” His expression was stern, but his eyes were warm. “Use them.”
“I don’t want to be a bother.”
“You’re not a bother. You’re pregnant. There’s a difference. And besides, most of them would be thrilled to show off their strength.” He stood and offered her his hand. “Come on. I’m taking you home and making sure you drink a full glass of water. Then you’re going to rest.”
She let him pull her up. “I can drive myself?—”
“No.”
“Victor—”
“Chloe.” He stepped closer, his hands settling on her shoulders. “You called me terrified. I’m not putting you behind the wheel until I’m absolutely certain you’re calm and steady. Humor me.”
She could see the real concern beneath his professional demeanor. The fear he’d hidden while examining her, now bleeding through in the tightness around his eyes.
“Okay,” she said softly. “Thank you for coming.”
“Always.” The word was quiet but absolute.
He quickly gathered her things—bag, jacket, the stack of documents she’d been reviewing—then he ushered her out of the archives, one hand at the small of her back. The November air was icy after the warmth of the basement. She shivered despite her coat and Victor immediately draped his jacket around her shoulders.
“You’ll get cold,” she protested.
“I run warm.” A slight smile. “Hyde’s metabolism.”
They drove to her cabin in comfortable silence. He kept glancing at her, obviously monitoring her condition, but she found it oddly soothing—the weight of his attention, the knowledge that he was watching for any sign of distress.
This is what it would be like, she thought.If we were together. Really together. He’d take care of me like this all the time.
The thought made her chest ache with longing.
He parked and came around to help her out of the car before she could protest. He carried her bag and materials in one hand, helping her up the porch steps with the other. As soon as they were inside, he went straight to the kitchen and filled a glass with water.
“Drink.”
She accepted the glass and drank obediently. The water was cold and clean, and she realized she was thirsty. She had been all afternoon.
“All of it,” he said when she started to lower the glass halfway through.
She finished it and set down the empty glass. “Happy?”
“Getting there.” He refilled it. “One more. Then you’re going to lie down while I make sure you have adequate supplies.”
“I have supplies?—”
“Humor me,” he said again.
She drank the second glass more slowly, watching him move through her small kitchen. He opened cabinets and the refrigerator, taking inventory with the same systematic approach he probably used for medical supplies.
“You need more protein,” he announced. “And your vegetable drawer is concerning.”
“I haven’t had a chance to shop?—”
“I’ll go tomorrow.” He closed the fridge. “And I’ll make you a list of what you should be eating at this stage.”
“Victor, you don’t have to?—”
