I frowned.
Who the hell was this woman?
The deep sigh and flutter of canine lips ending in a snore told me the dog was still a guest as well.
I hated to wake her, but getting to the toilet was an imperative.
I tried to slip out from under her, but even that light jostling speared pain up my leg. Immediately she sat up. “Are you okay?”
Her husky voice a balm I didn’t want to name. I stuffed it back down into the thick tar of anger. “Sorry, I need the facilities.”
She shoved her hair out of her face, leaving it in a wild tumble around her face. “Right. It’s been hours.” She got to her feet, swaying a little. “Whoa.”
I frowned. “You good?”
She waved me off. “Yeah, just worked early.” She yawned hugely. “I was going to go home, but you looked so cozy. I put the soup away and was just going to sit for a minute...” She shrugged then gently pulled the pillow out from under my foot. “Think we can get up?”
“We?”
“I doubt you’ll be doing it yourself.” She helped me get my feet under me. “Just hang on to me.”
“This is ridiculous.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t have a pair of crutches in my hip pocket so you’ve got me.”
The nice girl had a little bite.
She tucked herself under my arm again and that honey scent of her wrapped around me like her arms. Freaking hell, I neededher out of my house. Especially when I almost buried my nose into her silky fall of golden hair.
The sound of the dog’s nails tapping on the hardwood, followed by his nose on the back of my leg, prodded at the annoyance that was never far away from me.
Why did the both of them have to be here in my space?
Then the dog leaned on me as if to hold me up as well.
Once Phoebe and I started walking, he backed off a bit, but followed us the whole way across the living room and down the hall as if he could catch me. He was a sizable dog, but I was a big guy. There was a small half bath just off the front door, but I wasn’t entirely sure I could maneuver in there without banging into every damn thing.
“Bedroom,” I said under my breath.
“Need a break?”
“No.”
I did, but I needed to piss more than rest.
The box full of clothing scraps was still in the middle of the hall. A testament to my tantrum that landed me in this whole mess. Phoebe kicked it out of the way and we shambled along like drunks. She leaned me against the doorway.
“One second.” She stepped around the scatter of boxes and quickly stacked them under the window since there wasn’t much in the way of room. “Okay, here we go.”
I leaned on the dresser to take a little of my weight off her. She tucked herself against me since there was barely enough room for me, let alone the two of us. She’d shed her sweatshirt from earlier and wore a cropped T-shirt leaving a whole lot of golden skin showing.
I swallowed as her soft breast pressed into my chest.
And no bra.
Hell.
Put it away, Dutch.
