My sleep deprived brain is still trying to follow his line of thought but I open my door to him regardless.
I climb back into my side of the bed, waiting for Rafe. When he doesn’t join me, I plaster my annoyance on my face.
“Well, are you coming or not?”
“One second.” Rafe comes to my side of the bed instead.
“What are you –” I trail off as Rafe pulls the blankets tighter around me, neatly tucking them in on one side of me. He leans over and kisses me gently on the lips.
“Goodnight, Cal.”
I’m too stunned to respond. The bed sinks under Rafe’s weight as he climbs into the opposite side. He presses another kiss on the back of my head and throws an arm around my waist.
It isn’t until later when Rafe’s snoring has woken me up, that my brain is awake enough to process what happened and the gentleness of Rafe’sactions. It was the first time someone tucked me in and put me to sleep. Not even the many tutors or nannies I had did that for me when I was young.
I can see now why parents tuck their children in at night; it provides them with a sense of security and comfort and peace. And when I close my eyes again, shifting close into Rafe’s embrace, it’s the first time I feel as if I am at home.
Chapter 30
Callum
My eyes have been shooting daggers at Rafe’s back during the entire length of our journey.
I couldn’t see Elia’s lithe frame with him surrounding her on their horse, but every once in a while Rafe would glance back to make sure I was still watching, trying his damndest to make me mad.
It did, but not for the reasons he thought.
Rafe is trying to make me jealous, of either himself or of Elia, I’m not sure which. But it’s not jealousy of their closeness together that I have. It’s outrage at the fact that Rafe is willing to talk to Elia, a stranger to him, rather than talk to me.
The sun starts to set into the horizon, turning the sky a watercolor portrait of pink and purple hues.
“There’s a place we can stay for the night up ahead,” Rafe calls out.
No more than ten minutes later, Rafe is leading us to a dilapidated cabin off the road we were following. Shutters are hanging by loose screws on the windows and the front steps of the porch are rotted through.
“Is this your place, Rafe? Seems fitting for you,” I call out snarkily.
Rafe flips me off and dismounts his horse in one fluid motion, holding one hand out to help Elia down.
“It’s an old smuggler’s house. He died about ten years ago, so I’ve been told. People use it for a safe house or shelter now. There’s a barn a bit farther out back for the horses.”
Ginna tugs on Elia’s arm. “Elia and I will put the horses away. Maybe grab some firewood too, right Elia?” Ginna’s hard glare is obvious to everyone.
“Absolutely. I need to stretch my legs.” Elia shakes out one leg, followed by the other in an exaggerated motion.
I roll my eyes, and notice that Rafe is shaking his head slightly. They’re not fooling anyone.
Ginna and Elia grab the horses’ reins and head to the direction of the barn that Rafe points out, leaving Rafe and I alone for the first time in five years.
I cave first and head into the cabin, stepping over the rotted stairs. The door needs some strong pushing before giving way, but eventually I’m able to make it inside.
It’s larger than I thought it would be. The kitchen we’re in is simple, but surprisingly clean compared to the state of the cabin outside. A large fireplace sits next to the main door with a table seating four in the middle of the room. Wood countertops and cabinets line the remaining space.
I peer into the other rooms, noticing two bedrooms and a small bathroom. People must pass through here often, because everything is well maintained.
When I come back to the kitchen, Rafe is squatting by the fireplace, rearranging the stacked logs.
I reach towards my side pouch, loosening the lace closure. “I have flint here if you need it.”
