“Little spy.”
She heard him, but the sound was muted, as if underwater.
“Glennon.”
His voice sharpened, causing her head to snap up, her vision to clear, and the film over his voice to disappear.
“There you are.” He extended his hand closer to her.
The next thing she knew, her hand was in his.
“You’re okay,” he assured her. “This. Between us. You’re not imagining it, and it’s not just you. Denying it is impossible. It’s okay to want this. We do need to talk about it, but I promise, I’ve got you.”
Words refused to come out of her mouth.
“C’mon.” He picked up her spoon from the table and traded it for his hand, although he did clasp her fingers around it and held on, as if afraid she’d drop it. “Eat. Breathe. You’ve got this.”
After a choppy nod, she forced herself through the motions of finishing the bowl of soup and one of the empanadas, but she barely tasted it.
Together, they cleared the dishes after they were done, rinsing them off in the sink, and Triumph placed them on the tray outside the door.
She stood awkwardly in the center of the room, unsure of what happened next.
He met her where she stood, his hands reaching up to run through her hair on either side of her head, lightly rubbing at her scalp. “You want to take a shower? Water pressure sucks, but it gets pretty hot, and it might make you feel better.”
She stared.
“Alone,” he emphasized. “This time.”
A combination of regret and relief flooded her. While the vision of naked, wet Triumph under the spray from the showerhead, with her licking up the droplets as they rolled downhis body, was raising her heart rate, it probably wasn’t the first thing they should do together.
“Sounds like heaven. I feel like I have about eight inches of dirt on me. Can I get my stitches wet though?”
“Demon said it was fine as long as you didn’t scrub the area. Just let the water run over them. He gave me some antiseptic wipes we can use to gently clean the area when you’re done. I need to take a good look at the area anyway, just to be safe, but I’ll do that after you feel human again.”
He scooped her up into his arms and carried her into the bathroom. When he set her on her feet, she saw there was clothing already lying over the edge of the pedestal sink.
“The owner’s wife is about your size. I figured you’d want something that fit a little better.”
“Thank you,” she said softly.
A glance at the freestanding bathtub and the shower curtain that encircled it made her nervous. While she was feeling better each day, yet sore from all the jostling around in the truck, she was still weak, and she knew it. Standing in the shower gave her pause. What if she got dizzy and fell? It would be difficult to climb over the side. What if she fell and ripped the stitches open? If she could take a bath, she wouldn’t be so worried, but soaking her stitches wasn’t allowed.
Triumph must have seen the worry start to work its way through her thoughts. “Hey, just relax. Breathe. In and out,” he whispered. His hands framed her face, his gaze intently holding hers, as he exaggerated an inhale and exhale until she was breathing in time with him. “There you go,” he said with a smile. “Now. Important question for you.”
Oh good lord, what was he going to ask her? If she needed help undressing? If she needed help getting into the tub? If she needed help showering?
Words wouldn’t come out of her mouth, and jerkily, she nodded, letting him know he could ask.
“What happens when frogs park illegally?”
What the fuck? A gasp of a laugh broke through her lips, and calm washed over her. This was the man she knew and didn’t turn her inside out, but made her love being beside him just the same.
“I don’t know.”
“They get toad,” he replied.
Groaning, then laughing reluctantly, she felt comfort blanket her in the enclosed space.
