“You should have the option to leave your field safely at night if you need to,” he responded gently.
I tilted my chin to look at him, finding his deep brown eyes gazing down. They were practically black… or maybe his pupils were dilated in the low light. It felt so intense, knelt between his open thighs and pinned by his stare. Heat filled my core, but I tried to focus on what was important.
Maintaining our gaze, I pressed our palms together. I swear I could feel his pulse racing against my fingertips, but that might’ve just been my own heartbeat. When the tingling of healing died down, I peeled our hands apart to take a look. The wound was mostly gone, sparing a thick pink line and leftover stitches.
“Sorry, I’ll see if I can remove the scar too. Before it becomes permanent.” I moved to reconnect our palms.
“Don’t.” He lifted his hand to his mouth and ripped out the suture thread using his teeth. “I’d like to keep this one.”
My lips parted to ask why, but I felt like it wasn’t something for me to pry about. That’s at least what I told myself,as his near-black eyes gazed at me in a way nobody had before. Why did he look at me so… so…I don’t even know.
He cleared his throat. “Get up on the bed, I want to talk to you about something.” His eyes blinked and suddenly looked brown again.
I got up as carefully as I could to avoid flashing my companion. Myfriend. These weredefinitelyfriendship feelings I was having. In my heart. In my stomach.Lower.
I wasn’t hungry forblackberriesanymore.
He shuffled to the other half of the bed to make room for me, leaning on his side with two elbows supporting his upper body in a recline.
I instinctively crossed my legs before realizing how indecent that was given my lack of underwear. My fists balled between my thighs, pushing the cotton shirt down to cover my otherwise exposed bits.
His eyes seemed dark again before he blinked… then they were their usual walnut brown. Was I going crazy?
He cleared his throat. “Ida… she likes Drifael? And she’s been struggling with her cabin?” The statements were said as questions, as if we hadn’t discussed those very things multiple times today.
“She’d never admit to the second part,” I paused and considered my next words. “I think she’d like more community and agency.” I’d asked around about accessibility aids today and was told I’d need to travel a few towns over for them. I was already contemplating how to make that trip work.
“I met with a landlord today. He has a duplex unit available—single floor. It’s not fancy, but it’s in way better shapethan her cabin. If you think she’d like living in town, and wouldn’t be offended by the offer, I’d like to pay for it.”
My jaw must’ve been gaping. Who the fuck was this man?!
He shows up out of nowhere and offers to build me a homestead. That was weird enough, but at least somewhat explainable by a sense of owing me his life—as he kept reminding me whenever I was weird about a favor. Then, he buys a bunch of stuff for me and Ida. He said he had money, and I wasn’t about to let my pride get in the way of my quality of life. Butthis?! This wasn’t a summer of commitment. This wasn’t a day of splurging. This was a long-term significant expense to house a woman he metonce.
“Why?” My throat was tight.
“I’d like to help.”
“Why?” I leaned forward while still holding my shirt down, my back hunching. I locked my eyes with his. “And don’t say it’s because you owe me your life.”
He looked away from my stare and scratched at his new scar. “What can I say? I’m devout. This is a way to help a goddess.”
An unbelieving smile cracked my features as I leaned back. “I’m no goddess. Why do you really want to help us?”
He sat up and shifted forward upon my retreat, closing the space between us. He was on his knees now, towering over me by a good two feet. My neck had to crane to meet his gaze. A seriousness had overtaken his expression.
“Do you want my help? Yes or no?”
I was overwhelmed by his generosity. I was suspicious of his intentions. I was annoyed he was so physically intimidatinglike this, making my voice choke into a silent squeak in my throat instead of pressing for more context. I was horrified when I realized that I…liked it. The nurturing. The dependability. The resolve. All wrapped up within the sexiest packaging I’d ever seen and thrown into bed with me.
I fought the urge to lean my hips into my wrists. Those hidden parts suddenly felt sensitive, warm, and damp.
Theo swallowed thickly. “Is that a yes? I can close the deal in the morning.” His voice growled, tongue dabbing at the corner of his lips. It was no longer just his eyes that seemed to blacken, his tattoos looked less like ink and more like empty voids carved into his skin.
“What if Ida doesn’t want to move?”
It felt so fucking wrong to be feeling this way during this conversation, but my body didn’t give a shitwhatmy brain was focusing on. They were on two entirely different pages.
My hands were no longer listening to my brain. They shifted from their very important job of holding the white fabric in place over my lap. I rested my wrists over my kneecaps, knowing full well I was somewhat exposed like this. An invitation? I didn’t know. I was moving on instinct alone.
