Page 60 of Secrets Hidden In The Glass

Nate opened his eyes and squinted against the dim light pouring in through the windows when Callie’s whimpering woke him. He turned his head and rolled to his side, frowning when he realized she was shaking and covered with sweat. “Callie,” he said quietly, sliding his fingers down her slick arm. “Callie.”

Gasping, she sat up in a rush and blinked as she looked around.

“Whoa.” He sat up next to her, touching her shoulder. “Hey, there.”

Her breathing came too fast as she met his gaze, and the confusion cleared from her eyes. “Nate,” she sobbed out and clutched her arms around herself.

“Come here.” He wrapped her up in a hug, more than a little shaken himself. “Everything’s all right now.”

She clung to him, nodding, but she trembled anyway.

“Talk to me. Tell me about your dream.”

“I don’t—I can’t remember. I’m afraid, but now that I’m awake I don’t know why.”

“Okay.” He eased her back, brushing the damp hair away from her forehead. “You’re safe right here with me.”

She hugged him again.

He slid his hands up and down her sides in soothing strokes. “Does this happen a lot?”

She shook her head. “No, never. Just now and a few hours ago.”

He didn’t like the sound of that.

“I’m soaked,” she said as she sat back.

“How about a shower? I have fresh towels in the bathroom. You can clean up and I’ll make us some breakfast.”

She glanced at the bedside clock and sighed. “But it’s barely seven.”

He craved more sleep—at least a couple of hours—but that clearly wasn’t going to happen. “Which means it’s time to get up and watch the rest of the sunrise.”

She sighed again as she looked at him with regret in her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Nate.”

“I’m not. Go shower up, and I’ll make us some eggs.”

She nodded and crawled out of bed, heading for the bathroom.

He sat where he was and scrubbed his hands over his face as the water started running behind the closed door. Something was bothering Callie. Two dreams in less than eight hours, which, by her account, had never happened before. Hopefully it had nothing to do with the fact that she was waking up in his bed.

He got up, pulled on a pair of sweats, headed downstairs, and started a pot of coffee. He frowned as he remembered waking in the night to find her side of the bed cold and empty. At first he’d thought she’d left, but then he’d spotted her pile of clothes on the floor.

He walked to the office and stepped behind his desk, studying the fancy S surrounded by ornate swirls in her incredible drawing. “A locket,” he murmured and shrugged, then went back to make them some breakfast, imagining that he was going to have to get used to Callie’s all-hours creative streaks if he was going to be sleeping with a world-famous artist. He wanted her here as often as possible.

He opened the fridge, grabbed the carton of eggs, and smiled despite the fact that he was just as exhausted this morning as he had been yesterday—probably even more. But every moment of his night with Callie had been worth it. Everyone needed that kind of sleep deprivation in their life.