Page 127 of When Love Takes Root

She glanced over. “I can hear it.”

“I know.”

“Then why you turned it down?”

“Your shoulders dropped when it got quieter.”

Her eyes stayed on mine.

Then she looked away. “You notice too much.”

“I notice you.”

She took a breath that moved the blanket.

A few minutes later, she shifted closer. Not all the way. Just enough for her knee to brush my thigh. I kept my hands to myself. She shifted again during the next scene, close enough that her shoulder touched my arm.

Then she looked at me. “Can I lean on you?”

My chest tightened.

“You can do whatever helps you rest.”

Her head lowered to my shoulder slowly, like trust had to move one inch at a time. When her cheek settled against me, I let out a breath I’d been holding.

“You okay?”

She nodded. “I’m okay.”

I drew the blanket higher over her legs. “You cold?”

“No.”

“You comfortable?”

“Yes.”

“You sure?”

She turned her face slightly toward my chest. “Josiah.”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Watch the movie.”

I looked at the screen. “Yes, ma’am.”

Her hand found my forearm beneath the blanket a few minutes later. Her fingers traced the ink near my wrist, slow and gentle.

She asked, “Do they mean something?”

“The tattoos?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Most of them.”

“Will you tell me one?”