Page 5 of Sudden Summer

She had a tough day—a really tough day if she was asking me to stay. “Of course, I can stay. You want to talk about it?”

“About your cuddles?” she deflected.

“Birdie…”

“No. I don’t want to talk about it. Because you’re going to get all growly and protective, and I’m sleepy and just want to forget about what happened.”

The temperature in the room dropped twenty degrees at her words. Something bad had happened. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

“I’ll tell you about it in the morning. Tonight, I just want to feel safe. I just want to know I’m safe. Please, Cowboy?”

“Alright. But in the morning, first thing, we’ll talk about what happened. Promise?”

“Promise.”

I slipped into bed behind her. This was nothing new; we cuddled from time to time. Usually after something upset one of us, but sometimes there was no reason for it at all, other than the need to be close to each other. No matter the reason, every time we ended up like that, it felt so fucking special. I was her safe place. And holding her tight, feeling her relax against me, just served as a reminder that she was mine, too.

My arm moved under her back, an attempt to get her to roll towards me. But as soon as I touched her side, Birdie gasped.

“What the fuck?” The words, drowning in concern, raced out of me. “You’re hurt! Who hurt you?”

“It’s nothing,” she whispered, rolling toward me to press her face into my chest.

“Chickadee, you’re crying. It doesn’t feel like nothing. Tell me what happened.”

“In the morning, remember? I just need…I just need some sleep. I promise this reaction isn’t because I’m hurt, I’m not. I’m sore, but good. I’m just really tired.”

“Am I going to see a bruise on your side in the morning?” I asked, letting my chin rest on the top of her head.

“Probably,” she mumbled, already sounding like she was slipping towards sleep. “Don’t be grumpy. Sleep.”

Like that was going to fucking happen. I needed to know how she got hurt. I needed to know if there was someone I needed to hurt in return.

A loud banging noise came from downstairs.

“Someone’s knocking on the door,” Birdie whispered.

“Probably just one of my brothers. They can fuck off until morning.”

“Beau. They wouldn’t just show up if it wasn’t something serious. Go check.”

“I don’t want to leave you⁠—”

“I’m fine.” She yawned before rolling away from me. “I’ll probably be asleep by the time you come back up here.”

I nodded, not that she could see. As gently as I could, I moved off the bed, mentally running through the list of curse words I was about to unleash on whichever dumb ass brother of mine had ruined this moment for me.

The shock of a lifetime came when I opened the door, and instead of being greeted with one of my brothers, a petite woman in a pantsuit greeted me. A woman with a baby.

“Uh, hello. Can I help you?”

The woman looked up from the baby in the car seat and smiled. “Are you Beau Lindsay Ford?”

Christ. Not the full government name. What the hell did this lady want?

“Jesus. Careful with that middle name, please. I haven’t advertised that since it got out in fourth grade, and I got the shit kicked out of me on the playground. But, yes. I am. Who are you?”

“My name is Annabell Slater. I’m with Child Protective Services. May I come inside?”