Page 37

“I wanted something to greet you if I wasn’t here.” He dropped his index finger on the ‘G’ and moved it back to the pile.

My head spun, dizzy with something I couldn’t possibly name.

“Oh.”

He grinned, hair falling in his eyes. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” I said weakly.

His eyes roved down my frame, hovering on the giant sleep shirt and small pair of shorts hidden below it. A beat of awkwardness bloomed between us and I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

“How are you feeling?” He lingered on my legs for a beat longer than necessary then tore his gaze away. “Is your hand all right?”

My hand. Right. I unwrapped the bandage and revealed my palm to the light. The scrapes had clotted, scabs already forming at the base of my fingers.

“It’s fine. See?” I wiggled my fingers at him. “Already healing.”

He gripped my wrist, forefinger and thumb circling it with ease.

“You’ll let me clean it again, just in case.” His tone brokered no argument and I nodded dutifully. “Good.”

“You seem…more solid.” I turned my hand long enough to touch his sleeve. I felt the weight of him, the warmth, but I couldn’t feel the details. Not the ripples in his shirt, the dark hair dusting his arm. It still felt like there was a layer between us, a final curtain that needed to be pulled back.

He watched me carefully, mouth slightly parted. “I feel more solid. My energy is higher, being at home.”

“Do you think it will stay that way?”

“Hard to be sure.” He caught my hand like he’d done it a thousand times before. His knuckles were thick, lined with small scars. “At least we know what works if I start to fade. Or,” he added ruefully, “I suppose you could let me go if I turn into too much of a nuisance.”

Honestly, I couldn’t imagine anything less. Even like this, Kilmorran felt warmer. Brighter. More real to me. Wolfe brought it to life in every way.

“You? A nuisance?”

He huffed, lips lifting with the motion. “I was sure I was starting to be. Especially when you put the books in front of the door.”

My laugh was breathless, light. “How long did it take you to knock them over?”

Wolfe grimaced. “Longer than I’d like to admit.”

“You deserved it, trying to keep me out like that.”

He quirked a brow. “Exist as long as I have, Avery, and tell me you wouldn’t start slamming doors.”

“Fair enough.”

God, he was still holding my hand. I withdrew, folding my arms across my chest. In my haste to get down here, I hadn’t thought to put on a bra. Or brush my hair. Hell, I hadn’t even looked in the mirror.

“So, now what?” I asked.

His grin turned wolfish. “Now we talk. We get to know each other. We’ll be house mates for a while yet.”

My cheeks heated. “I guess so.”

He ran his tongue over his lower lip, eyes slipping once more to my bare legs and purple-painted toes.

“Breakfast first, I think,” he rumbled. “Maybe some clothes?”

I wanted to drop through the floor, burrow under a pile of blankets and pillows until I was fused into them.