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“It is, and your sister’s place is a madhouse. She told me what time she’s serving dinner and insisted that we not show up until thirty minutes prior.”
“I feel bad that I’m not helping.”
Striker nodded. “Because preparing a Thanksgiving dinner for thirty people is just what the doctor ordered. Come on, let’s go inside.”
Striker came around to the other side of the car and helped her out. “What’s your pain level, baby?”
“Five?”
“Tell me the truth.”
“What makes you think I’m not?”
“The fact that you asked it as a question.”
“Okay. It’s a six.”
“Right.”
Striker opened the door to the room and flipped the switch for the fireplace. He’d made arrangements for the innkeeper to stock the room with fresh fruit, muffins, different types of cheese, two baguettes, and a pitcher of lemonade. The final item on the list was because Aine had told him she’d been craving it.
He pulled back the comforter and motioned for her to get into bed.
“All I’ve done is lie in bed,” she protested.
“Uh huh.”
She sat down and crossed her arms.
“Take off your clothes, Aine,” he said without turning around to look at her. When he could see her bring her sweater over her head out of the corner of his eye, he faced her, loving the grin on her face. Since she didn’t look as though she was struggling, he let her finish while he queued a movie on the television.
“You too,” she said when he approached the bed.
“Have you forgotten I make the rules?” He smiled when her eyes drifted closed and her cheeks turned pink.
“I haven’t forgotten anything.” Her voice was as thick with desire as his body felt.
“You heard the doctor, baby. He said that he’d let you know at your three-week checkup when you can resume ‘normal activities.’”
By the way Aine’s eyes drooped, he doubted she’d argue. As much as she thought she wanted more, what she really nee
ded was rest.
By the time Striker was stripped down to his boxer briefs, Aine was sound asleep. He crawled into bed next to her, drew her into his arms so her cheek rested near his heart, and ran his fingers through her hair. Just feeling her bare skin on his was enough for him. There was a time he couldn’t have fathomed ever having that pleasure again.
His vibrating phone on the bedside table jarred Striker awake.
“Hello?” he answered without bothering to see who was calling.
“Sounds like I woke you,” said Razor.
“Aine fell asleep,” he said, easing his arm from under her head and going into the bathroom to talk so he didn’t wake her. “I guess I did too. What’s up?”
“Ava asked me to tell you that we’ll bring dinner to you.”
“She isn’t going to like that.”
“Sometimes you have to give her what she needs over what she wants.”
