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I chuckle and brush his brown hair off his forehead. “I don’t know about you, but I’ll need some food before I can do anything else. I’m starving.”
“Now that you mention it,” he says as he kisses my hand, “I could eat.”
“Can I ask a question before I go cook you a meal?”
“You can ask me anything, anytime, babe.”
“Do you eat gluten? Because I’m in a serious relationship with bread, and this could be a deal-breaker.”
His sober eyes fill with humor as he leans over and kisses me, long and soft. “If you cook it, I’ll eat it. Even gluten.”
“Okay, then.” I brush my nose over his. “This might work out after all.”
I roll away, then tug on some fresh underwear and a clean pair of yoga pants and a T-shirt as Wolfe watches, then run off to the bathroom.
“I’m making chicken soup with homemade bread. Does that work?” I call out.
“Hell, yes, that works. How can I help?”
I step out after cleaning myself up and grin at him. He’s so sexy with tousled dark hair and that satisfied grin on his impossibly handosme face.
“You can keep me company in the kitchen.”
“That, I can do.”
I leave the bedroom as Wolfe climbs out of bed and pulls on his clothes. I’ve just started washing the chicken as he joins me.
“I would normally roast a whole chicken for this, but all I have is chicken breasts. It’ll be faster this way.”
“I can chop stuff or knead or stir. Just give me direction, and I’m your man.”
“Okay, I’ll take you up on that.”
Over the next hour, we enjoy being in the kitchen. He’s messier than I prefer, but we have fun cooking together. And when the bread’s in the oven, and the soup is simmering on the stove, Wolfe sits in a chair and tugs me onto his lap.
“While that finishes up, I have another question,” I say and lay my head on his shoulder.
“Shoot.”
“What happened out there today?”
He sighs and kisses my head, breathing me in. “I went for a walk after we finished up at Sarah’s. It’s good exercise for my leg, and it was a nice day. I always climb down the rocks to the beach.”
“My parents would have killed you for that when you were a kid.”
“Mm.” His hand drifts up and down my arm. “I’ve done it dozens of times since the accident. But today, the headache hit when I was on my way back up and at the base of the cliff.”
“Out of the blue?” I guess.
“Always. They come on hard and fast, and I can never anticipate them. I was just trying to get to the top so I could get home and fall into bed. But I couldn’t see.”
I take his hand and link my fingers with his.
“That’s the worst part. It’s like I’m suddenly in a black tunnel. I know the water was loud around me, but I couldn’t really hear it.”
“I yelled and yelled for you.”
“I’m sorry.” He kisses my forehead. “I didn’t know you were there until you touched me, and even that about pushed me out of my skin. I wouldn’t wish that kind of pain on my worst enemy. Thank God you came for me. I was stuck there on the rocks.”
“Do me a favor?”
“I know what you’re going to say.”
His voice is hard, and I sigh.
“I know it sucks, but please don’t do that without at least letting me know you’re going. I’m not going to treat you like a child and demand that you don’t go or say that you can’t go alone, but just let me or someone know. Please?”
“Okay. I can do that.”
“Thank you. You’ve become important to me, Wolfe. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.”
“Hey, nothing’s going to happen.” He holds me close, and we’re quiet for a long moment until the timer on the oven goes off.
“Let’s eat,” I suggest and kiss his cheek before climbing off his lap.
“It smells good,” he says as he follows me to the kitchen. “But, you know, we might have to work the bread off later.”
“With cardio?”
That cocky smile of his spreads over his face again. “The best cardio there is, sweetheart.”
November 2, 2015
* * *
Dear Diary,
Why are small towns so…awful? Full of gossip and always keeping an eye on what everyone is up to. Hell, Sarah’s been gone for more than eight years and people still talk about her. It makes me want to pull my damn hair out.
If you don’t know what just about everyone in town is doing, just stand in one place for five minutes and you’ll hear all the gossip in no time!
People need to mind their own damn business. Like, WHO FREAKING CARES who Wolfe Conrad is seeing now? All of HB is so interested in watching his races, not to support him and see him succeed but just to see who he has on his arm at the end of the race.
