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“Tell me who called you names and humiliated you,” he demanded.
Drat. He wasn’t letting that go, huh? “Can I . . . can I tell you another time? I’m just . . . I’m a bit raw right now and everything is a lot and it’s . . . it’s not really important.”
“First, everything that affects you is important to me. Are they still in your life? A threat?”
“What? No. This was years ago. I’m fine.”
“Not fine. But you will be. Just tell me if I frighten you. I want your trust and I won’t get that if you’re scared of me.” He looked away, swallowing heavily. And she thought she’d seen a flash of vulnerability. “I don’t want you scared of me, Maeve. Never that.”
“Hey. Hey, look at me.” It almost felt like their roles had reversed. Reaching out, she grasped his chin, turning him to face her.
He scowled and she shied back. “You’re shaking and your hand is freezing. Why didn’t you tell me that you were cold?”
“Oh. I didn’t . . . I didn’t realize.” She wasn’t sure if she was shaking because of the cold, of if she was still reacting to everything that happened.
Don’t think about it.
“You have to tell me when you need something, girl,” he told her with a firm look. “I might not always notice. So you have to tell me.”
“I’ll try. I’m not always very good at asking others for things.”
“I’m not just someone. I’m your man. It’s my job and I have to do it well. But I’ll need your help, because I won’t always be able to figure out what’s wrong or what it is I need to do.”
She wondered why would his boss be his only family. Where were his actual family? Had they died? But then . . . those questions would lead to him asking her about her family. And while she intended to tell him eventually, she wasn’t ready to go into that right now. She was hanging onto her emotions by a worn thread.
“I’m not scared of you, Gray.”
He gave her a skeptical look. “Most people are.”
“Well, I think we know I’m not most people,” she shot back. She wasn’t letting him get away with talking shit about himself either. He still didn’t look convinced. But then, Gray wasn’t a man of words, was he? He liked to take action. So perhaps she had to show him that she wasn’t scared, that she trusted him. If anything, it was herself that she was afraid of. Her reactions. Driving him away.
That’s your mom talking.
Right. And she wasn’t letting her dictate Maeve’s life.
“No, you’re not.”
Okay, how did she do this? Let him in? Give him this part of herself and try to be vulnerable? Show him that she did need him.
“There’s something I need right now.”
“What is it?” He stood, glancing around as though something might jump out at him.
“Can you help me out of bed? I need to use the bathroom.”
“Of course. But you’re attached to monitors and oxygen. I’ll get you a bedpan instead.”
“I’m not peeing in a bedpan.” Holy. Crap.
He raised an eyebrow. “Really? Would you like me to find a diaper instead?”
“Gray!” She knew he was joking, but sheesh. “No.”
He tilted his head. “How young is your Little?”
Oh, he thought . . . wait. A diaper? Was that something she wanted to experiment with.
“I don’t know.” She twisted her fingers together.
