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Chapter 14
Eli removed the shower chair and turned on the water and the room began filling with steam. Isa stood in the doorway of the bathroom, looking weary, her arms crossed over her waist.
“Soap and shampoo are in the shower, towel’s right here.” Eli rested his hand on the fluffy gray towel and watched her, worry eating a hole in his stomach. He wasn’t sure how to comfort her. “Do you want my help?”
“No.” She gave him a tired smile. “I won’t be long.”
He thumbed her chin and watched her a moment longer. He understood. Showering was personal. He never wanted help in here either. “I’ll be in bed. Join me when you’re done.”
She gave him a faint nod and he left her alone.
Outside the shut bathroom door, he hesitated, considering going back in there. As tempted as he was, in the end he gave her privacy.
He’d opened a book on his lap but hadn’t read a damn word of it. He thought about her instead. How frightened she must be, how he’d failed her—twice now, arguably more.
A short while later, she came into the bedroom, towel wrapped around her body, hair dripping.
Her chin wobbled, and then she started to cry. Eli was off the bed in an instant, peeling the damp towel from her body and hoisting her in his arms. He’d kept his prosthesis on for this very reason. He suspected she might need him to come for her.
He lowered onto the bed, a trembling Isa in his arms. Her dripping hair and leaking eyes made a puddle on his T-shirt.
He held her in his arms and wrapped her in his blanket.
They naturally moved from sitting to lying down, her snuggled deep in his bedding and him facing her, clothes still on, his eyes on hers.
She sniffled again and he swiped under her eyes with his thumb.
“I’m sorry, Sable.” It was the first words he’d spoken since before she stepped into the shower, and arguably his apology came late.
“Thank you for letting me stay.”
His heart squeezed. The last time they were in this bed, he’d been transfixed by his own grief and hadn’t given Isa the consideration she’d deserved.
Tonight, that changed.
“Thank you for coming back,” he told her, swiping her drying hair from her face.
“Am I back?” Her eyes, red and puffy, sought his. She was so beautiful it hurt.
“I sure as hell hope so.”
When her lips curved, he put a kiss on one corner of her mouth.
“Give me a second.” He disentangled himself from her to quickly pull off his clothes and set aside his prosthetic leg. Back in bed next to her, he maneuvered under the covers until she was in his arms once again. Her cool fingers touched his torso and he wrapped her tightly against him. In the dark, Eli took a vow.
If phantom pain attacked his missing limb, or if he suffered a numb arm, or if his back cramped to crippling capacity, he didn’t care.
In no way was he letting go of Isa until sunrise.
***
The bed bounced, a subtle shift, and Isa pulled in a breath through her nose. Sleep’s fingers tickled the edge of her mind, leaving her disoriented, but only for a second. A man cleared his throat behind her, which should’ve been out of place considering she usually woke alone, but there wasn’t a second of hesitation as to who it was.
Elijah Crane.
Eli, who’d come to her house to apologize.
Eli, who’d called the police after she was attacked.
