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What was I thinking?
I sound desperate.
I’m asleep when we pull up to the estate. The driver wakes me up with a light tap on the shoulder. “Miss Lowell, we’re home.”
Looking past him, I see that the house is mostly in darkness. “Thank you,” I tell him, taking his hand when he offers it.
My body feels heavy, and I’m beyond tired as I trudge up the steps in my heels. I need to strip out of this dress and go to sleep immediately.
I push on the door and see the lamp in the hallway is switched on. My stomach unknots, and I walk further into the house.
Charlie must have left it on.
I slip off my shoes and check everything is off in the kitchen and main sitting room, and then I use my flashlight to run as fast as my tipsy self can carry me to the main landing.
I need to check on Dad, but the hallway is barely alight, with a small lamp at the other end of the corridor.
It’s gone two a.m., and I should just go to bed, but I won’t sleep unless I see for myself that he’s okay.
I’m halfway down the east wing when I see jean-covered legs spread out on the wooden floor. I pause on the spot, unsure if my eyes are deceiving me or if Lance Sullivan really is sitting outside of my dad’s bedroom door.
I swallow and move closer, reaching for the main light switch when I’m close enough, just to be sure it’s him.
Lance is asleep. His arms folded and his face as hard as always. His hair looks mussed, like he’s been running his hands through it.
I’m a little tied up right now. Get a lift home.
He came here to look after my dad?
I squat at his side, placing a hand on his arm. His black sweater is soft under my fingertips, and I yearn to be wrapped in the warm fabric.
“Lance,” I whisper.
He startles awake as I squeeze his arm, green eyes widening when he finally focuses on me. “Scarlet.” He looks at his watch, but not long enough to catch the time. He’s disorientated and jumpy. “Shit, I’m sorry. I fell asleep.”
“Hey,” I say, reaching out and smoothing his brow. He goes still under my touch. “It’s fine. Everything is fine.”
He blinks once. Twice. And then he relaxes, his hand reaching up and latching on to my own that’s twisted in his hair.
“Where’s Charlie?”
His brows lift, eyes flashing with amusement. “You don’t want to know.”
I frown and smile simultaneously.
“You stayed with my dad tonight?”
He nods. “Is that okay?”
“It’s more than okay, Lance.” It’s a Saturday night, and he already did the drive home after driving out yesterday. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to.”
I pull my bottom lip into my mouth. All I can think about is how it shouldn’t be this easy to stare into his eyes. The way his gaze holds. So demanding. Yet I can see a softness there too. And he lets me see it.
“Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me.”
