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I have to pry her off my arm and it takes a little work to do it without waking her, but eventually she sinks down with a sleepy sigh that tugs at my heartstrings.
Sweet girl.
Even if she can be a little hellraiser.
Soon, I turn off the lights, check her night-light, and leave her there cuddled up with Mr. Pickle. I almost want to bring the book with me now and ask Grant if he remembers writing our initials.
Instead, I leave it on the nightstand and tiptoe downstairs, my heart fast and my blood thick and my thoughts whirling.
I’m hoping I can talk to Grant.
Ask him to explain, to sort everything out, because once again his gentle actions don’t match the cruel words that exiled me from Redhaven.
When I step down into the living room, he’s unconscious.
Sprawled out on the sofa with his legs stretched out in front of him, his body slouched to one side and his head pillowed on the overstuffed arm.
Sound asleep, and yeah, he still does it.
He scowls in his sleep like he’s annoyed with his dreams, grouching at them the entire time they play in his head.
The more things change, they really do stay the same.
Including what I do now.
When we were kids and he’d spread out with his arms and legs all akimbo, I’d creep off the stairs and rearrange his covers so he was tucked in warmly.
He never knew.
Now, I move through the living room and pull the knit throw off the back of the sofa to drape over him. It barely covers his enormous bulk from ribs to thigh.
With a soft laugh, I slip upstairs, rummage around in the trunk at the foot of the bed, and find a couple nice big fleece blankets.
Back downstairs, I arrange the fleeces over Grant quietly, practically making a nest around him.
He doesn’t even bat an eyelash, sleeping deep and hard.
He looks so cozy and warm. So peaceful.
And I get cold so easily.
Oh, you know I shouldn’t.
But Iwant to.
And maybe tonight giving in to this fierce, beating wanting won’t make things worse than they already are.
Biting my lip, chest aching, I settle into the blankets with him, pulling myself against his side.
Against his heat.
Against his silent strength that was always an unbreakable rock when I was growing up, never mind the sharp words that became too much to bear.
There are no angry words now.
Only a warm, firm body enfolding me like a shield.
And him.
