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Sylvie looked so fragile, curled up on her couch, her eyes closed. She sat up and stared at the tray when I put it down on the coffee table in front of her.
“Appetizers and cocoa. I’ve got some things for a real meal for dinner, but this should tide you over.”
“I thought I smelled chocolate.” She blushed a deep shade of red. “I mean, on the stove.”
My scent. It was strange. I sort of forgot about scents around her. It was a signal but not a substitute for knowing someone. I knew she was smart and funny and kind. And had no fear of taking command in the bedroom.
With that thought going through my mind, my cock thought it was time to play. I took a seat in a chair next to the couch and made myself think about spreadsheets for work. This was not about sex. I didn’t want her to think she owed us anything or to scare her off.
“Hope you like it. That’s the brand they use at one of my favorite coffee shops.”
She took a tentative sip, and her eyes closed in rapture. “Oh wow. That’s delicious.” Then she started in on the food, making appreciative noises as she ate.
I wanted to feed Sylvie every meal for the rest of her life. There was no way I could hold back my purr, so I didn’t even try. It was more of a vibration than a sound, but she raised an eyebrow. I gave her a shrug and a smile. She should know that helping her made me happy.
I’d been carrying a hardback book under my arm, and now I held it up.
“The latest in theNeon Planetseries.”
She squealed and then winced and rubbed her forehead. “You have it? I didn’t even know it was out yet.”
“Will it hurt your head if I read it to you?” Seeing her in pain was killing me.
“Not unless I yell,” she said quietly, a careful smile on her face. “Please, I’d love to know what happens after the ship gets boarded. That cliffhanger was terrible.”
We had talked about this series back when we all met at the café, and I’d immediately preordered it, planning to give it to her as a gift. Reading it to her now, with her head bandaged and bruised, wasn’t what I ever would have wished for. But in so many other ways, it felt right. I imagined spending all day holding her in my lap in our library at the house, reading to her while she sipped cocoa.
In my mind’s eye, she was stretched across me, a book propped in my hand that was resting on her thigh. I looked down at her in my arms and saw my mark on her neck. It was so vivid, I could feel a sense of our bond, of her pleasure at hearing me read to her. I returned to reality with a jolt when she cleared her throat.
“You disappeared there for a second.”
I blinked and stared at her, still a little lost in that moment. It seemed too real not to be the future. I had to rein in the urge to move next to her and hold her. It wasn’t the right time. Yet.
“Okay,” I said, opening to the first chapter. “Tell me if you need me to take a break.”
21
TOBY
No biting.
Had it been this difficult for the others? I was the one taking Sylvie to get her stitches out, and caring for her like this was putting a serious strain on my willpower. The need to mark her, bond with her, was riding me hard. And I was getting strong vibes that she would be receptive.
It seemed like having one of us over every day had worn down her defenses, made her more open to us. Just as we’d hoped.
She’d greeted me with a huge smile when I came by in the morning to relieve Luke. He pulled me aside and gave me instructions for her medication and doctor’s appointment, meal preferences, and the podcast they’d been listening to. Then he slapped me.
“Pay attention, bro. No bonding her. She’s not ready. You’re going to be tempted.”
“Fuck,” I hissed, rubbing my cheek. “That wasn’t necessary.”
He shook his head and grumbled something about needing a cold shower before he called out a good-bye to Sylvie and left.
Leaving me alone with the sexy, smiling woman with a head injury. Well, the guys had made her happy. That was good to see.
Her smile had faded by the time we sat next to each other in the waiting room at the doctor’s office. She was nervous. I reached for her hand, and she didn’t hesitate to take mine, squeezing with a death grip.
“Don’t like doctors?” I asked quietly, leaning close.
