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“No, um. Would you sleep next to me?” I wring my hands, remembering the cut on my palm, and not caring at all.
“Of course.”
I take his hand and lead him to my bedroom. When I get under the covers in my robe, he doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he gets onto the covers and lets me keep them between us to spoon me. I take his arm and wrap it over my waist. Feels like where he belongs.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
I shake my head. “But if you want to?—"
“It was hell. Nothing compared to what you went through, of course, but for me, this was my version of hell. Not knowing, not being able to help … I never want to go through this again. I will do whatever it takes to avoid this happening again.” He pulls me tighter to him. “Whatever it takes, June, I will keep you safe.”
I’m not sure when I started crying, but when it streaks across my face sideways, I wipe my eyes. He presses a kiss to the back of my head, and that’s just not enough. As I roll to face him, he murmurs, “I’m so sorry, baby.”
But I kiss his cheek and cup the other one. “This wasn’t your fault.”
He blows out a breath. “I know. But it feels like it is.”
I smile at that and kiss his cheek again, before pulling his arms around me and burying my face against his shirt. Anderson holds me tight, and it’s just a few deep breaths of his scent, before I fall asleep in his arms.
-
Chapter 44
ANDERSON
Sleeping with June in my arms is damn near the best feeling in the world.
I cannot get over how good it feels to hold her. She doesn’t wake until eleven, but I’ve been up for hours. Too wired still, I guess. When she stirs in my arms, I lean back a little to give her room. She smiles up at me, and it’s like the sun is shining on my heart. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” she says sleepily. And then her stomach growls like a beast, and she giggles.
“Think you can eat this time?”
She nods, still smiling.
“I’ll be right back. You stay put.”
“Shouldn’t I be waiting on you? You’re a guest?—"
I laugh so suddenly that it takes the wind out of me a little. “June. You were kidnapped. Let me get you breakfast.”
“Well, when you put it that way …”
Shaking my head at that crazy woman, I jog to her kitchen and work on heating the breakfast we ignored earlier. When she was taken, I truly was in hell. But now that she’s here, I’m happy. Genuinely happy. Going from one extreme to the other is dizzying.
I deliver our breakfast in bed and sit near the end to give her space. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No. Not yet.”
I nod once, having expected that answer. It had surprised me that she wanted me in bed with her last night. I thought for certain she would change her mind or have some sort of trauma-induced panic attack and wake up screaming. But she didn’t. She’s stronger than I give her credit for, and I promise to myself to stop underestimating her.
Since I’d expected her to say no, I had come up with some unrelated questions to keep her occupied. “Do you think your upbringing affected your perspective on law?”
She laughs. “Is this your idea of a casual chat?”
“What’s wrong with my question?”
“Sounds like a job interview.”
