Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 70417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
I needed that laugh—I needed her.
I kissed her warm forehead. “Oh, Kitten.” I cupped her cheek. “I’ve been so worried.”
“Were you driving Sean mad?”
“Kinda.”
“Sorry.” She hesitated. “How long?”
I knew what she was asking. “Just a short time. He let me go so I could check on you.”
“Okay.”
“What do you need, baby?”
“You.”
“You have me. How about a bath, fresh sheets, and some soup?”
“That sounds good. Can you stay—for a little bit?”
“I can. A few hours anyway.”
Sean could cover for an extra hour. I didn’t care. Skylar was sick and she needed me. I’d give her as much time as I could.
He could take a swing at me when I got back. I’d let him.
Chapter 18
Cian
I tucked Skylar back into bed—fever-free, clean, and exhausted. I sat beside her, spooning soup into her mouth, taking the occasional mouthful myself.
“You’ll get sick, fuckwit.”
“Nah. I’m good. Immune system like bars of steel.” I stole another wonton, chewing and swallowing as she shook her head, rolling her eyes.
“Rusty bars,” she snorted.
I glared at her. “You accused me of infecting you, so how could I get sick?”
“Your body is used to your own cooties. They’ll get you soon enough.” She sniffed. “I didn’t stand a chance.”
I set down the soup and shifted so I was hovering over her. “My cooties too strong for you, Skylar?”
“Yes.”
I kissed the corner of her mouth, dragging my lips to her ear. “You don’t like my cooties?” I bit down gently on her earlobe. “My cooties like you—very much.”
She shivered. “I didn’t say that.”
I chuckled against her skin, cupping her cheek and kissing her tenderly. “I’m sorry you’ve been so sick.”
“I’m sorry I flushed my cell phone and made you worry.”
“Well, let’s face it. Once you puked on it, it was probably toast anyway.”
“I could have tried to fix it.”
Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, I started to laugh. Of course MacGyver would try to fix it. “It’s fine.” I kissed her again, brushing my lips over her forehead. “You won’t need it after tomorrow.”
“Why?”
I sat back down and lifted the bowl of soup, holding up the spoon. She shook her head.
“Why, Cian?”
“It’s all coming to a head, Kitten. Sean let me come see you so I would stop worrying and get my head in the game. Tomorrow—” I grabbed her hands, holding tight “—Frank is coming to get you and take you to where Julia is. I won’t see you until after this is over.”
“It’s just a couple of days,” she whispered. “Right?”
“It’ll be longer. I won’t be able to get to you until we deal with the aftermath is handled.”
“How long?”
I hesitated.
“How long, Cian?”
“It could be a few weeks.”
Her face fell, her shoulders hunching inward. “Oh.”
“You have to go, Skylar. I need to know you’re safe. If I’m distracted…”
She shook her head, squeezing my hands hard. “No, I understand. I’ll go. I don’t want you worrying about me.”
I smiled ruefully. “I’ll worry anyway, but not the same way.” I ran my knuckles over her cheek. “I’m always going to worry about you now, Kitten. I love you.”
“I love you.”
I reached for the bowl, but she shook her head. “I don’t want any more.”
“You need to eat.”
“I will. After you leave—I promise.” She moved over. “Can you just lie with me for a while? Hold me?”
I slid in beside her, pulling her into my arms. I could feel her body shaking, her grip tight. “Be brave for me, Kitten. Let me do what I have to, and I’ll come back to you.”
Her voice was small. “You promise?”
“Yes.” I lifted her chin, kissing her soft mouth. “You need someone to look after you. Who else is going to do it?”
She snorted. “I think you have that backward, fuckwit.”
I kissed her again.
She was right.
She slept, her hand still fisted on my shirt. My phone buzzed, and I checked the screen.
She OK?
I quickly replied.
Sick—but better. Cell phone toast.
Do I want to know?
It’s feeding the fishes.
How appropriate. Have you left?
Soon.
Now.
OK.
Leave her your phone. I have another. You can call her.
Thanks.
It’s chipped. I’ll make sure she’s OK.
Good.
You have to leave.
I know.
I looked down at Skylar, smiling when I saw she was awake and looking at me. Her eyes were clearer, although she still looked tired.
“You have to go?”
I nodded, brushing my lips over her forehead. “I’ll leave this cell. Keep it with you at all times, okay?”
“Will you let me know you’re okay?”
“Yes. I’ll call you when I can.”
I hesitated. “I saw some new art in the kitchen. I loved them, Skylar.”
She smiled, a soft color highlighting her pale cheeks. “Oh. They’re just little ideas.”
I brushed my fingers down her cheek. “Your ‘little ideas’ fill me with hope.”
“They do?”
“You’re painting our future.”
She looked shy, and I knew I was right. I’d been back in the kitchen to get her more juice as she dozed and seen them. A house by the water, a bike lying on the lawn by the front door. A picnic laid out on a blanket, figures playing ball in the background. They were done with a deft hand and made me smile. I knew what they meant. She believed in me. In us. That we would move on from this and live our lives together. The soft color pictures meant more to me than she knew.