Her Forgotten Betrayal(40)

They’d left the lights on in the kitchen, which looked far cozier with sunlight dappling in through the windows. He settled Shaw into the chair nearest the fridge and hunkered down in front of her, gazing into her exhausted, pain-filled eyes. Dark smudges of sleeplessness marred the delicate skin beneath them.

“I’m going to get you some ice,” he said. “It’s going to sting at first, but it will cool your skin down and halt some of the damage from the burn. It’ll numb the pain after a few seconds. Okay?”

He could feel her wariness, the weight of everything crashing down on her and of the questions she needed to ask. She reached out her good hand to him, the one with the thumb he’d already bandaged, and brushed his face with her fingertips.

“You wouldn’t hurt me,” she said with a depth of certainty that humbled him.

His goal from the start had been to earn her trust. He’d succeeded in spades, far quicker than Dawson had thought possible. But where did that leave them now? He made himself stand and grab a mixing bowl from the cabinet beside the range. Filling it halfway with cool water, he set it on the table beside Shaw and carefully lifted her hand. She flinched but didn’t pull away as he lowered first her fingers, then immersed her entire hand in the healing liquid.

He left her biting her lip but keeping her injury covered, and turned to the fridge.

“That wasn’t so bad,” she said.

He snagged a nearby kitchen towel and opened the freezer, hating that he was about to blindside her relief to hell. He scooped up a handful of ice and plunked it into the center of the worn cotton that would protect her already damaged skin. Balancing it all on a raised thigh, he tied the opposing corners into knots and turned back to Shaw. Wariness had crept into her eyes.

He crouched, his gaze recapturing hers.

“Inhale and hold it for me,” he instructed.

When she bravely nodded, he wanted to kiss away her anxiety and take it into himself. The bitterness he’d held inside for so long was gone, he realized, leaving in its wake a renewed need to understand how things between them could have gone so terribly wrong. How had they lost the magic they’d once had together? A magic he found himself recklessly wondering if he now had a chance to win back.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice coming out shredded. At her nod, he slipped the bundle of ice into the bowl. “Inhale as deep as you can, and hold it.”

She did as he instructed. Her body tensed against the growing chill of the water, her gaze narrowing. He gripped her wrist when she would have pulled her hand away.

“Exhale, Shaw. Let the cold do the work. The pain won’t last, I promise.”

He knew how much it could hurt. He knew firsthand how burns far worse could flay your nerves to the bone while they were being debrided and treated with antibiotics and more. He’d been relieved to see that her injury likely wouldn’t blister, but it would hurt like the devil for a while.

A lone tear trickled a path down her cheek. He caught it with his thumb, kissing her cheek where it had fallen. He rested his forehead against hers, the way they had when they were kids too young to crave a more intimate expression of their obsession with each other.

“I’m so sorry,” he said while she exhaled, then inhaled again.

“It’s not so bad anymore.” Her words caught in her throat.

“Little warrior.” He pulled another chair over and sat. “Will you ever stop trying to pretend that what hurts you most isn’t so bad?”

Her eyes narrowed. “That’s what you said before.”

He hadn’t. He was certain of it. Not today, anyway.

“What are you remembering, Shaw?”

She sighed, then brushed the emotion from her face and sat back. Her features composed themselves into those of a corporate CEO taking his measure.

Cole waited. This was her show, including whether or not she still wanted him in her house. Dawson could send in someone else, if need be, to formally monitor her. Cole would simply resign his position at the Bureau, then as a civilian, case the estate like a stalker himself. Whatever she decided, he wasn’t leaving High Lake until he was certain she was safe.

She sighed again, seeming to realize he wasn’t going to take the first step. “I have some things I should have talked through with you before.”

“Shoot,” he replied, bracing himself.

“Why did you say we were friends?”

“I told you. We were at first.”

“But I still don’t understand why you made it sound like we were just friends.”

“It wasn’t the best time to bring up the rest, until you remembered more.”

“Like remembering when we were teenagers, making out in the office, when you found me waiting for my father, and I was terrified of what he’d say?”