When It's Right(27)
Gillian let out an exhausted sigh and let her hands drop to her sides, her shoulders slumping. In her condition, it hadn’t taken much for them to wear her down.
“I can’t thank you enough for putting a roof over our heads and giving Justin a chance at a normal life. Luck has never been on my side, but I hope it shines on Justin, and one day he forgets he ever knew our father.
“I know you aren’t like him.” She looked Bud right in the eye when she said it. “I knew it when you looked absolutely insulted that I would even consider you’d hurt that poor horse. That, and the fact that the both of you make a point to get down to Justin’s level. You don’t tower over him and try to intimidate him with your size.”
“You don’t miss anything,” Blake said.
“I was trained from birth to watch people’s behavior. Knowing when someone might turn on you was essential. Ron had a lot of unsavory friends.”
She let that hang for a moment but didn’t offer anything more. Blake’s imagination conjured enough disturbing images and scenarios all on its own. He didn’t need her to spell it out for him.
She grabbed Justin’s old blanket from his bed and headed for her room. “I’ll see you in the morning.” She turned back to Dee. “Thank you for the flowers. For everything.”
Gillian disappeared into her room. Blake gave Dee and Bud a nod goodnight and followed after her. He had a feeling he’d follow her anywhere.
“Nothing sweeter than a sleeping child,” she said when he entered her room. She held one end of the blanket, flung the other end in the air, and let it settle over Justin.
He agreed. The boy’s soft face made him look completely at peace. Gillian looked wiped out. He tried to control the urge to wrap his arms around her and kiss her shoulder. Her dark gold hair shined in the moonlight coming from the windows.
“The little guy is out like a light,” he whispered.
“He’ll sleep until morning now. He got the bad out of his system.”
“What about you? Will you sleep in your condition?”
“I’ll be . . .”
“If you tell me you’ll be fine one more time, I’ll throttle you.” He regretted the impulsive words and expected her to retreat again. She didn’t.
“It’s hard to sleep with hardware on your leg and a cast on your arm. I’ll either sleep miserably or just be miserable. Better?” she asked with an insincere smile.
“I’m sorry I asked.”
“I thought you would be. Go to bed, Blake. Quit worrying about me.”
“I can’t seem to help myself.” He pulled the blankets back and waited for her to carefully get her leg into bed and turn over onto her stomach so she wouldn’t hurt her back. He covered her but never touched her. God, he wanted to.
“Thanks.” She wiggled and settled when she found a comfortable position. Which meant she wasn’t in agonizing pain. She closed her eyes and hoped he’d stop staring at her and go to bed. She didn’t want to be the center of attention anymore. She didn’t want him looking at her the way he did. Something odd came into his eyes sometimes and made her want to get closer and run away all at the same time.
She thought he brushed his fingertips over her hair, but it was soft, and gone before she could decide if he’d touched her at all. She opened her eyes but didn’t see him. The soft click of the French door gave him away as he left.
She wanted to call him back. The quiet night settled around her, along with the loneliness she carried with her always. She shifted, trying to get more comfortable, and attempted to forget about the tall, handsome man with an eight-pack of abs and a smile that could send her to her knees.
She didn’t need Blake, or anyone else.
A little voice inside called, You’re a liar.
Chapter 10
The sun rose over the snowcapped Three Peaks. Blake stepped out on his porch. He stared up at the brightening sky and sucked in a deep breath of cold, crisp air, hoping it would help wake him. He stuffed his hands in his coat pockets and pulled the leather jacket close to ward off the chill in the air. He went down the stairs and followed the path to the gravel road and across to the meadow, heading over to Dee and Bud’s place for coffee and breakfast. With a rush in his steps, he closed the distance between his house and Bud’s, anxious to see Gillian again.
After making sure Justin and Gillian were tucked into bed last night, he’d gone home and fallen into a deep sleep only a few hours ago. He tossed and turned, with dreams of Gillian filling his mind. A mix of images of her bruised and cut-up backside, and others of her healthy and whole, burning in his arms and tangling up the sheets. He woke up hard and aching. Not even a cold shower and his hand dampened the hot need running through his veins. He couldn’t remember a woman ever making him feel like this. The guilt poked at his gut. In her condition, he shouldn’t be thinking about her this way. No matter what, he shouldn’t be thinking about her this way. But being away from her tormented him with a tug and pull that he needed to answer. He didn’t get it, but the compulsion to give in to the connection outweighed his common sense.