Page 39 of Unexpected Heroine

I love how he cares for me. “Thank you.”

Playfully, he mimes adding another tick onto his invisible Lettie’s Thank You tally sheet. He’s long since given up on tracking it on his phone. He does it in the air by flicking his pointer finger and making a clicking sound. My inner brat enjoys doing it just to mess with him.

As the humid summer air wafts through the open door, I put on a brave face to welcome Freya, despite the frantic racing of my heart and sweaty pits.

Once she’s in the foyer, she opens her arms and lifts her shoulders toward her ears. It’s an odd gesture for her since she’s normally so confident and assertive. Despite being a sub, she has dominant tendencies. Especially around me. Probably since she sees me like a little sister.

Eager for her hug, I take a step away from James. Then another.

And one more.

Then I let go of his hand.

I can’t quite explain it, but there’s something symbolic about leaving the safety of his presence. And I recognize it’s only possible since another pair of comforting arms waits for me.

Closing the distance between us, I accept her embrace.

Tears pool in my eyes as her familiar scent engulfs me. I flipping knew I would cry. Dang it. Judging by her sniffles and the tremble in her chest, she’s crying too.

At least neither of us has to cry alone.

I don’t know how long we stay like that, wordlessly hugging in the foyer. All the while, I feel James’s calming presence behind me. He never wavers.

By the time I’ve soaked her shirt with my tears, we break the hug. She takes a visual sweep of the bruises and cuts on my face, and her expression crimps.

Mouth rounded, she sucks in a tiny gasp. “Holy shit, Lettie. What the fuck did those monsters do to you?”

Everything.

But I can’t say that.

“It looks worse than it feels,” I fib.

Her expression changes from shock to sadness, her lips turning downward and her brows pinching. “You don’t have to do that, Lettie.”

“Do what?”

“Minimize it.”

Drats. She’s already onto me.

Seriously glad she didn’t see me a few days ago when it was much worse.

Standing behind me, James kisses the top of my head and places his hands on my shoulder. “Freya, can I get you something to drink?”

Freya perks up, shoulders shimmying. “I brought sweet tea.” Without waiting for a response, she takes three steps back to the front porch and grabs my duffel bag off the floor, along with a pitcher of yummy goodness.

My lips spread in a beaming grin that’s more real than fake.

Having lived with me for just shy of a year, she’s perfected my sweet tea recipe.

Not that it’s hard. It’s just five simple steps. Brew the tea. Add heaps of sugar. Stir. Taste. Add more sugar.

Follow me for more life-changing recipes.

After leading us into the kitchen, James pulls out a chair for me. “Are you having tea, sugar bear?”

You know how they say there are no dumb questions?

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