Page 73 of Unexpected Heroine

We follow the same bedtime routine we have since he brought me home, with him staying within an arm's length while I clean up and get changed.

Before we leave the bathroom, he applies more burn ointment and changes the bandage on my upper arm. After ushering me to the bed, he grabs a container of what I affectionately think of as the wonder cream and wiggles it at me.

“Roll onto your side for me, sugar bear.”

Eagerly, I comply. This has become one of my favorite parts of the day. Despite the grizzly reminder of what I suffered, there’s something utterly magical about how this man takes care of me. I swear there’s no better feel than him caressing my body. Even the tender and sore bits.

He massages my calves before moving upward, rubbing the lotion in small, gentle circles.

“Your legs look a lot better,” he says in a hushed timbre.

When he gets to the backs of my thighs, my pulse spikes as I brace for the initial sting. Fortunately, the bite is much less intense tonight. Relief mingles with the comforting sensation of his loving touch as he swirls the cream into my tender flesh.

“You’re not flinching as much,” he states. “Is the pain improving?”

“Either that, or I’m just used to it.”

“I don’t think so. Like I said, it appears to be healing nicely.”

His tone always has hints of gravel whenever he speaks about my injuries. Shooting a quick glance over my shoulder, I catch him staring at the area where the welts are the worst. His jaw clicks under the strain of his forceful teeth grinding.

To stop him from devolving into another fit of blind fury, I turn over so he can’t see the backs of my legs. For a second, I consider flashing him my boobs to distract him. It’s what the old Lettie would do.

But I’m not the same woman anymore. Something tells me he’s not the same man. And that distinction has nothing to do with his name.

Speaking of which, my curiosity is getting to me, and my tongue is twitching. Sleep is gonna be hard to come by if I don’t get a tiny bit off my chest.

When he finally slips into bed, he attempts to spoon me from behind. I stop him by cautiously spinning around to face him, taking care not to aggravate my ribs. If I reveal my aches and pains, it’ll only wind him up further. And I meant what I said. Those bastards are not taking him from me.

I sling my arm over his waist, snuggling toward his chest. “Babe?”

He tucks one hand under his pillow, stroking my hair with the other. He loves playing with it, which is good since I love it too.

“Yes, sugar bear?”

Unprompted, my twang comes out in force thanks to the rising emotions. “As much as I’m itchin’ to rattle off a laundry list of questions and chew you up one side and down the other, I won’t do that tonight. Probably not tomorrow, either. But I gotta say somethin’. Then, I can stick a pin in it for a bit.”

He studies my expression briefly before tipping his chin, silently inviting me to continue.

“Before I get going, don’t forget I love you.”

He opens his mouth to speak, but I place my index finger over his lips to silence him. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he bites down softly on my fingertip, adding a growling sound.

There he is.

My bossy Dom who doesn’t take my crap for too long.

I continue, “While I’ve temporarily put the bigger discussion on hold about why you lied, that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”

He nods, his features sagging with regret.

My volume remains soft as I continue, “I’m mad as a wet hen at you for lyin’ about your name and holding back details about your job. To be honest, I’m not sure how long it’ll take me to get over it.”

“You have every right to be mad at me. I’m surprised and grateful you’re still here, letting me take care of you.” He swallows, and his voice grows to a faint wisp. “I know you’ll eventually be strong enough to leave me over what I’ve done. As much as I want to, I can’t keep you forever. I’ve always known I’d have to let you go. Until then, I’ll cherish every minute you give me.”

Once the words are out, his chest seems to cave in. He closes his eyes, but even with only the light of the nearby bathroom shining in, I see him holding back the tears.

Something about the torment woven into his tone triggers a recollection from a few months ago.

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