Page 61 of Back in the Saddle

I could deal with my girls having my back.

I couldn’t deal with anyone when I was like this.

I waited for her to call out.

She didn’t call out.

Getting a sinking feeling that it might not be Raye and instead it was someone who shouldn’t be in my place, my mind racing as to whether I’d locked the door when Luna left (I hadn’t), I was about to get up and grab my Taser when a shadow filled the doorway.

I’d know that shadow anywhere.

It was Eric.

I suddenly couldn’t breathe.

He didn’t say a word.

He just walked into my room, scooped me up out of bed like he did when he picked me up from the couch, but this time, he didn’t put me to my feet.

He got in my bed…

Yes!

He got in my bed!

Then he settled me in his lap, tucked my head under his chin, wrapped his arms around me, and they went tight.

Oh man.

This felt awesome. Way better than just hugging him, and that feltgreat.

“You didn’t have to come here,” I said huskily.

“Yeah, I did.”

I didn’t know what to say to that.

“You’re not crying,” he noted quietly.

“No,” I agreed, still huskily.

“You need to cry.”

“I’m not a crier.”

“I don’t have to tell you, you’re dealing with a lot,” he remarked.

“No, you don’t have to tell me that.”

“And it’s clear you have been for a long time.”

“Yep.”

“Babe, you need an outlet.”

Babe.

Did you call your adopted little sister “babe?”

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