Page 87 of Resist

Ainsley nodded, still hanging on, jerking slightly when she realized how long she’d been clinging to his mom.

Mom—God bless her—just tightened her grip. “Take as long as you need.”

Ainsley sighed, then did just that.

Coulton couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried, but damn if watching Ainsley, who’d never known a mother’s love, hold on to his, didn’t have his eyes growing a bit misty. A quick glance at Dad revealed his father was equally affected.

“Thanks,” Ainsley said, when they parted.

Mom patted her cheek affectionately. “Have you eaten?”

Ainsley shook her head. “I, um, I had some toast yesterday morning.”

Mom’s love language was food, food, and dessert, so Ainsley’s response set her in motion. “Then you’re just in time. I need fifteen, twenty minutes to finish cooking and get the meal on the table.”

Ainsley started to shake her head. “No, I don’t want to crash your Thanksgiving dinner.”

“Ainsley,” Coulton said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “I invited you. Several times. Remember? Besides…” He gave her a wink. “I’m calling the shots tonight.”

Ainsley narrowed her eyes. “You’re going to make me regret agreeing to that, aren’t you?” Her teasing tone gave him hope that she was going to bounce back just fine. He hadn’t liked the utter desolation on her face when he’d arrived at Mick’s.

“Oh yeah. Tell you what? Why don’t you grab a quick shower, and I’ll find you something of mine to wear.”

Mom snorted. “I can’t imagine you own anything that won’t swallow her, Coulton. Chase, go grab the green pajamas out of my suitcase.”

Dad was en route, even as Ainsley was trying to refuse the offer. “Oh, that’s okay.”

Mom talked over her. “I’m here four days and I packed three pairs. I am the queen of overpacking.”

Dad must have hustled, because he agreed with Mom’s statement as he returned and handed Ainsley the pajamas. “She’s not lying. She brought six pairs of shoes.”

Mom lightly slapped Dad on the shoulder. “I told you. I wasn’t sure what the weather would be, and I wanted options.”

“Options,” Dad muttered good-naturedly, as the two of them headed back to the kitchen.

Mom scoffed. “This coming from the man who’ll have to do laundry while he’s here because he doesn’t have enough boxers or T-shirts.”

Coulton could hear them play-fighting all the way to the kitchen. He grinned at Ainsley as he gestured in the direction they’d gone. “So…that’s my parents.”

Ainsley giggled. “I love them. They’re so nice.”

Her words meant the world to him. “Come on. Quick shower, big dinner, and then straight to bed. You could do with about twenty-four hours of sleep.”

She allowed him to lead her back to his bedroom. “Maybe I shouldn’t stay, since?—”

“You’re staying,” he said, in a tone that let her know they weren’t continuing that discussion.

He followed her into the bathroom, turned on the shower to let the water heat, then he started undressing her. It spoke to Ainsley’s level of exhaustion that she didn’t fight him, but instead, just let him pull her shirt over her head, strip her bra, then tug off her shoes, jeans, and panties.

There was nothing sexual about his actions, because that wasn’t what she needed. Guiding her into the shower, he watched as she stood under the steaming water, her head bowed, her body almost limp. She was running on fumes.

So Coulton stripped off his own clothing, climbing into the shower with her.

“Coulton,” she whispered.

“Let me take care of you.” He shifted them so that he could wet her hair, then he reached for his shampoo. Gently massaging a lather into her hair, he relished the way she placed her hands on his chest and closed her eyes, completely giving herself over to him. He rinsed the shampoo, then repeated the process with the conditioner. Grabbing a washcloth, he squirted shower gel on it, slowly drawing it over her body.

Ainsley swayed slightly, too tired to stand, so he kept his ministrations quick and efficient. Once she was clean, he turned off the water, wrapping her in one of his big bath towels, drying her. He put the lid down on the toilet, perching her there as he dried himself. After that, he brushed her wet hair, then the two of them moved to his bedroom, where he dressed her in Mom’s pajamas before pulling on lounge pants and a T-shirt. He opted for more casual clothes so Ainsley wouldn’t feel self-conscious eating dinner with his parents in just pajamas.

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