Page 132 of Tactically Acquired

Sometime between our banter and my need to kiss her, she passed out on my shoulder. And along with that cute, exhausted sigh came the long snore I knew all too well. Chuckling, I lowered her to the bed, fighting off her hands as they flailed at me, trying to push me away as she grumbled about leaving her alone.

When I finally had her tucked in, I headed out, closing the door behind me. Spencer was leaning against the doorframe of the room he was staying in and his face was pinched in worry. As soon as he heard me, his gaze shot up to meet mine and he pushed away from the frame to rush over to me.

“Is she okay?”

“She’s fine. She’s sleeping.”

The deep worry lines bracketing his eyes became more apparent, and now I realized it wasn’t just because of the situation we were in, but because of his concern for her.

“How bad is it?” I asked, hoping he understood what I was asking.

Sighing, he shoved his hand through his hair. “I think she’s finally coming around to the fact that she needs to start taking this more seriously.”

“In what way?”

“She should have been getting comfortable using the walking stick and learning how to move around. Hell, I should have pushed for that.”

“You were already shouldering so much,” I said, trying to ease his guilt. “It wasn’t your job to take it all on.”

“No?” he asked, shaking his head slightly like he didn’t believe it. “Who else would be there for her? Ginger is a piece of work. Yesterday was the first time Audrey’s seen her in ten years. Her father is nonexistent, and she has no siblings. I’m the only family she has. I should have pushed her instead of letting her do whatever the hell she wanted.”

“There’s still time,” I reassured him. “She said she can still see partially out of her right eye.”

“Her sight won’t completely deteriorate,” he sighed. “I just fucking hate this for her. When she burned her hand…that’s the kind of stuff I really fucking worry about. And now she wants me to leave.” He scoffed at the idea. “Who would look after her?”

A sharp pain lodged in the center of my chest at the thought of her being all alone. I understood completely what he was talking about. She was desperate for him to move on, but if he did that, who would look out for her? I couldn’t leave my job to be with her all the time, and even if I flew out to see her, would it be enough?

“She could move in with me,” I said without really thinking about it.

“What?” his eyes snapped to mine and his brows shot up in surprise. “Do you have any idea what you’re saying?”

“Yeah,” I chuckled. “It just slipped out. But it didn’t feel wrong.”

“You actually like her that much?”

His tone wasn’t disbelieving. He was concerned that I wasn’t being honest with myself, and I could respect that. After all, she meant everything to him.

“Like is in the rearview mirror, Spencer. My head is all over the place. I need to be by her, but I can’t protect her like this. Not when I’m so fucking worried about her.”

“She wouldn’t want to hear that.”

“Not because of her condition,” I clarified. Fuck it, I might as well tell him. “I love her, and that fucks with my head. As much as I want to be the one to protect her, I know I can’t think clearly around her. All I can think about is if I’m doing everything I can for her. My confidence in what I’m doing is shot because if I fuck up one thing, I know I could lose her, and that’s a fucking terrible way to protect a client.”

He nodded, finally understanding what I was saying.

“I have to get downstairs and find out where we stand. Look after her for me.”

“Like I’d be anywhere else,” he smirked.

I clapped him on the shoulder and headed downstairs. Rae was in the kitchen with Thumper, but everyone else had scattered. I walked right over to the fridge, thanking my lucky stars there was bottled water. We didn’t have much else, but considering we didn’t have anywhere else to go when we left the hospital, we were in pretty good shape.

“Do we have anything yet?” I asked, looking over Rae’s shoulder.

Spreadsheets and browsers and all sorts of windows were open. I didn’t know how she kept it all straight, but somehow, she did. Her fingers flew over the keys effortlessly, making the rest of us look like toddlers playing on the computer for the first time.

Though, they probably could do more than me.

“I’m running his accounts now. He’s a slimy fucker. Lots of offshore accounts. His accountant is good, but not that good,” she grinned.

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