Page 65 of The Kings of Kearny

“Come on,” he said. “We need to shower.”

He helped me stand, and I hissed as my hip twinged. Goddamn, that stung. I’d strained a nerve sometime between orgasms number two and three. I felt it happen, a weird littletwangof pain that I knew from experience would get worse later, but in the heat of the moment, I’d barely noticed.

Jakob saw me wince, and before I could protest, he scooped me up and strode into his en suite bathroom. A massive claw-foot tub stood beneath a low bank of windows that looked out on the river. He set me down and turned on the faucet. I leaned against the double sink vanity as he dropped a big scoop of Epsom salt into the bath. The familiar, muscle-soothing scent of eucalyptus hit my nose a minute later.

His brow furrowed as he worked, jaw clenched like he was mad. With him, it was hard to read his emotions, what with the perpetual scowl he wore, but from the stiff line of his shoulders, I started to think he was actually angry.

A few minutes later, we sank down into the bath together, with him at my back, bracing me up. His hand fell to my hip, and he started massaging the sore joint.

“Why are you pissy?” I asked.

“Why didn’t you say something?” he countered.

I leaned my head against his chest and closed my eyes as his fingers went to work on my aching muscles. “About my leg?”

He rumbled his ascent.

“It didn’t hurt until the endorphins faded,” I said.

He made a low grunt that sounded like disbelief, and now it was my turn to be irritated.

“I’m not some delicate, wilting flower, Jakob,” I said. “I have a voice. If something hurts too much for us to continue, I’ll tell you.”

His fingers stilled on my skin, and his chest heaved as he took a deep breath. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

I melted a little. His voice was low, insistent, his tone filled with some emotion that had my mind spinning. It sounded like the words had deeper meaning, like he didn’t want me hurtever, physically or emotionally.

Before I could let myself read too much into it, I craned my head back and pulled his face down. “Then don’t,” I said, sealing my lips over his.

Chapter Sixteen

Gran wasn’t doing sogreat today. As predicted, waking up in a strange place surrounded by strange people had thrown her. After Jakob and I emerged from our little sex den, we all had brunch together out on the back patio, Molly moving from one person to the next beneath the table, willing us with wide, soulful eyes to slip her table scraps. A breeze blew in off the pasture, driving back the Jurassic-sized mosquitoes that plagued this part of Texas and keeping the worst of the heat at bay.

As we ate, Jakob and his parents answered Gran’s questions about who they were, while I fielded the ones about what we were doing here with them. From the nonchalant way the Larsons handled it, you would never know something was wrong, and I felt a weird mix of gratitude and sorrow that they’d already been through this with Jakob’s grandmother.

“Thank you for lunch,” I told Jennifer as we cleaned up afterward.

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