Page 63 of Love on the Run

She tossed her phone onto the couch just as Beau ended the call.

“Food should be here in fifteen minutes.”

Anna stood slowly, and Beau was at her side in an instant.

“What are you doing?”

“I need to get out of these layers.” She reached her good hand up and touched her hair. “Gross. I just remembered I was laying on a public bathroom floor.”

Beau reached for the zipper on her outer coat. “Let me help you out of these coats. You can take a shower while we wait for the food.”

She winced quite a few times as Beau carefully removed layer after layer. The ones that went over her head were the worst, having to maneuver around her wrist and head.

When he’d helped her down to a tank top and thermal pants, she plopped onto the couch andstared at her useless hand. Showering was going to be a chore.

“I think I’ll wait until after we eat to shower.” Every last bit of her strength was zapped, and her stomach rumbled. It was well into the afternoon, and neither of them had eaten since their early breakfast.

Beau sat on the coffee table facing her, resting his elbows on his knees and pinning her with an intense stare. “Are you okay?”

She waved her good hand. “Of course. I’m fine now.”

But his expression didn’t change. His jaw was tight, and his gaze drifted slowly over her features.

“Are you okay?” she asked. He’d missed out on snowboarding—the only activity he’d been looking forward to on his trip—and instead, spent the entire day at the hospital with her. No doubt it was boring.

He looked down at his clasped hands and swallowed hard. “You scared me.”

Anna sat forward and placed her good hand on top of his. “I’m sorry. I know you came on this trip because Olivia wanted you to protect me, but this wasn’t something you could have prevented. It’s not your fault. Plus, I’m fine now.”

“You’re not fine. You’re hurt.”

Then it hit her. His confession when they’d played twenty questions.

He was afraid ofher. What did that mean?

Beau lifted his chin, and his gaze locked with hers. They were so close now—merely a breath apart.

Was he afraid because he cared? It was dangerous to hope, but it was impossible to ignore the way he’d tended to her. If love was something she could perceive and feel outside of her emotions, it was everything Beau had done for her since the moment he rescued her from a marriage that would have been a mistake.

His copper-brown eyes turned dark as his shoulders swelled with each breath. Lifting his hand, he brushed his fingertips over the bruise just above her temple.

All the air left the room. She couldn’t breathe—couldn’t think past the surge of hope hanging between them.

His fingers trailed into her hair as the pad of his thumb skimmed over the sensitive skin of her cheek. She leaned into his touch until he lifted his other hand, cradling her face and tilting her chin up to him.

At exactly the wrong moment, three knocks beat against the door.

But Beau didn’t move. Neither did she. How could she pull away when everything inside her said this was right? The one thing she was dying to say was stuck in the back of her throat.

I’m afraid of you too.

The knocks came again followed by a deep male voice. “Room service.”

Beau let out a huff and stood, letting his hands fall away as he moved to answer the door.

Beau, of all people. Why did Beau have to be the one to show her how broken all of her other relationships had been? It was obvious now. No other man had treated her the way Beau did. He encouraged her, answered her honestly, and shared parts of himself he didn’t share with anyone else. He was right beside her when she needed help and was the first to tell her that she could do anything she wanted. He believed in her when no other man had.

He made her want to be stronger.

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