Page 70 of All the Missing Pieces

Memories swept through my mind of Colt waking me up during the night and asking me simple questions like my name and birthday. “Better than I should,” I said honestly. My neck and side were tender, but my throat felt a million times better.

“Your voice is back to normal,” Colt said, his gaze roaming over me. And I had the sudden urge to right my hair, which I was sure looked like a rat’s nest. “How’s your head feel?”

I did a mental sweep. “Not bad. Low-grade headache.”

“You can take your pain meds after breakfast.”

“Bossy much?”

Colt just scowled at me. “You need to stay ahead of the pain, and if you take them on an empty stomach, you’ll probably barf them up.”

I threw back the covers and slowly sat, making sure my world didn’t spin. I felt like I’d taken a spill on my bike but not like I had a brain injury. That was good. I pushed to my feet. “I thinkI’ll be okay with Tylenol. And how about I make breakfast as a thank-you for letting Tater and me stay?”

That scowl only deepened to a glare. “You need to rest.”

“I need to move. If I don’t, my muscles will just lock up, and I’ll feel worse. Trust me, I know.”

Those deep-brown eyes flashed and then darkened to almost black. “You’ve been attacked before?” Colt growled.

Shit. Abort mission.

“No,” I hurried to say. “But I’ve fallen while mountain biking, been bucked off a surly horse, and taken a spill while white-water rafting. I know how to recover from mild to moderate injuries.”

A little of the rage in Colt’s expression eased, but not for long. “I wouldn’t exactly call being almost strangled to death mild or moderate.”

Memories flashed in my mind. The feel of the man’s hand around my throat, squeezing. Trying to fight him off with zero success.

“Shit,” Colt muttered, pushing to his feet. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean?—”

“It’s okay.” I took a few steps, relieved when the room still didn’t spin. “Let me brush my teeth, and then I’ll make breakfast. Do you have food in this place?”

Colt eyed me carefully. “The basics. You going to poison me?”

I laughed, ignoring the pain along my ribs. “I solemnly swear not to poison you, Law Man. Even if you sometimes deserve it.”

It was his turn to chuckle. “All right. I’m going to jump in the shower. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen.”

“Okay.” I waited while Colt strode out of the room, images of him in the shower dancing in my head. Images I had zero right to but couldn’t seem to control. Letting out a long breath, I moved to the bathroom and made quick work of washing my face andbrushing my teeth, trying to avoid glimpsing the angry bruises ringing my neck.

I couldn’t help but wonder who usually stayed in this guest room. Because it was, indeed, stocked. It had little travel bottles of face wash, lotion, toothpaste, and everything else you could dream up. I bet Colt had been a Boy Scout in his youth. Always prepared.

Looking for Tater, I found her scarfing down a bowl of dry food that Colt must’ve set up during the night. For not being the biggest fan of my cat, he was certainly taking good care of her. But I shouldn’t have been surprised. He was doing the same for me.

I slipped out the door and listened. The faint sounds of a shower came through the door next to mine. I swallowed hard as images of the man in that shower filled my mind. His tall, broad body filling the space. Water tracking over his defined chest and down to—nope, I wasn’t going there. I turned in the opposite direction, seeking out the kitchen. But the view kept stealing my focus. Every wall along the back of the house was dominated by windows, and as the sun glittered on the lake, I found myself getting lost in the art it created.

A large furry body pressed against my side, and I looked down, grinning. “Morning, Bowser.”

He simply gazed up at me adoringly.

I gave his head a scratch. “All right. Let’s go make some breakfast.”

I found the kitchen and began searching the cupboards, pantry, and fridge. Colt’s kitchen wasn’t what you’d callstocked, but there were enough things to put together a decent breakfast. I lost myself in the prep work. The chopping and sautéing, cleaning as I went. You got used to that sort of routine in the van.

It wasn’t long before I slid my creation into a preheated oven and poured myself a second cup of coffee.

“Smells amazing in here,” Colt said.

I turned and froze. I couldn’t help it. Colt rumpled from sleep was bad enough, but Colt freshly showered and shaved was devastating. The scruff wasn’t completely gone, thank goodness, just shorn back. But his hair looked almost black since it was still damp. And those brown eyes seemed to glow in the early morning light.

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