Page 7 of Tattered Souls
I watched her as Harlee led her to the kitchen.
And when she was out of my sight, fuck, but the headache I thought had vanished a little earlier came back with a raging force.
I pressed my fingertips to my temple; the noise in here wasn’t helping.
That was why I headed outside to the back covered porch.
Fucking peace. And fucking quiet.
I sighed as I looked out over the backyard.
I wasn’t sure how long I had been out there.
Five minutes?
Ten minutes max.
When I heard a woman’s voice ask, “Umm, are you okay?”
Would it be stalkerish if I asked her to talk to me for the rest of the night?
Not only was she beautiful, but she had a voice to match.
Soft and lilting.
Fucking killer combination.
I looked over my shoulder at Tatum and felt it, not for the first time that night, that something in my chest cracked open.
“Headache. Been a long day,” I told her.
She nodded, then tilted her head, and I watched as those mesmerizing sable eyes of hers flared.
Felt as though I could stare into them all day and never get tired of them.
Before I knew it, she was digging in a bag she had at her hip, and then she pulled out a little blue case.
Seeing it as she opened it, I saw a few tabs that read things like Tylenol, Midol, Benadryl, Zantac... that was fucking cool.
She popped the Tylenol tab, shook two out, and then handed them to me.
As I opened my hand for her to place them in it, I felt the tips of her fingers brush over my palm, that small encounter... she didn’t know it.
Didn’t know that knowing I was hurting and wanting to fix it.
Didn’t know that I had hung on every word she had said earlier.
Didn’t know that she was the most gorgeous being I’d ever seen in my life.
Prettier than my 1967 Dodge Charger.
Prettier than my 1943 Harley-Davidson Model F Knucklehead, I found, built up, and restored to her former glory.
She didn’t know that she managed what no one had managed to do.
She slid in deep, right under my skin.
Yeah, I recognized it right then and there. I’d metthe one.
