Page 124 of At First Smile
“If GB was with you, he’d have given that random stray dog the business,” JoJo teases, entering the house. Gillian follows her through the door.
“I’m glad he wasn’t. I wouldn’t want him hurt.” Pen scratches his brow with her uninjured hand.
Every time I think there’s no more room inside me for how much I love this woman, she does something like this and greater love seeps into lesser-known, unfilled crevices. She worries about everyone else.
“You look exhausted.” JoJo sighs. “Why don’t I help you change into something comfy while Rowan makes some food?Don’t want to take your antibiotics on an empty stomach,” JoJo says.
With a kiss on GB’s head, Pen stands. “Thanks, but I don’t need help.” Her tone is firm, but not unkind.
“Alright.”
A few minutes after Pen goes upstairs, JoJo heads out saying she’ll check in tomorrow. Gillian helps me in the kitchen – and byhelpsme, I mean he takes over.
“She’s taking a while up there.” He places a toasted cheese sandwich on a plate.
My thoughts exactly.“Let me check on her.”
Muffled sniffles drift through the closed bedroom door as I approach. I stop and close my eyes.God, I hate that sound.All I want is to pull her into my arms and hold her tight.
I step inside the room. “Hey, luv.” Her head snaps up as I announce my presence.
Pen sits in her bra and panties on the edge of the king-size bed.
“I can’t get my bra off,” she says, her voice cracking.
Coming up behind her, I unclasp the bra. As it slides off her, I press a tender kiss between her shoulder blades. “I got you.”
“You’re good at that.”
“Unclasping your bra?”
A soft laugh whooshes from her. “Getting me.”
Sitting beside her, I fold her into my arms and let myself do what I’ve wanted to do since she’d called, just hold her. She slumps against me, and our tension seems to melt away.
“I promise I’m ok. This is only temporary.” She holds up her hand.
I brush wayward tendrils of hair away from her face. “I know it’s temporary, but I’m not.”
Our gazes lock and my hands coast along her silky skin. All I want to do is pull her into my arms and never let go. To protecther from anything that dares to hurt her. But I can’t. No matter how much the caveman inside me wants to, I can’t protect her.
It’s a truth I’ve ignored since the moment the plane nosedived. Despite her being secure in my arms, I couldn’t protect her if the plane crashed. I couldn’t protect her from Alex. I couldn’t protect her from this dog or the next one, the literal or metaphorical. All I can do is hold her and take care of her in the aftermath. For the first time in my life, I know I am powerless.
“I should probably put some clothes on,” she says.
Running my fingers along her spine, I smirk. “I’m not complaining.”
“Perv.” A smile brightens her face and further unwinds the tension inside me.
Kissing the center of her forehead, I rise and walk to the dresser. I pull out a pair of sleep shorts and one of my T-shirts, which is her current loungewear go-to.
“Thanks,” she says, taking the shorts and pulling them on with her uninjured hand. With a bit of a wiggle, she tugs the T-shirt over her head. A hiss falls out of her as she pushes her injured hand through the sleeve.
“Gillian made a toasted cheese.” The sweet aroma of chocolate chip cookies wafts into the room. “He also put in some break and bake cookies. We both thought you deserved a special treat.”
“It’s been a day.” Grabbing a hair tie from the dresser she attempts to brush her hair, the injured hand not allowing her to gather it up. “Seriously!” she winces and tosses the hair tie onto the bed.
I scoop it up. “May I?”
