Page 19 of You Can Make Me
I blew out a breath. “So when I showed up…”
He ducked his head a little and looked away. “I’d gotten home from the hospital that day.”
“Jesus Christ, Denny!”
“Hey, it’s bad enough I’m so much older than you. I didn’t want you thinking you’d end up saddled with some sick old man.”
I let my indignation bleed out a little. “Youarea sick old man.”
That brought his smile back.”I was going to tell you. I…Fuck, I was having a bit of an existential crisis. Not only about you,but yeah, about you. I saw a nutritionist, met with a physical therapist to talk about what I could and couldn’t do at the gym. I had to have a fuck ton of tests done. It was a lot, and after we’d just talked in Austin about, you know, the things we wanted to do… I had this fucked-up fear that I couldn’t giveanyof that to you, and I didn’t know how to tell you. I’d planned to, once I was recovered from my procedure.”
I rolled my eyes at him, and he chuckled.
“You know, they told me no stress, that I needed to avoid any high-pressure situations?—”
“God, shut up.” I pushed at him half-heartedly and turned my back to him, but he scooped me back into his arms and held me tight to his chest, pressing a kiss to the back of my shoulder. “Joke’s on you, I guess. Seems you’re the one who got saddled with my bullshit.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he murmured, kissing my shoulder once more.
It would be so easy to fall into kissing him, to let him hold me through all of the struggles I had before me. He was the most incredible man I’d ever met and everything had been so easy between us then.
So of course, I’d fucked it up.
“Yeah, well, maybe you should have your eyes checked too, old man.”
His grip loosened infinitesimally. Then he sighed. “My eyes are just fine.”
I wanted to let him hold me and pretend he was right, that I was a survivor and a fighter and that he didn’t care what I looked like.
ButIdid.
I pulled away from him and moved to the ledge. The water felt like heaven, but I couldn’t stand being so exposed.
“Cooper,” he breathed.
I tried climbing out but I was super unsteady. And then he was there, with a hand to my back, guiding and supporting me. He climbed out and handed me his towel while he dripped on the ground.
Confounding man and his distracting nudity!
He dried me off while I balanced on my cane, and the loving way he touched me made me want to scream. It would be so much easier if I didn’tfeelso much for him. I could be angry and send him away if he didn’t happen to be everything I could ever dream of in a partner.
I desperately needed him, his soothing voice, his optimism. When he spoke so nonchalantly, I could almost believe him that things would be okay.
I pulled away from him in a huff. “I got it.” I left him staring after me as I fought to wrap the towel around my waist and shuffled toward the cabin. The flagstone path was easier to navigate with the lights from the house guiding me, and I didn’t trip this time.
Go me.
When I got to the back door, I turned to see Denny hurriedly drying himself with his shirt and scooping up our belongings. I held it open and waited for him—not wanting to be atotaldick—and mourned the loss of his touch as I watched him move swiftly, gracefully in the moonlight. He was the quintessential soldier, his body shaped by his service and his career in law enforcement, his movements quick and efficient like he could do anything, even at his age. I loved to watch him, and I hated it at the same time.
I didn’t deserve Dennis Hamilton. Probably never had.
I should just make him go.
Tomorrow. I’d make him give me the phone and I’d call my mother and have her come get me. I’d be safe enough in Vegasat my childhood home. I’d get over myself and not fight with my parents.
And Dennis could have his life back.
We took turns using the bathroom, and I climbed into the queen-sized bed alone. Denny must have been sleeping on the couch, if he slept at all. I was such an ass I hadn’t even asked. The man truly was a machine.
