Page 146 of Broken Trails
And when she wakes, I hope to hell she feels the same way. Because it’s the first thing I’m telling her.
The first thing I focused on after Harrison left was her.
Head tipped against the arm of the chair, auburn hair spilling over the side like a curtain, knees tucked up in a ball. She was still out cold, breathing slow, lips parted slightly like she’d been holding on for too long and finally let herself crash.
God, I don’t know how long I’ve been watching her like this. Does it make me a creep? Probably. Do I give a shit? Not even a little.
I don’t even know what time it is, but just as I’m about to fight sleep again, she blinks awake. It’s the softest flutter of her lashes before her gaze lands on mine—and she startles like she’s just seen a ghost.
She half-rises from the chair, fumbling for her balance. “Michael—”
“I’m fine,” I rasp. “Nurse just came by.”
Her eyes instantly fill, tears spilling before she can even speak. She sinks back into the chair, staring at me like she’s unsure if she should touch me or keep her distance.
“Hi,” I say.
Her lips tremble. “Hi.”
She wipes at her eyes, inhaling shakily. “Oh, God. I have so much to explain. I owe you the biggest apology, Michael.”
I frown. “Sorry, about what? Wait… who are you again?”
Her mouth drops open, eyes going wide. And fuck, all I want is to kiss the shock right off those perfect lip. “I’m kidding, Freckles.”
Her jaw drops even further before she lets out a disbelieving huff. “You jerk.”
Against my better judgement—and the sharp ache slicing through my chest—I reach for her, needing to feel her close, to smell her, breathe her in.
“No, wait,” she says, trying to pull back. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Shhh, baby.” I drag her carefully toward me anyway. “Nothing can hurt me now.”
She caves, burying her face into me, shoulders shaking with quiet sobs, and I smooth my palm down her hair, the scent of her shampoo hitting me so hard, my chest aches worse than my damn ribs. When she finally lifts her head, I notice the candles flickering on the side table.
How I never noticed them before is beyond me, but now, it’s almost as if they burn brighter, throwing gold light across her face.
There are multiple candles, all different sizes, lined along each side table beside me. I glance around and spot more—by the door, on the sink bench, even one perched on a stack of folded towels in the corner. She’s turned this sterile, whitewashed room into something warm.
Something alive.
“They couldn’t bring in a lamp,” she says softly. “ Completely useless. So I had to improvise.”
My eyes sting. “You bought all these candles?”
She nods, glancing around at the soft glow. “Had to go to three different stores, actually. Nearly gave the nurses a heart attack when I tried to light real candles, so then I had to hunt down LED ones.” A small, almost sheepish laugh slips out.
I brush a strand of hair from her face, needing to see all of her.
“It gets so dark in here at night,” she says, quieter now. “I just wanted you to have… something. I hope it’s okay.”
“It’s more than okay, my love.” My hand slides to cup her chin, thumb resting against the curve of her jaw. “But I don’t need the light anymore.”
Her brow furrows. “Why not?”
“Because you’re all the light I need.”
A breathy laugh slips from her, but it dissolves into fresh tears. Then her mouth is on mine. Soft, desperate, so fucking passionate it stirs that deep, familiar ache in my chest, making me feel all giddy and shit inside. And fuck, I melt into her touch.
