Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. Stephenie Meyer created it all.
As always, my thanks to Sherryola, Twiloversue, and LemonMartinis who pre-read and beta this story for me. I couldn't do this without you, as you well know!
Yeah! My shoulder's better…so I'll let you know at the bottom whose outtake is next! ;)
Edward POV
"Less this round, Dad, please," I begged when he came to see me mid-morning of the next day. He'd come to assess me and to develop a plan in regards to our next steps. I'd prepared my arguments for him in the early morning hours as Bella had slept on the rollout beside me.
"Edward, I am afraid to take the levels down too quickly. You won't rest, and you have to do that in order to recover." He wasn't entertaining any of my arguments.
"A compromise then, less during the day, and if you need to have me comatose at night you can do that. I'm having a hard time staying awake, and I can't even begin to think about starting a recovery when I can't walk or think."
"Where's Bella?" he asked, attempting to sidetrack me. As distractions went, it was a good one.
"She brought Samantha to see me again and had to take her back," I admitted to him.
"Your mother is asking a lot of questions about the little one since Alice filled her in. I'm afraid there is going to be a cat fight." He didn't seem too upset over the idea of my mom fighting for the little girl. I knew they'd spoken about being foster parents in the past and had even attended all the trainings.
"She loves me better." I felt defensive all of a sudden…possessive. I needed to think about this when my head was clear; there was a lot to consider.
"So, Bella will be a few minutes?" he went back to the original topic. At my nod, he continued. "Hmmm…then there is no better time than now to take these things off and let you see the damage, so that you can prepare her. Fast or slow?" he asked the question he'd always proposed of me as a child. I was the rip the Band-Aid off kinda guy. Emmett whined and wanted it to be done slowly. Mom did "gentle;" my dad did the "quick and dirty."
"Just get it over with."
He dabbed the edges with a solution and then peeled it back quickly. The liquid helped, so honestly it felt better than what I'd expected. "That wasn't so bad!" I choked out.
His grin told me that I wasn't fooling him too much. I probably looked green. He moved to the tray depositing the dirty bandages before picking up the antiseptic and a hand held mirror. "We can always do cosmetic surgery if you desire it," he said, cleaning the wound quickly before handing me the mirror.
It was actually very clean, and the surgeon had managed to patch me up nicely, but it was still nasty looking. It wasn't the fact that I'd carry a scar for which I felt horror; it was the location of the wound. My father had waited patiently for me to realize the significance. Deep, dark bruising surrounded the pink, stitched, healing flesh, but the hole was but mere inches from my heart.
"How am I still alive?" I gasped out.
He sat elegantly on the side of my bed, as if my question had sapped all his energy. "Miracle. It is my only logical explanation." He paused a moment to let the harsh words sink in. "Let me look at the chest tube site," he suggested, leaving me with the mirror to look at the wound that should have ended my life. Another round of bandaging came off, and he grunted in satisfaction upon seeing it. "I think we can do without the cover here anymore, but the bullet wound, I need to tape back up."
He waited patiently for me to hand him the mirror back.
"I saved the bullet for the police, but now that he's dead…it's not even evidence anymore. Want it?" he asked irreverently, causing me to shake my head quickly.
"NO! No…I'm perfectly fine without it."
He chuckled at my answer before resuming a serious face. "You think if I go find a walker, that you can manage some steps?"
"You aren't really asking, so just go find it!" I grimaced at his humor, because honestly, I knew the quicker I was up and moving, the sooner I would get out of the hospital. I could do much of my recovery at home, where I would prefer to be.
"A minute then, and I'll have this covered up," he murmured already picking out the gauze.
While I waited on him to acquire the walker, I made the effort to sit up and button my shirt over the bandaging. When the knock came at the door, and I called out, I presumed it would be one of the nurses. They'd taken to announcing themselves before coming in, insinuating that they didn't want to walk in on "anything." They were having entirely too good of a time with the Bella thing. So, I was shocked to find not a nurse, but Dr. Paschal walking in. A quick check of my clothing told me I was presentable, but still being barefoot made me feel undressed.
She smiled softly, seeing me at the edge of the bed, before walking over.
"Edward, you look better than I expected," she noted. It was then that I realized I'd missed my appointment with her, being in the hospital.
"Oh! I should have had someone…"
"Don't panic, against my better judgment and our agreement, I called to check on you when you didn't make your appointment. One of your brothers told me you were in the hospital after I explained I was your doctor. I wouldn't have had to call in the first place if I would've picked up the morning paper. I'm sorry that I gave them the information I was your physician, but I wasn't specific."
I could care less, having been meaning to tell them that I'd sought out help. "Big Goofball or Southern accent?" I questioned, wondering exactly who she spoke to.
"Southern accent," she answered.
"That's Jasper, Alice's husband."
"Ah…"
"Please sit! My father will be back in a moment. He's gone to get the torture device otherwise known as a walker, but I would like to introduce you."
She nodded and sat in the chair that Bella always utilized. "So…do I need to worry that it was a suicide mission?"
I couldn't help but grinning at her snarky attitude. "No! No. I just didn't think and reacted."
"Classic martyr. We need to work on that," she indicated, leaning back as if we were going to start a therapy session.
I couldn't help but chuckle, and the movement sent a spike of pain racing through me.
Having seen my grimace, she asked in a clinical fashion, "Exactly how close did you come to dying?" Psychiatrist she may be, but she was still a doctor as well.
"Inches." I held up two fingers above my chest, indicating the location of the gunshot in comparison to my heart.
"Edward, even though my grandfather and I disagree about a lot of things, I do accept some of his wisdom. He is notorious for saying that luck is really just the hand of God giving us the opportunity to right wrongs. For him, it was whether or not he linked the clues on a big case; thereby giving the next victim the chance to not be a victim. For you, this is about really starting from this point forward and making different and better decisions."
When she saw me nod in agreement, she smiled. She was already beautiful, but when she did so, she was blinding. I immediately wondered why she'd never married. For all I knew, she had a serious relationship…she was young, exquisite, intelligent, and extremely successful in her field. NOT that getting married or having a relationship was the ultimate goal for everyone, but even with the required clinical detachment she had to have from me, I could tell she was an all-around good person. I could imagine anyone feeling lucky to have her as a companion.
"Bella…you've spoken?" she asked softly.
"Yes…as best as possible while I'm drugged up and lying in a hospital. She is going to give me a chance!" I couldn't help the joy that infused my voice as I said it and the broad smile that broke across my face. "She's here now; actually, she hasn't left since we got here. She just went with one of my visitors. If you can stay, I would like for you to meet her as well." The words were said as more of a question than anything, knowing she had to maintain certain ethical boundaries.
"I would like that, but does she know about me?"
"No." I snickered. "No one does, but there is no better time than now. Can you see how that would have gone if I hadn't made it?" I did my best impression of Elizabeth's voice. "Mr. Cullen, I'm so sorry for your loss, but I'm the woman that at least tried to clean up the mess in his head."
She actually broke out into peals of laughter, eliciting my own, just as the door opened and my father, Bella, and Demetri walked in.
Bella POV
"Hey Beautiful!" Demetri called out, catching my attention. He was stepping off the elevator just as I turned the corner of the hallway from returning Samantha to her room for a nap.
"Deme!"
It was good to see him, and my mouth watered when I saw the basket he was carrying. Was it too much to hope that Sulpicia had sent some of her homemade Pasta e Fagioli and breadsticks? My prayer was answered when he stepped closer and the smells emanating from the basket wafted over me. My stomach growled loudly, and he grinned at the noise before kissing my forehead.
"Uncle Aro called Dr. Cullen and asked what Edward might be able to eat. Aunt Cia got busy. I suggested the breadsticks so that you can feed them to him." He smirked in a very feral manner.
"Ah…" I snorted but felt the need to bitch a little "…you have no clue. The man has gone all Victorian on me."
The glee that lit his eyes should have been a warning. "Well, if the breadsticks and buttery fingers don't work, I can always make him jealous," he suggested, adopting a very sultry look and stepping toward me in a provocative manner.
It was very convincing, and I saw several of the nurses freeze in their steps, overwhelmed by his magnetism.
"Stop, or I'll throw you to the wolves," I threatened, nodding in the general vicinity of some of the women fluffing their hair. Edward had been declared officially off the market by most of them, but it didn't mean his friends weren't up for grabs.
He clearly caught my threat and laughed softly. Unfortunately, it came off as a seductive purr and several of the nurses began to step our way, like cats drawn to cat-nip. Feeling only a tad sorry for him, I linked my arm through his and began to guide him toward the room. Carlisle met us at the next intersection, wheeling a seated walker in front of him.
"You're actually going to attempt to get him up?" I asked in an amazed voice. Edward had only awakened yesterday…wasn't it a little too early?
After shaking Demetri's hand and eyeing the basket with greed when the aromas hit him, Carlisle enlightened me. "Patients who survive these types of wounds…many still die from the secondary infections, mostly Pneumonia. If he doesn't get up and move around, he could easily contract it. He isn't out of danger yet."
I hadn't thought of that. The fear took hold, and suddenly I was willing to do whatever was necessary to get him walking…even stripping naked in front of him if necessary. My irreverent chuckle drew Carlisle's attention.
"I'm certain I don't want to know what just went through your head." He said it more as a question.
With a big smile, I told him, "No, probably not."
Just steps from the room, I was caught off guard by loud laughter and when Carlisle opened the door, I felt as if hell had swallowed me whole. Sitting in my seat was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen, and she was laughing at a smiling Edward. They looked entirely comfortable with each other…too comfortable. Talons of jealousy sank themselves deeply into my heart, and I stopped walking, unable to move for fear of falling apart.
One of his many lovers?
I couldn't compete with her…her natural grace and overwhelming beauty. When she turned to see us, it was as if the painters of old had fashioned a masterpiece. Platinum blond hair falling in waves about her shoulders, bright blue eyes, a face formed by the gods and from what I could see of her body…immaculate. She stood with a smile on her face, and I realized she was probably just under six foot tall. Perfect for Edward in comparison to me.
Edward was waving me over to him with a big smile on his face, which perplexed me. Did he really think that this was okay? Demetri put his free hand to the small of my back and surreptitiously nudged me forward. It helped dispel the murderous rage I was grappling with. I was imagining my hands wrapped around her throat. To stop now would show weakness, and that was something I would never do, but each step seemed to kill off a little more of the brief joy I'd snatched.
As soon as I got close enough, Edward grabbed my hand pulling me to where I stood between his legs. How could he not feel how rigid I was?
"Bella, Dad, Demetri…" I couldn't believe he was being so calm. "…I would like to introduce you to Dr. Paschal." A freaking doctor as well. I wanted to scratch her perfectly formed eyes out. "She's my psychiatrist."
It was as if a bomb had gone off. I wondered what my face looked like, because Carlisle's was pretty hilarious and Demetri's was shell-shocked. He was staring at the woman like she was a bug. I recovered, but not quickly enough. Dr. Paschal had a look that told me that she knew what we'd all assumed.
Okay, so I wasn't perfect…
"It's nice to meet you, Bella. I feel as if I know you already from all that Edward has told me about you. I'm sorry we have to meet under such circumstances."
She held out her hand for me to shake and squeezed mine gently. It was woman code for "Truce."
Psychiatrist?
"Psychiatrist?" Carlisle said in a strained tone, voicing my question. "You are Dr. Elizabeth Paschal?" I'd never seen Carlisle lose his composure except for when Edward fell to the floor of the recital hall. This was only the second time.
"Yes," she said demurely.
"Howard Teten's granddaughter!" Demetri coughed out, and it was then that I saw what he was attempting to cover up.
The tingling across my skin solidified into a hum at the base of my skull. But I didn't know her well enough…
Elizabeth's eyes turned almost glacial. "Fed?"
I watched as Demetri transformed and pulled up to his full height. It was like watching a lion being challenged on the plains of Africa…mane standing out as an intimidation technique.
"Yes," he said with pride.
"Profiler?" she guessed, narrowing her eyes at him.
"But of course," he answered with pompous disdain.
It was as if I saw her dismiss him and his fury at it. Sparks flew between the two of them, and through the corner of my eye I saw Edward's head whipping back and forth between them in an attempt to discern what had just occurred.
"Dr. Cullen," she said with enough grace to make the Queen of England proud. She held her hand out in acknowledgement of Carlisle. He'd recovered to be his normally charming self.
Trying to reign in the chaos that had occurred, Edward cleared his throat before saying, "I've been seeing Elizabeth for just on a year. She's been helping me with…things."
Thank God I knew what he meant when he said "seeing Elizabeth" and "things," otherwise I would have lunged. But then my world righted when I turned to look fully at him. His eyes were on me and the love shining through them was clear…complicated…but clear. The band around my chest let loose, and I felt sad about my assumptions, even though a part of me rationalized I had good reasons for my feelings.
"She came to check on me because I missed our last appointment. I had to beg hard just to get her to keep me on as a client after our original contract was up, and being at each appointment on time is a non-negotiable term. It seems that I should have insisted on being wheeled into her office, since even being on death's door wasn't a good enough excuse."
I saw her crack a smile at his sarcasm and realized she had Edward's card. Suddenly, knowing she wasn't a complication from the past, I liked her…a lot.
"Therapy?" Carlisle said in a stunned voice, and then he glanced over to Edward in astonishment and a huge dose of growing happiness.
"Dissection, really." Edward snorted at Elizabeth. "I'm glad though you've gotten to meet."
Dr. Paschal reached to get her purse and then shook my hand again. "Dr. Cullen, Ms. Swan, it has been a privilege to meet you." She'd purposely left out Demetri. "I have other appointments, but I was in the area of the hospital and wanted to take the opportunity to check on Edward. I'll give you leave on those weekly meetings until you are released from the hospital," she told him, with just the right amount of authority.
"Right, because we would sure hate for you to miss out on the opportunity to mess with someone's head," Demetri murmured in a biting tone.
To her credit, Elizabeth barely acknowledged him until right before she sailed regally out the door. "Bye Tracker…good luck with your chase."
He hissed at the door when it shut, and then had the grace to blush when I looked at him in confusion and a good deal of reproach. "I hate Shrinks," he said quickly, as if that should explain it away. When he saw that I didn't back down, he added, "Profiling is a science, we have a pattern and flow that helps us know what to look for and expect. Those quacks come in and throw in unknowns, saying they can heal people. Most of the time the only thing that can fix them is the bite of a bullet or a ride in the electric chair."
Then as if he'd realized he'd just called Edward's doctor a quack, he blushed again and said, "I didn't mean any disrespect, I'm sure she is perfectly appropriate for you." Then realizing how that sounded…as if he thought Edward was the progeny of a quack, he just huffed. "Maybe I'd better just shut up. Want some soup?" he offered up as a peace offering.
Edward snickered at Demetri, but the look he traded with me was loaded. It seemed to say, What was that all about?
I shrugged.
"Edward, I suggest you get the exercise out of the way first, before you eat. That way if you get nauseous you don't waste a perfectly good meal."
Carlisle was right. I'd had this soup a multitude of times, and it wasn't something to pass up on.
"Need my help," Demetri asked of Carlisle and Edward, knowing that it was going to be a concerted effort to get Edward down the hallway and back.
"If you're up for abuse," Edward muttered already mentally preparing to stand. The stark white color he turned when he did concerned me, but I saw the bare shake of Carlisle's head. He was warning me to let Edward struggle with it.
"I'll get this heated up," I offered, knowing that I was a wimp.
"'kay," Edward managed. He smiled then…it was a pained one, but it was a smile. "I'll be back in a few minutes," he promised.
And I'd have something decent waiting for him to eat, already mentally unpacking the noodles I'd have to add to the soup and nuke in the microwave down the hall. Upon entering the hallway, I watched as he walked behind the contraption, his dad at one side, Demetri at the other. His gait was slow and painful, and he favored his left side. I could only imagine that it hurt like hell. Turning the other way, I went for the nurses' station, knowing that I'd be able to sneak use of the microwave from there.
While it heated, causing several nurses to poke their heads in and groan at the smell, I thought about what had just happened.
My jealousy had been immediate and intense. I'd never wanted to strangle someone so much. It was a clear indication that Edward and I had a lot to work out still. How did you sort through so many years of being apart? Through so many mistakes? I knew without a doubt that I still loved and longed for Edward, but it would also take time to build the trust and work through the hurt. How did we take the first step? How did I do it while still being respectful and true to myself?
I would admit to the fact I was putting off dealing with all those thoughts and emotions for the immediate need to get him healthy and out of here. Life and death kind of took on number one priority when you were faced with it. But we would have to wade into some very harsh subjects soon.
The microwave dinged, pulling me back to the moment. Stirring in the noodles, I turned it back on.
The physical part of our relationship would probably be the easiest to fix…get naked…problem solved. I couldn't stop the giggle that tore out of me and quickly looked around the empty nurses' retreat to make sure that no one had been watching. They'd think I was a crazy woman. But the jealousy I'd felt when I thought Dr. Paschal was one of his conquests had made me realize that while the physical part of intimacy would be easy…the emotional part might not be so. Edward had been right, when I'd challenged him about his previous actions. It might kill me, but I needed to be able to trust him first. I'd asked the question, because I really just wanted to see how he would answer it. Whether his answer would be greedy or respectful, blasé or well thought out. I was testing him, I knew, but couldn't help it. And his answer had shown just how much thought he had put into it. His willingness to give me control had shocked me, but it was clever of him to allow me that power.
Yes, going slow was the best idea…damn it…but it was going to kill me. I wanted to growl in frustration. I was no angel, and no one had ever been able to elicit the responses he had from my body. It was probably the wrong analogy to make, but he was just the right "fix" for me.
I moved to grab the basket Demetri had handed over and pulled the first pot from the appliance placing it inside and pulling the second one out. Cia had made too much, but from the look on Carlisle's face, I knew he would be like a kid in a candy store given the chance to have some.
The Cullens were another thing. The thought of being cold and un-emotional with them had flown out the door with the almost tragedy we'd faced, but just like with Edward, we had to refashion our relationships. Alice was determined to spend time with me, having clearly said that it was the only way we would heal. I agreed. I'd expected that she would tell me we were going shopping, and she'd squealed with a "of course that will happen, Silly," but then she'd admitted that she'd like for me to see her paintings more. It would seem that little Alice had funneled some of that excess energy into something other than retail therapy. I was curious; I had to admit.
The ding told me the second pot was ready, so loading up the goodies, I made my way back to the room, straightened out the bed, and set up a plate of food for Carlisle. I'd seen them down the hallway, making their way back. Edward seemed labored, and I refused to think on it…but the images of the robust man who'd stepped back into Carlie's recital hall flashed through my mind. We would get back there, I swore.
I jumped up though when they came back through the door, and I saw the sweat beading across his forehead and across his lips. His hair was darkened and plastered to his skull in places. Breathing in uneven gasps, he barely made it to the bed before all but collapsing onto it. A sheen of perspiration covered him. Carlisle went to the machine, and I saw him begin to adjust a level, but Edward's words stopped his hand.
"Dad, no! Not until later, like we spoke about." He had to stop to catch his breath before he could speak again. "The pain…it gives me something to focus on."
Demetri actually looked sick, and I could tell that he was shocked by how frail Edward really was. Seeing how sticky he looked, the first thing I decided he needed besides soup was a quick wipe down. Going over to the bag that Alice had packed, I rummaged around to find some long sleep shorts and t-shirt. They might be too cool for Edward to sleep in, but it was better than the light flannel he was wearing now.
"Carlisle, can you get him into these?" I asked, holding up the shorts.
He tried to control the quirk of his lip, but he nodded quickly. While I went to the bathroom, he and Demetri made quick work of it.
"Look, Beautiful, I've got to go." Demetri stuck his head into the bathroom where I was getting a small container of water and washcloths ready. He moved to my side and hugged me quickly.
"Deme, you okay. I know we've known each other only a little while, but the whole thing with Edward's shrink…"
His eyes darkened, and it was what I'd needed to see. Contrary to the words I knew would come next, I made the decision to throw the two together somehow and let the fireworks take over…it was going to be a riot watching them.
"Yeah, I just have a natural aversion to people who think they can fix everything. Certain things are just…unsalvageable." His face was set in stone, as he looked back at me in the mirror.
"Okay, well I guess that it's a good thing you don't have to spend time with her."
I saw the twist of his mouth. Ah Deme…you are so…wrapped.
"Have fun with that sponge bath, Isabella. The man used all of his energy getting back here. Torture him with that first, and then use the breadsticks." He waggled his eyes at me and then took off running from my response. His good natured laughter stopped only long enough for him to wish Carlisle and Edward well before he exited the room.
I entered to find Carlisle devouring the bowl I'd set out for him and several pieces of Cia's homemade bread. He saw my amusement.
"I'd forgotten just how good a cook Cia was," he murmured, but then popped the last piece of lightly baked bread into his mouth.
Edward had closed his eyes and was leaning back against the raised bedding. The black sleep shorts really set off how pale he looked, but the sight of his naked chest almost did me in. Heat flashed across my skin, and in that moment I really questioned my sanity for thinking I could touch him. Then the sight of the bruising on his left side wiped away any lust. The white padding of bandaging seemed entirely too big.
"I'd just changed the bandaging, so I took the outer layer off. He was still dry underneath, so I didn't want to have to take them off again."
A small moan of gratitude from Edward let me know that one, he was still awake, and two, that the thought of re-bandaging the area was more than he could take at the moment. Sweat still poured across his forehead, and I wondered how much was from pain, how much was from the reduction of the narcotics, or the combination of the two. I'd told him I was here through thick and thin, so it seemed the best time to prove that to him.
Bringing the towels and water over that I'd brought with me, I put my hand under his shoulder and lifted to put several towels behind his head and picked up a small plastic cup. Seeing his dazed green eyes looking at me in question, I let him know, "I'm going to at least get the sweat off you Edward, and I'll start with your hair first."
His gasp almost covered up Carlisle rising.
"Bella, I took care of everything under the shorts. The rest is yours," he said softly before leaving the room.
As soon as the door closed behind him, it seemed as if the heat went up about thirty degrees. I blamed the shaking of my hands on it, but took a deep breath and let some of the water flow from the cup over the crown of Edward's head, the roll of toweling catching it before it wet the bed behind him. I forced myself to continue…ignoring the raspy breaths coming out of him…until his head and neck were saturated, and then I used a new towel to dry the water away, skimming over the skin of his toned back. Grabbing a washcloth, I put it into the container and then squeezed the icy cold water out of it before turning back to wash his face.
The heat in his gaze mesmerized me, and while my eyes remained locked with his, my hand, as if by memory, brushed caressingly across his forehead, cheekbones, and nose. A second squeeze of the cloth found me at his lips, and he moaned in pleasure as I rubbed the cool cloth across them and then down his neck. As if by instinct, he turned as if to kiss the inside of my arm but then froze.
"Bella…" he groaned. The sound was deep, needy, and sensual.
It was actually nice to hear, because I was about to come apart at the seams…and it seemed I was in good company. "Hush... I can't take this if you distract me." I placed the cool cloth against the top of his shoulder, ready to smooth across the heavy, sleek muscles there. The curve of his neck enflamed me and I realized I wanted to bite him…taste him. I actually eyed it like it was a treat.
"Bella!" he growled, and the sound snapped through my distraction at his skin.
When I met his eyes this time, I knew I wouldn't be able to finish the job. Neither one of us would survive it. I was panting in need, and I saw that he too was having difficulty breathing. I held the white cloth out like a flag of surrender. His hand shook as he took it from me, and I did my best not to break as he ran it quickly, weakly across his skin. I almost did for an entirely different reason though when he groaned in pain, having pulled up one of his legs to wash across it. Finally, done, he collapsed back.
"Thank you," he gruffly said as I took the cloth from him.
"Uh huh," I replied, still dazed from the contact. "Soup?" I croaked out. All thoughts of "seduction by bread" had fled. Again, all I needed to really remember was that touching him was enough.
"Please," he responded. "And while we eat, I would like for you to tell me how you felt when you thought Elizabeth and I were lovers."
"Why?" I cried out, realizing how deep that conversation would be, and that I was embarrassed that he'd noticed.
"Because, I know that it is one of the issues we need to face, and honestly, I need your venom right now. Maybe it'll help cool my ardor." He smirked slightly, shaking his head from side to side as if to dispel the lust induced cobwebs in his head. "Call me greedy, but I'm seeing it as at least a step in the right direction." He glanced sideways at me, and I saw that his eyes were glued to my lips. His preoccupation pleased me, and I bit my lower lip with my upper teeth.
"Oh dear God, Bella. Soup! Please!" he swore out, and it made my day. The shudder that racked him didn't hurt things either.
"Okay, but you know I am going to have to feed it to you," I pointed out the fact that he was exhausted and that his hands were shaking against the blanket he'd pulled over him.
"Oh, I know…"
It was hard not to laugh at the little boy sound to his voice. Like his father had been with the soup, it was if he was a greedy child in a candy store, desirous of the treat before him…me…but knowing that such indulgence could be the one thing that increased his discomfort.
"This is going to be hard," I noted of our attempts to work around the attraction between us.
He squirmed and darkly muttered something that suspiciously sounded like, "You have no idea…
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