Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 26164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
“Decent?” he asked.
“Yep,” she replied.
Turning, he took her in. “What kind of bath robe is that?”
“I’m the Cookie Monster.” She’d have thought that was pretty obvious. “Need bubbles,” she muttered without thinking. Turning, she reached for the cupboard but he brushed her hands away.
“I’ll get it. Sit.” He lifted her onto the counter. She sniffed. She needed to blow her nose.
Without saying anything, he grabbed a few tissues and held them out to her. She blew her nose. It was all snotty and gross. She groaned. What must he think of her?
Well, there was no way he’d ever find her attractive now.
The bath filled, and he poured some bubble bath in. Then he turned back to study her. “Can you get into the bath on your own?”
“Why? Will you help me if I can’t?” She fluttered her eyelashes at him.
“Is there something wrong with your eyes?” he asked seriously.
She groaned. “There’s something wrong with me.”
He pressed his hand to her forehead. “You’re running a fever. How long have you been sick?”
“Since the day you cleaned my gutters. Sorry I didn’t bring you the muffins. I didn’t want to infect you. Oh no,” she wailed, then put her hand over her mouth. “I’m going to get you sick.”
“Hush,” he commanded. “I’ll be fine. Now, can you get into the bath yourself?”
She nodded. Then moaned, wishing she hadn’t done that. Ouchie.
He eyed her. “Sure?”
“Sure.”
“If you need me, yell out.”
“Be fine,” she muttered. Then she sneezed. Eww. Definitely gross. She started crying, feeling sorry for herself as he handed her more tissues.
“No crying.”
“I can’t help it.” More tears dripped down her face.
Grumbling under his breath, he tilted her face back and gently wiped the tears off her face. “Stop crying.”
“O-okay.”
He sighed. “You’re not going to stop, are you?”
She shook her head. Another mistake as the room spun. A sad little whimper escaped her.
“Aw, baby. It’s not so bad.”
“Easy for you to say, I’m m-miserable.”
“What would make you feel better?”
“Huggles.” She held out her arms. Yep, she was aware that her Little side was showing. But right then, she didn’t much care. She just wanted a hug. And to be told that everything would be okay.
If he rejected her right now, well, she didn’t know what she would do.
To her surprise, he put one hand against the back of her head and the other arm went around her back and he drew her against him, cradling her. Her tears wet his plaid shirt.
A sob escaped.
“I thought you were gonna stop crying if I hugged you.”
“I w-will,” she told him. “Gimme a minute.”
“Okay, baby. You take your minute.”
Eventually, she calmed and drew back, rubbing the sleeves on her dressing gown over her eyes. He brushed her arm away, handing her more tissues.
“Blow your nose.”
Right. God knew how bad she probably looked right then. She blew her nose. “Why’re you being so nice to me?”
He raised one eyebrow. Darn, that was a neat trick. She wished she could do that.
“You expected me to be mean to you?”
Well . . .
He ran a hand over his face. “Fuck. Of course you did. I haven’t exactly been warm and friendly, have I?”
“You probably moved out here for some quiet, not an annoying neighbor who kept asking for stuff and bringing you food. I know I can be a lot. Sorry.”
He cupped her face between his large hands. “You have nothing to apologize for. Understand me? You’re sweet and kind and welcoming. I’m an old grouch who is set in his ways and doesn’t deserve your kindness.”
She gaped at him. Not only was that the most he’d ever said to her, but it was also so sweet that her brain could hardly take it in.
“Now, get in the bath. I’ll check on you later. Call out if you get into trouble.”
And then he was gone, leaving her wondering if that had really just happened or she’d dreamed it all.
Atticus paced outside the bathroom door.
She’d been in there long enough. He’d brought in several loads of wood, stacking some up under the roof of the back porch. He had her fire roaring. Now, he was waiting for her to get out of the bath.
Maybe he should make her something to eat. First, though, he best check to make sure she hadn’t fallen asleep in the bath. He knocked on the door.
“Lucie? You okay?”
“Yeah, be out in a minute.”
He grunted, then headed into the living room. He frowned at the blankets on the sofa. He didn’t like the idea of her sleeping out here. Moving into the kitchen, he started going through the cupboards.
Where the fuck was her food?
He heaved out a breath. Her woodshed had been half-empty as well. It should be full by this time of year in preparation for the winter months. Hell, fall was unpredictable. It could snow at any time.