Tears pool in her eyes. “But you’re not going to tell me what happened?”
I clench my jaw, fighting the desire to just say, “no,” like I want to. “Later. When you’re feeling better.”
I stalk to the bathroom, knowing full well that’s a conversation I will put off as long as possible.
Forever, if I had my way.
I have her back.
It may not be how I wanted it, but it’s a second chance.
An opportunity to fix things.
And maybe, just maybe, save what I lost.
WILLOW
The sound of the running water draws me toward the bathroom even though Killian’s tense parting words should act as a warning to stay away and give him some space.
I’ve never been particularly good at that.
It’s one of the reasons he and I ended up together in the first place.
People always gave him a wide berth, hoping to avoid being snapped at. He always preferred to spend his time alone—in the woods with his axe. Felling trees was his outlet for the tension he always seemed to carry with him, the weight that seemed to rest on his shoulders, even when we were younger.
But I was never scared of Killian McBride.
And for some reason, he never barked at me the way he did others.
Maybe it was because I hung around the property so much when I was younger and saw him grow into the man he became. Because I knew that Connie could never raise a son who didn’t have a good heart, despite what he might portray to the outside world.
I slowly pad toward the familiar scent of my favorite lavender and honey bubble bath and find Killian sitting on the edge of the huge cast-iron tub, running his hand through the water to encourage the bubbles to build higher—just the way I like them.
He remembered.
It shouldn’t matter so much, but the way my heart skips a beat when his eyes move from the tub up to mine tells me that whatever happened in the past year hasn’t changed the way I feel about this man one bit.
Even if I can’t remember it, my heart remembers him.
I step in cautiously, unsure how to even approach this man when I used to so easily run into his arms. Run my fingers through his hair. Trail them across his rippling muscles and inked skin.
He rises to his feet, wiping his hand on a towel as he assesses me. His eyes move over my face—from the bruise on my cheek to the bandage over my eyebrow. Then his gaze dips to my torso, zeroing in on my ribs.
Killian shifts uneasily, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck as he glances away. “Can you…uh…get undressed by yourself?”
Almost as if in response, my ribs throb, and the thought of trying to unbutton this shirt, get it off my arms, and then bend down to remove the sweatpants I came home from the hospital in is enough to make me wince. I could barely tolerate it with the assistance of the nurse at the hospital. Alone, there’s no way the pain won’t be unbearable, even with the meds Killian made sure I took before the drive home.
His lips twist into a scowl. “That’s what I thought…”
He steps up to me, keeping his gaze locked with mine as he slowly drags his fingers over the top button of my shirt, popping it free. My breath hitches, and he goes absolutely stock still. His hands hover over the next one, then he clears his throat and resumes making his way down the row until the material splits, exposing my breasts in the bra Raven brought me—along with all the bruises and scratches covering my torso.
His jaw tenses.
A muscle there tics wildly, matching the tempo of my racing heart.
His hands tremble as he carefully brushes the fabric over my shoulders and down my arms, tugging it free from one side, then the other. It flutters to the floor, along with any ability I might have had to appear unaffected by this.
My knees shake as hard as his hands do.
