“Bear.”
I hear the locks being undone, and then the door opens.
Indigo wasn’t kidding when she said Eloise didn’t look great. She’s pale, the dark smudges under her eyes the only color in her face. The woman has a haunted look in those eyes that tells me she’s seen things she cannot unsee. Done things she can’t undo.
“Hey.” The single word is all she gives me.
“Hey. You eaten that TV dinner yet?”
Eloise shakes her head.
Movement in my peripheral vision distracts me for a moment. I see a man turn the corner at the end of the hallway, to the left of her apartment, as I turn to look. All I get is a glimpse of him from behind – salt and pepper hair, jeans and a plaid shirt that look new, and sneakers. Nothing that makes him stand out, yet something about him seems familiar.
But Eloise chooses that moment to speak, and I put the man out of mind to focus on her.
“What are you doing here?”
“I’ve come to take care of you.”
She frowns at me. “Why?”
“Because I can?” Clutching her ratty robe closer to her, Eloise continues to frown at me, not moving. “I come bearing gifts, if that interests you in any way.”
At first, I don’t think she’s going to let me in but then, with a sigh, she steps back, pivots, and walks away, leaving the door open. Not about to look to overlook the opportunity, I enter her apartment, closing the door firmly behind me.
I find Eloise curled up in a ball on the sofa. Somehow, she manages to make her tall frame look small and achingly vulnerable lying there. The caveman in me wants nothing more than to drag her off to my metaphorical cave and take care of her. Being the strong, independent woman she is, I doubt that will go down well.
So, instead, I unload my bags onto the counter and set about taking care of her in a manner more acceptable to her. Flowers, scented candles, candy, juice, wine, pizza – what’s not to love? Dropping a couple slices of pie on a plate for each of us, I go over to where she is.
“Come on. Up you come,” I say, offering her a hand to help her sit up. Once she’s upright, I hand her a plate. “I’ve got wine or juice. Which would you prefer?”
“Wine. Definitely wine.” I head back to pour the wine and hear her mumble a thank you around a mouthful of food.
Food and drink sorted, we eat without talking. Weird for us, since we always seem to have so much to say to each other. I can see that something’s weighing heavily on Eloise. Trying to give her the space she needs but wanting her to know that I’m here for her, I clean up when we’re done eating, then get a bath running.
Bubbles, candles, soft music playing on my phone, the whole nine yards. Having not ever done this for a woman, ever, I pray I’m on the right track. Back in the living room, I simply tuck an arm around her back and one under her knees, lifting her into my arms, and carry her to the bathroom.
Lowering her feet to the floor, I support her long enough for her to gain her balance. “I’m going to leave you to soak in peace for a while. I’ll be back to check on you in a bit.” I go to walk away, and as I pass her, Eloise touches my arm.
“I don’t know why you’re here, but thank you.”
I drop a quick kiss on her forehead. “You’re welcome. Shout if you need anything.”
21
BEAR
All is quiet in the master bath. I make my way through Eloise’s darkened bedroom, the only light coming from the bathroom. Leaning against the doorframe, I study her as she lies with her eyes closed, her head resting against the tub.
I’m worried about her. I’ve not known her to be so quiet. Her unhealthy pallor is so unlike her usual robust complexion. A thought pops into my head, and I shudder at the thought that she might be sick – something serious.
I’m not sure what alerts her to my presence. She looks at me, the haunted expression in her eyes a little less than before, and the tight fist around my heart relaxes a tiny bit.
“Hey.”
“Hi. You ready for me to wash your hair?”
She offers me a small smile, and I feel like I just single-handedly won the Superbowl. “You don’t have to do that.”
