Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 95906 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95906 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
I tried to tell Rory I was okay but I couldn’t find my voice.
“Sir Con will protect you, Uncle Micah,” Rory whispered into my ear. “He promised.”
I wasn’t sure what she was talking about but I didn’t care. Just knowing she was safe was enough to calm some of my raging anxiety.
“Here,” Christopher croaked.
I felt a glass being pressed to my lips and I obediently swallowed the cold water that spilled into my mouth. The liquid helped me focus on something other than the panic that was still consuming me. I reached my free hand out and felt Christopher wrap his fingers around mine.
“I’m okay,” I rasped. Rory was still clinging to me and Con still had an arm around me, but I managed to turn my head enough to see Christopher. He looked terrified, but not shut down like he was prone to do when stressed. “I’m okay,” I repeated.
Rory finally released me and then Con gently straightened me. He handed me the glass of water which I promptly downed.
“I’ll get some more,” Christopher offered, then he snatched the glass from my hand and disappeared.
“Go back to bed, honey,” Con said. At some point he’d lifted her, so she was sitting on his leg. The doll that Con had gotten for her was in her arms. “I’ll stay with your uncle until he’s feeling better.”
Rory seemed to think it over for a bit and then she wiggled her finger at Con in the universal gesture to come closer. He obediently dropped his head. Rory rewarded him with a kiss on his cheek. Then she scrambled to my side, did the same to me, and hopped off the bed before shuffling off in her long nightgown.
“You okay?” Con asked as he wrapped his other arm around me, enfolding me in heat.
I nodded against his chest. It wasn’t quite the whole truth but I didn’t want to admit I was still pretty shaken up by the dream.
“Here, Uncle Micah,” Christopher said as he hurried into the room, the full glass of water sloshing precariously.
“Thank you, Christopher,” I said as I took it from him and had a few sips before handing it back to my nephew who dutifully placed it on the nightstand.
“Do you want me to stay in here with you, Uncle Micah?” Christopher asked.
“No, buddy, I’m good now. I’m sorry I woke you.”
“It’s okay,” Christopher quickly said. He was clearly nervous.
“Go back to bed,” I urged. “I’m fine now.”
Christopher hesitated, then nodded and left the room. He cast Con a glance over his shoulder, but I couldn’t make sense of the look that passed between them.
“I’m sorry—”
“How are you really?” Con asked.
I sighed and shook my head. “I thought confession was supposed to be good for the soul,” I murmured as I thought back to everything I’d admitted to Con that afternoon.
“I think that only applies to people who have something to be sorry for,” Con responded.
“Con, what I told you today—”
“Micah…”
Something about the tired way he said my name had me pausing before I responded with, “Yeah?”
“Can we just… start over? I think we both know the past isn’t going away, but maybe it doesn’t need to define what happens going forward.”
I sighed and nodded because it was exactly what I wanted. I leaned back into Con’s embrace. It wasn’t until my skin connected with his that I realized he wasn’t wearing a shirt.
“Do you want me to stay until you fall back asleep?” Con asked after several long minutes of just holding me. There was a subtle tension in his voice that had me wondering if his body was reacting to me the way mine was to him.
I shook my head because I didn’t have the strength to say the word. I forced myself to pull back and put a neutral expression on my face. One that was supposed to say I was fine.
Even if I was far from it.
I didn’t want Barry invading my dreams again. Or Ricky. There was only one person I wanted to have a starring role in them.
“If you need anything, you know where to find me,” Con said. He leaned in to press his lips against my temple.
If he hadn’t done that, I could have let him go.
Probably.
Maybe.
But he did do it and as soon as he stood up, my hand was reaching out to curl around his wrist. I couldn’t look up at him and yet I couldn’t let him go.
It felt like hours passed before Con leaned down and murmured, “Move over, sweetheart.”
God, I’d never get tired of that endearment.
I did as Con said and shifted so I was on the opposite side of the bed. It felt cold and lonely but then Con was climbing into bed with me and the second he lay down, his arms went around me and I ended up on top of him, pressed against his bare chest.