Page 75 of With a Grain of Salt

"She had a cupcake for breakfast," I mutter, feeling bad that Madison may bear the brunt of that sugar rush instead of Nora.

"Lucky girl," Madison says. "I'll make her some scrambled eggs. Maybe it'll help to dilute the sugar in her belly. See you in a little bit. Gotta get breakfast going before the boys start gnawing on the furniture."

The call ends and I'm left staring at the phone in my hand.

Walker must've heard part of the conversation because he makes a left instead of the right he's been taking, driving around town while I was on the phone.

He stays in the truck once again when he pulls up outside of the Graves Estate.

Chapter 31

Walker

I can only imagine what it took for her to walk away from Nora this morning. The woman stepped out on the porch with so much disdain in her eyes, it makes me wonder just how often she looks at Claire that way.

It's hard not to step over this invisible line she's drawn. I know my opinions or solutions, of which I can't think of many, wouldn't be received well, and she may very well reject a good idea just because it's coming from me.

I want to make her life easier. I want to see her smile and hear her laughter. I don't want to see a river of tears rolling down her gorgeous face.

If it took me taking over every bill she has so she could stay home with Larkin if that's what she wanted, I'd do it in a heartbeat with no expectations. I just don't want to see her sad.

She's inside Madison's house for ten minutes before she comes back out and I hate the appearance of stress lines on her face. She smiled the second she opened the door for me, although I could tell she was tired, but that jovial mood is long gone even though she’s found a solution to her problem.

I climb out of the truck and open her door for her, nodding when she whispers a thank you.

I know better, but instead of closing the door and climbing back inside so I can take her to the vet's office, I step up to her.

I fully expect her to pull away, to glare at the front of Madison's house and remind me that she doesn't want people to think we're dating. Instead, she rests her head on my shoulder and presses her palm to my stomach when I wrap her in a hug.

There's nothing sexual about the embrace, although that urge is always simmering right under the surface where she's concerned.

It only lasts for a few seconds before she pulls back, but I find myself grateful to have had that time with her.

"You okay?" I ask, cupping her cheek after taking a step back.

She nods, but I don't find any assurance in her eyes when she looks at me.

I step back further and close her door because I know there's no point in arguing with her. She's not the type to just open up and hand her problems to someone else, and for the most part, that's commendable. She wants to handle her business on her own, and I imagine any help she's gotten in the past has come with conditions. I know for a fact she doesn't want to feel like she owes anyone anything, but she's not quick to accept a favor even if it doesn't come with strings.

"This is the absolute worst time for all of this shit," she mutters once I'm on the road heading to her work.

"Did something more happen when you dropped Larkin off?"

She pulls in a deep breath. "Madison has her Christmas tree up now, and that isn't a big deal. I imagine a lot of people have had theirs up for a while with how close it is to the holidays, but I was planning on doing Christmas after the first of the year when I got my tax refund back."

"Do you have a tree?"

"It's in storage," she mutters. "There's never enough hours in the damn day."

I watch, my heart breaking, as she leans her head against her window, her eyes squeezing shut.

I open my mouth to offer to take care of it for her, but I know she isn't telling me these things because it's her way of asking for help. I think the woman would rather pull off her fingernails than open her mouth and admit she's struggling.

"Damnit," she mutters. "Did I even pay that bill last month?"

I look over at her and watch her throat work on a swallow. I've seen people at their wit's end. It didn't take long for soldiers to go from being okay to being in crisis when I was in the military, and I think Claire has been hanging on by a thread for a very long time.

I decide before I make it to Corbin's clinic that asking for forgiveness will be better than asking permission, so I keep my mouth shut even though my plans for the day have now just drastically changed.

---