Page 25 of New Hope, Old Grudges

It was all so freaking surreal, I didn’t even know what to say, what to do. I didn’t have full control over my thoughts, my teeth chattering as if on cue.

Brody jerked.

“We’ve got to get you out of these clothes and into a warm bath,” Brody said, walking toward the tub. His voice was firm, deep, warm. Warm was good. Warm wasgreatright now since it felt like my bones were frozen solid.

“Can you stand?” he looked down at me, his voice soft, tender.

I swallowed at the proximity to his face, his lips. I felt small and vulnerable, and I didn’t like it.

“Yes, of course, I can. In fact, it was totally unnecessary for you to have carried me this far,” I stated confidently. Or tried to sound confident. My words came out sounding husky and rough.

Brody stared at me with concern for a moment, looking as if he might argue with me, but luckily, he just nodded because I didn’t have the energy to argue. I was suddenly very tired.

Like I was made of delicate glass, Brody gently put me down on my feet, holding me steady as he unwrapped the blankets. I’d never had someone handle me so tenderly in my entire life.

“You good?” he murmured, his hands on my hips steadying me.

I swallowed past a lump in my throat. “Of course,” I lied.

His grip flexed on my hips, and the areas burned white-hot.

My body swayed as if I were on turbulent seas when he let me go. Brody jolted like he was going to catch me.

“I’m good,” I snapped, leaning on the edge of the bathtub.

Brody pursed his lips, obviously unhappy, but he let me be. He turned to the knobs of the tub, then the sounds of rushing water filled the silence.

Despite the warmth of the room, I shivered, looking at the steaming water with need.

Brody’s back was broad, shoulders wide and muscled. I looked from the water to his long, large hands working the knobs, holding them under the water to test the temperature.

I licked my lips.

Brody turned around. “I’m going to go get you a mug of hot cocoa and a bottle of water before you get in the bath. I’ll be right back.”

Before I could say anything, he grabbed my shoulders and pushed me, not roughly but firmly down onto the wide ledge of the bath so I was sitting. “I’ll be right back.”

I probably should’ve argued. Should’ve asked where we were—though I was pretty sure it was his place—should’ve demanded to be taken home, but I didn’t have the energy.

Plus, being taken home would’ve delivered me to my presumably worried and overly-doting mother and still mad brother. I’d have to face love, concern, anger. I only deserved one of those things.

So I didn’t argue with Brody. Nor did I think of anything as I watched the large bath slowly fill up. I didn’t think of the fight that led me there, the words that held true, the graveyard where my father’s body lay. I didn’t think of my ruined life. I didn’t even think of the fact that it was Brody Adams’s bathtub I was staring at.

It was nice.

I jumped when a large form moved beside me, placing a steaming mug and a bottle of water next to the now full bath before turning off the knobs.

Hazel eyes met mine. Again, they were intense, filled with concern … warmth.

“Do you need me to help you with your clothes?” he asked.

I blinked. Then I found my anger. “No, I don’t need you to undress me.”

Brody held up his hands in surrender, and although he still looked concerned, I could’ve sworn he was hiding a smile.

“There’s a robe you can wear.” He nodded to a dark-green, plaid robe hanging on the back of the door. “I’ll leave some fresh clothes by the door for you.”

I pursed my lips, stopping myself from thanking him for the kindness. I also stopped myself from refusing the offer. Though my clothes weren’t wet, they felt like they were made of icicles, so I was glad I wouldn’t have to put them back on.

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