Page 67 of Sin and Redemption

I slipped under the covers but didn’t grab the book I’d taken with me for my bedtime reading. Isa had recommended it to me, and I really enjoyed it, but it would be rude to read when Maximus and I shared a bed for the first time. Right?

I blew out a breath and regarded my fingers on the white covers. I needed to get a new manicure. When I started pottery, I turned to acryl gel because even pottery couldn’t get rid of it. My nail polish usually chipped off within an hour of being at the potter’s wheel. I didn’t realize Maximus was beside the bed until he spoke up, “Is something wrong with your fingers?”

“I need to get French nails again,” I said, then flushed because it was such a stupid thing to say, vain and completely irrelevant to Maximus.

He sank down on the bed beside me with a deep frown. “Aren’t there any good nail places around here?”

I blinked at him, then burst out laughing. “They’re not from France. It’s just the style.”

He chuckled. “Ahh. I don’t know much about makeup and that stuff.”

“It’s all right. You don’t have to.” My smile became a bit tighter when my nerves rose again. Maximus wore only black boxers, revealing his impressive muscles. He slipped under the covers but left a gap between us. I scrambled for something halfway intelligent to say. We’d been married for over a year, but this moment right here showed we still had a lot of work to do to become a real married couple.

Maximus nodded toward the book on my nightstand. “You can read. I don’t mind.”

“What about you?”

Maximus leaned back against the headboard. “I usually only go to bed to sleep, or…” From the look on his face, I knew what he was referring to.

“Oh, I’m actually really tired, so I don’t even want to read anymore.”

My face felt as if it would combust at any moment.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Get some sleep.”

He stretched out on his back and rested his hands on his stomach. I doubted he could sleep like that. It looked incredibly uncomfortable.

I scooted down and turned on my side, facing him because it would have seemed rude to turn my back on him. He slanted me a look. “Is this weird?” he asked.

I bit my lower lip. “It’s new. And weird.” I let out a laugh, relieved he had mentioned it.

“It’ll get better.” His brows drew together as if he wasn’t sure that was true.

“If we work on it and share a bed at our apartment as well,” I said softly.

Maximus turned on his side. “You want to share a bed at home?” At home… I never called it that. Maybe because it hadn’t felt like that since I hadn’t put any work into it. But I wanted a child to live there, so it should be a home.

“We could try if tonight goes well and you don’t steal my blanket or kick me?” I gave him a hesitant smile.

His lips pulled into a small smile. Cautious hope brightened his eyes. “I’ll do my best,” he said in that low, deep voice that enthralled me more and more every day.

I wasn’t sure what I would have done if I weren’t on my period, but I was glad that I didn’t have to find out how brave I was.

I was woken in the middle of the night by Maximus tossing and turning in bed. He was mumbling in his sleep, incoherent words, but they rang with distress. It took my sleepy mind a couple of minutes to realize Maximus was having a nightmare.

I touched Maximus’s shoulder, and as expected, he woke immediately. He sat up abruptly, causing my hand to slip off his shoulder. I turned on the lamp. Squinting against the sudden brightness, I watched Maximus’s face. He was sweaty, and a deep frown pulled at his brows.

“You had a nightmare.”

“I did.”

I licked my lips, nervous. “Have you always suffered from nightmares?”

Maximus smiled darkly. “No. I had a couple of nightmares after the dogs attact my brother and me, and then for a very long time, nothing. Until the thing with Jabba happened. After that, nightmares are part of my nights.”

I put my hand on his. “I’m sorry. You always seem so tough, so I keep forgetting that you have to deal with your own trauma from that day.”

Maximus curled his fingers around my hand. “You don’t have to worry about me, alright? My trauma, or whatever you want to call it, is nothing. Definitely nothing I want you to waste your energy on. I want you to get past your trauma. That’s all that matters to me.”

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