Page 118 of Love Me Fearless

After tonight, I will never take my freedom for granted.

His eyes fill with understanding. After gently setting me on my feet, he pulls me into a tender embrace. I sigh into his chest and savor his warmth and strength.

At my door, the motion sensor light kicks on, making me squint and my head throb, but then we’re inside and Hutch locks up behind us.

He pulls me close again, enveloping me in his strong arms and his woodsy scent. “How does a hot bath sound?”

I release a shaky breath. “Amazing.”

He combs down my hair, gently brushing my back as he does. “Okay.” With a kiss to my forehead, he takes my hand and leads me to the bathroom. He lowers to the edge of the deep tub and turns on the water. Using the lighter on the sill, he ignites all the candles, giving the room a soft glow.

“Will you get in with me?” I ask over the roar of the water.

He glances over his shoulder, those dark green eyes softening. “If you want.”

I reach out my hand, and he takes it. “I don’t want us to be apart.” My nose stings with emotion that I try to swallow but a single sob works free.

Hutch wraps his arms around me. “You’re in charge, Greely, okay?”

I force a steadying breath, because this might be the most compassionate thing he could say right now. “Okay.”

We undress, leaving our clothes in a pile, and I whip my hair into a loose bun while he turns off the faucet. Together, we step into the water. The tub isn’t really big enough for both of us, but Hutch settles in, his knees poking up, and guides me back, so my shoulders rest on his broad chest. It’s like having a very manly pillow. He wets awashcloth and lathers it with soap, then scrubs my neck and across my shoulders, moving in gentle, slow circles. He plants a soft kiss to the place behind my ear as he scrubs down my right arm to my fingers.

It’s so caring and tender. Attentive. I release a shaky sigh because it’s stirring up all of my emotions, and I’m too exhausted to fight them.

Though maybe I don’t need to.

Hutch washes down my left arm, shifting so he can kiss behind my ear, his lips so soft. Patient, almost reverent. He lathers up more soap and scrubs across my collarbones, gently past my breasts, and under the water to scrub my belly and sides. I roll forward, resting on my knees, so he can wash my back. He takes his time, rubbing the tension out of my muscles as he works. I release another heavy sigh.

He leans closer and kisses the nape of my neck, then washes my knees, then dips beneath the water to scrub my thighs and down my shins. After he rinses me clean, he draws me back and wraps his arms around me. I relax in his embrace while the candlelight plays across the walls and the warmth from the water and his body starts to warm me, too.

I’m safe, I’m safe, I’m safe.

It’s only then I allow myself to cry.

Hutch presses a kiss to my temple. “That’s my brave girl. Let it all go.”

So I do, letting my tears fall and my sobs rattle my shoulders while he holds me and kisses me tenderly, with his never-ending patience.

When I’m spent, he helps me from the tub. I’m so tired my legs wobble, but Hutch is there to steady me. Wrapped in towels, we brush our teeth. Something so simple, yet it brings on another wave of gratitude.

Then Hutch leads me to bed. Under the covers, he draws my body close, my head resting on his chest. Exhaustion washes through me, heavy and welcoming. With Hutch caressing up and down myarm, I close my eyes and let myself sink deeper into the promise of safety and shelter.

When I wake,Hutch is spooned against me and muted sunlight is filtering into my bedroom.

“Morning, sweetheart,” Hutch says, caressing my shoulder.

I draw his arm around my middle and sigh. “Morning.”

During the night, I woke a few times, my heart pounding, but he was right there each time to soothe me and hold me and tell me everything was going to be okay. I don’t know how I would have gotten through it alone, and if I’m being honest, that scares me.

“What would you like to do today?” he asks.

Last night, Hutch and Sepp both insisted I cancel my appointments for the rest of the week, so the question feels almost decadent. “Breakfast, a run, maybe help out at the farm? Then can we make dinner here?”

“I like this plan,” Hutch says. “Though you don’t need to do farm chores today if you don’t want to.”

“I want to. Maybe we could go riding too if there’s time?”

---