Page 64 of Billionaire Lumberjack's Bargain

Shit.

I definitely shouldn’t have said that. Not after what my confession the other night did to the easy, comfortable companionship we had created. But she doesn’t pull away her hand, and her eyes finally lift to meet mine.

“Why won’t you take the medicine? I understand the fear of becoming addicted to narcotics. Believe me, I saw enough addicts in my time in the ER to know what that looks like and how awful it is. But muscle relaxers and taking an occasional pain pill when it’s really bad aren’t going to hurt you. They’re designed to help you avoidthis.”

“I can manage the pain, Camille.” I squeeze her hand again. “I always do.”

She gives me an incredulous look. “You shouldn’t have to.”

I don’t disagree with her, but it’s beside the point.

In a perfect world, the surgeries would not only have repaired the damage to my back but also done it in a way that left me completely pain free.

But that isn’t reality.

Thisis.

And I am not about to shove those pills down my throat—again.

“I was young when it happened, when I spent all that time in the hospital. But I remember how what they gave me made me feel like I was constantly stuck in some sort of nightmare I couldn’t get out of and couldn’t control. I always felt out of touch with reality and not in a good way.” I shake my head. “I don’t ever want to feel that as an adult. Not when Pops depends on me. Not when the homestead does. Not when you do—and I don’t say that to try to make you feel guilty. I say it because it’s something I have to do, even if you fought me tooth and nail on it, which I feel like you might now.”

“That’s why you were hiding it from me.” She glances up, a single tear sliding down her cheek. “Because you knew I would try to stop you from continuing to help us.”

I nod. “That and I hate anybody seeing me like this.”

She offers me a sympathetic look. “I can understand that.”

“Can you?”

A little humorless laugh falls from her lips. “Why do you think I didn’t want your help when you showed up?”

I laugh, the sound booming in the small room. “Oh, I know why you didn’t want it. Stubborn woman.”

Her mouth pulls into a half grin. “Dave always said I was stubborn. I guess it wasn’t just with him.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

She releases a long, drawn-out sigh, glancing out the window in the corner. “So, what now?”

It seems like such a simple question, but the answer I want to give her is far from it.

Because I don’t knowwhatshe’s asking.

About us?

I wish that were true, that this has somehow broken through all the reasons we shouldn’t act onwhateverthis is and allow her to try to find some sort of happiness again.

But I won’t presume to put her in that position by pushing it again.

“I rest the remainder of the day, and I get back at it tomorrow.”

She scowls, shifting slightly, like remaining in that position for so long is taking a toll on her—which it probably is, considering her current condition. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself, Dalton. It’s only going to get worse.”

It isn’t anything I don’t already know or that Pops hasn’t brought up at least a dozen times since he finally realized the extent of what I was doing up at the Bower property. But there’s nothing elsetodo.

“I don’t have a choice, Camille.”

Her jaw tenses at my soft words. “Maybe it’s time for me just to go and admit defeat.”

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