Page 82 of Somebody's Watching Me
He pulled her into his arms, tucking her head under his chin. “Says you.”
At home in her spot, she inhaled his scent. “Says I.”
“God, we’re so tired. We’re starting to talk like pirates.”
She giggled. “Argh.”
They stood holding one another in the dark as the rest of the house quieted for the night. No one interrupted or said anything if they passed the media room’s door, leaving them to have their moment.
“Have you eaten today?” he asked.
Had she? She honestly couldn’t remember. “I think so.”
He pulled back to look at her. “Where are you sleeping?”
The same question she asked him the night before. They had removed the cameras found in her room, but no one could erase the lingering fear—no one except him, and Liam knew that.
“In the cottage with you.”
“That’s what I thought.” Releasing his hold, Liam grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around to face the hall. “Go change your clothes, grab my bag, and meet me in the kitchen.”
“But sex is off the table,” she rushed out, wanting clear boundaries. Boundaries were important. “We’re keeping our hands to ourselves.”
“That’s fine. I don’t have to use my hands to get the job done. Other body parts, yes, but hand usage is optional.”
“William!”
He gave her a little push. “I’m kidding.”
Chapter 20
1994
“You can breathe.”
Could she? Standing in the doorway of the massive bedroom suite at Parkland Grounds while she watched Miranda sleep, could she actually breathe?
All clear. The doctors had given Miranda an all clear.
The cancer was gone.
The bitch was dead.
Hallelujah.
But.
There was always abut.
No victory was ever an absolute when it came to cancer.
As they left the doctor’s office today, the damn grim reaper wearing a white coat stopped them to say the dreadedbut. “But it can always return without warning.”
Without warning? Did cancer ever strikewithwarning? Josie had never wanted to punch a manmore.
No, that wasn’t true.
The guy standing next to her had held the honor for the longest time.Butthings change. Sometimes for the good. Sometimes for the bad. She didn’t have to like Ben Fairweather, but she no longer wanted to punch him.
