Page 19 of Plaid Attitude
Aye,whispered a voice in the back of her head,Doughall has always been there.
He studied her face in silence for a few long moments. Finally, he murmured, “The Coira I ken would no’ cry over being startled.”
The words were enough to remind her who she was—who she wasto him—and she pushed herself upright. And suddenly, she wished he’d put his armscompletelyaround her.
“I’m no’ crying because ye startled me, I’m crying because—och, nay, I’mno’ crying, I’m just…” She shook her head, and another pair of frustrated tears leaked out. That triggered another laugh, which came out more like a sob. “I was standing funny, and I twisted, and it hurt, but that wasnae why I—”
She bit down on her words, unwilling to admit how much pressure she was under.
This close, she could see the flecks of brown in his blue eyes. They were a shade closer to gray than she’d realized, as they studied hers, looking for the lie.
Coira realized she was holding her breath.
Finally, those eyes crinkled at the corners and she knew he was smiling without having to glance down at his lips.
“I didnae think ye were standing funny.”
“I was most definitely standing funny. Yer daughter’s hedgehog is under my bed.”
He blinked.
Then his grin grew.
“Lady Coira, when Bessetta gives ye an animal, that animal is officially yers. Do ye need help getting it out?”
Suddenly, whatever had been holding her upright seemed to disappear, and she felt herself deflate. “Nay,” she sighed, looking away. “He’s happier under there, and I dinnae care…”
Before she could step back, he reacted the way a warrior might. In the blink of an eye, his arm was around her waist, the other cupping her cheek. Not aggressively, not threateningly, just…holding her. Letting her know he was there.
She could break his hold if she wanted.
She didn’t want to.
“Coira, what is really wrong?”
Blessed Virgin, she loved the way he said her name.
Now it was her turn to blink in surprise. What did it matter how the Oliphant Commander said her name? He was just a man, just a man she’d trained with.
A man who kens ye, dinnae be obtuse.
Aye. Aye, hedidsee her, didn’t he?
She blew out a breath and looked away. “Naught. Everything. I’m…” She rolled her neck, trying to touch her ears to each shoulder in a stretch she’d often seen him do. “I feel as if I’m drowning.”
“Aye,” he promptly agreed. “And ye look as taut as an overdrawn bowstring. How can I help?”
Her eyes widened at his offer, then she frowned. “Naught.”Everything.
He made that little smile she knew well; the one that said he disagreed but wasn’t going to argue, because that’s how he was.
“Come here,” was all he said.
Next thing she knew, he was sittingon her bed, and he’d tugged her down beside him. While she was busy wondering if Hagrid was listening to them, he wrapped his arm around her.
She’d known this man for years, as someone who’d worked with her, supported her when she’d needed it.
This should have been awkward as hell.
