Page 70 of Hell of a Mess
“I wasn’t sure if I should wake her. I’ll try that then,” he replied with a nod of his head. “And the eating?”
I shrugged. “Don’t think you can do that one. Seems it’s just me she likes to eat for.”
His eyes narrowed, and I held up both hands.
“Hey, don’t glare at me. It’s not my fault. I just ask her to eat something, tell her it’s good and she’s okay, and she does it.”
Mal let out a frustrated groan and ran his hand through his hair. “I’ve tried that. I took her shopping yesterday and bought her more books than anything. Then we went to get lunch. She wouldn’t order anything but a side salad and barely touched it. I tried telling her how good their burgers were and asked her to take a bite of mine. She looked like she might vomit—which she has, by the way. After dinner, two nights in a row.”
Dammit. She had to eat more than that.
“You took her away from me,” I reminded him.
“She called me. Asked to leave.”
That was painful. I hated hearing it.
“I can’t believe I’m asking you this, but can you come to the house for dinner? Get her to eat. Please. She’s got dark circles under her eyes, and she looks pale. I don’t know if it’s from lack of sleep or nutrition or both.”
Why the fuck was I just now hearing about this?! She was that bad off? Dammit! Why had she left me?
“All right, but I’m not doing this for you,” I replied, picking back up a glove.
“You’re doing it for her,” he said somberly.
I nodded.
“Don’t make me regret this, Luther.”
“Ah, Mal, you already do,” I drawled with a smirk and turned back to plant my fist into the bag with a new wave of rage Ineeded to expel.
I’d spent the last three hours pacing the length of my bedroom and watching the time. The closer it got to when I would see Lace, the more fucking crazed I felt.
When Mal opened the front door of his house, he seemed so fucking relieved to see me that it was almost comical.
“You’re early,” he said, not sounding upset about it as he stepped back to let me enter.
“Please tell me you aren’t the one cooking,” I said, walking past him and into the foyer.
“No, I just hired a new cook,” he replied, then glanced nervously in the direction of where the great room was located. “Gwen just brought out appetizers though.”
“Gwen?”
“The cook,” he explained. “Gathe and Locke have both eaten some, but she’s not even glanced at it, other than to say, ‘No thank you,’ when Locke offered her some.”
I’d seen Gathe’s truck outside. Locke must have ridden with him. Seemed the whole fucking family was here.
I walked toward the great room, wishing like hell I could do this alone. See her for the first time since she’d left. Ask her why. Not have an audience. But that wasn’t happening, and she needed to eat. She needed me. She shouldn’t have left me.
My strides lengthened the closer I got with the promise of soaking her in. Seeing that she was okay. Just being near her. I ignored the others in the room as I entered, my gaze locking in on her immediately. She was at the opposite end of the sofa, sitting straight, her hands in her lap, looking so goddamn beautiful that it wasn’t fair.
Her head turned, and her eyes went wide when they met mine.So, Mal hadn’t told her I was coming. I smiled at her and watched as the sadness in those ocean eyes faded and brightened with…happiness. Fucking hell. That wasn’t helping. How was I supposed to leave this house and not take her with me like a damn caveman?
“Thought I’d stop by and see how the newest member of the Bowen family is settling in,” I said with a smile. “And eat their food.”
“I invited Luther to dinner,” Mal informed the room.
Why he hadn’t told them before I got here I didn’t know, but whatever. I was here. With her.
