Page 44 of Double Down
“Did you sleep?”
“Yes—”
“Please don’t lie to me,” I say.
His fingers pause over the keyboard for a split second, and he arches an eyebrow in my direction as if to sayexcuse me?“I took a few power naps. I’m okay.”
He isn’t, but I know what he means. I’m not okay, either. None of this is okay.
“When was the last time you ate?”
“I’m not hungry,” he answers automatically. “I have to get this done.”
“That isn’t what I asked.” I step into the room and put my hands on his shoulders for a moment, squeezing, then lean down to wrap my arms around his upper body and rest my head on him, breathing in his scent.
There are only slight hints of his cologne now, just the barest whisper, but I can smell his soap and the warm, comforting scent that is all him.
“I—I don’t really remember,” he admits.
“If I make you a light breakfast, will you eat it for me?”
“Kitten, I don’t need you to take care of me.”
The words sting a little, and I straighten, tucking the hurt away. “I wouldn’t dare, Atticus. You’re pushing yourself to the limit, and I’m just trying to help take one thing off your mind by making sure you’re eating. The same fucking way you’d be watching out for me if the situation was reversed.”
“You’re right.” He leans back in the chair and slides his eyes closed, and I reach tentatively out once again, stroking his back and shoulders. His hand comes up and brackets mine in place against his chest, holding me there.
The room is silent save for the hum of the monitors, and I hold my breath, stroking my thumb back and forth against his skin beneath his hand.
“So you’ll eat?” I whisper after a moment. “For me?”
He nods.
“I’ll even bring it to you.” I hesitate a second longer, then kiss his cheek and head into the little kitchen where the breakfast cart was left.
I make him a plate of something simple—a few slices of bacon, an egg, and a waffle that I cut into strips and then a little bowl of syrup.
I’d love to make him back away from the monitors and eat at the table, but I know he won’t. So I make sure he can keep one hand on the keyboard.
Atticus’ fingers are flying over the keyboard again when I walk back in, and I know that while I don’t have his eyes on me, I have his attention.
The man in front of me doesn’t miss a beat.
“No coffee?” he asks.
“No. I brought you mint tea instead because it’s supposed to help with focus without making it impossible to sleep.”
His lips twist for a moment like he’s trying to come up with a reason to hate the idea of mint tea. Then he nods. “Thank you, kitten.”
Biting my lip, I move to leave him to it.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
His eyes are still on the monitors.
“Um.” I pause, trying to figure out what I could have done wrong. “To check on the others.”
“Come here.”
