Page 99 of Mangled Memory
“That’s my girl.” The smile in his voice is unmistakable even if his face is serious as a heart attack. “You ready to go home?”
I nod against his chest, knowing he can feel it. “Home.” I say back, not giving away that for the first time since I woke up, itmeans something different. He’s safe. That’s my home. I can exhale knowing both of those things.
The hike down pushes both my mental and emotional limits. The physical? Well, tomorrow will tell that tale, but I suspect I’ll be sore and glad for it. The view was worth it. The reality that view levied was too.
More than an hour later, I open the back door to the warmth of something Corinne has cooking on the stove, beef something and some kind of bread. Good thing I hiked. Between the sweets this morning, and the bread tonight, I need the exercise. After the revelation yesterday, the bank heist this morning, and today at Beaver Brook, I’m tapped out. I want a nap, but the hot tub will have to do.
“Hey, Corinne.” I smile as the older woman leaves the butler’s pantry.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Barone.”
“It smells delicious. How much time do we have before it’s ready?”
“Corinne.” Christian’s deep voice fills the space.
“Mr. Barone,” she replies in the same tenor as her comments to me.
“Dinner needs another hour or so, Mrs. Barone. I can have it ready any time after that.”
A glance at my phone shows it’s nearly five. “Would six thirty work?”
“It’s perfect. I’ll have it on the table then.”
I twist over my shoulder. “That work for you, Honey?”
“Absolutely. I need to check in with work.” He turns to Corinne. “Thank you.”
I wave to them both and head to the bedroom. I strip off my clothes, wrap my wind-mussed hair into a knot on top my head and grab my phone before sliding into the hot tub.
I find some spa music on one of the apps and dial the volume where it doesn’t overpower the sounds outside but enhances what little nature is still out to play. Bubbles skim over my skin as the heat permeates my weary muscles, and I close my eyes to allow my body to feel and my mind to rest.
I have no idea how long I sit here. I don’t think I’ve fallen asleep, but a gentle nudge on my shoulder is more of a waking from a nap than a surprise. Christian extends a stem with deep red wine in it before climbing in next to me with his own.
He says nothing. The silence is neither loaded nor is it awkward. It’s two people who don’t have to fill all the spaces. It’s unusual but feels… right.
He eventually sets his glass aside and takes mine when it’s empty and does the same. “Today was… a lot.”
“Yeah. But it settled some things for me, too, and I can’t say there’s not some relief in that.”
“Relief isn’t a word I would assume would be associated with today.” He takes my hand under the water and tugs me closer to him, our sides in full contact. He rests our joined hands on his thigh. His very naked thigh.
“Working with facts is a whole lot easier than conjecture.”
“Always. Want to tell me about it?”
“Not really. Is that okay with you?”
He squeezes my hand on his thigh, releasing it and placing it on that solid muscle before his covers it, playing along the length of my fingers. “Of course. There’s something I want to tell you… about the conservatorship.”
I shake my head, staring out over the “patch,” as he called it, reveling in the peace. “Not tonight. I’m on overload and I don’t have the capacity to think anymore.”
“Okay, baby,” he says with a kiss to my temple. “But soon. You need to know.”
I keep my gaze at a distance. The air is crisper as night falls, the steam is visible as it rises, and the chlorine tickles my nostrils. “Mundane things only for the rest of the night.”
“Done.” The smile in his voice is unmistakable. “I love when you call meHoneywhen it’s not tart and snarky.” He runs a finger up the outside of my thigh. “Not that I mind your snark.”
A chill slithers through me.
