Page 22 of Sustain

Her eyebrow quirks up. “Careful, or I’ll hold you to that.” A grin flashes, and my chest warms despite the room’s lingering chill.

Before I can get flustered, I insist she relax while I finish preparing breakfast. “You. Sit. I’ll take care of everything,” I say, ushering her to a stool at the island.

“But--”

“But nothing. Consider yourself off duty today.”

She sits, but pouts, and it’s fucking adorable. Noticing her phone on the counter next to mine, she reaches for it, and the pout deepens.

“It’s dead, Jim,” she mutters, mournfully pushing the inert technology away.

I arch an eyebrow. “Are you a Trekkie?”

“Hmm?” she asks, distracted. “Oh, no. Well, maybe. I guess. Yeah.”

“So definitive.”

“Sorry, I’m still waking up.” She winces slightly as she shifts her weight.

“Well, I hope you got some rest after your...Shall I dispense some pain relief now to head off the worst?” I decide not to bring up her nightmare, or my resulting night spent next to her in bed.I’ve had enough stray thoughts about it all morning, and need to keep myself in check.

She considers my question and nods. “That’s probably a good idea.”

Before she can second guess herself, I head back into the bedroom where I’ve hidden the bottle of pills in my duffle bag and give it to her. She’s definitely going to need it, and it’s better to get ahead of the pain than try to catch up to it.

She takes it without complaint and accepts the plate of food and cup of coffee I put in front of her. Taking a delicate bite out of a piece of bacon, she eyes me curiously. “So, about last night...”

Oh boy, here we go.

thirteen

. . .

Electric Touch

Mackenzie

“So, about last night...”

He doesn’t respond, so I stir my coffee, grasping for the right words. Last night was crazy. The vivid nightmare, my pathetic weeping spell, Ian’s tender reassurances, falling asleep cradled against his chest. Heat prickles my cheeks, remembering. That doesn’t even include our ‘getting to know you’ personal questions.

God, where do I even begin?

I risk a glance up at him through my lashes. He’s attempting to appear nonchalant, focusing intently on scrubbing some non-existent speck off the counter, but tension pulls at the corded muscle in his forearm. At least I’m not the only awkward one.

“Thank you, by the way,” I offer softly. “For coming in when I was upset. And staying. You didn’t have to do that.”

Ian tosses the dishrag aside, leaning against the counter to finally meet my eyes. His expression is unreadable. “Of course, I did. I wasn’t about to leave you frightened and in pain.”

His gaze gentles, stirring that now familiar warmth in my core. “I meant what I said about being here for you. However you need. Just say the word.”

My lungs constrict oddly in my chest. I press on before dwelling on the meaning behind my breathlessness. “Thank you, I appreciate that. Last night was...well, a lot.” I give a self-deprecating laugh, willing a lighter mood to manifest. I don’t want things to get too heavy between us again. Not this early, anyway.

“Don’t mention it.” He turns away, and I’m not sure if he just gets embarrassed with gratitude directed at him, or what, but it’s endearing nonetheless.

I clear my throat, hoping a shift back to professional topics might settle us both. “So...I realize with everything going on, I never checked on how things are with everyone else at the hotel. Any word?”

Ian latches onto the subject change with visible relief. “Oh, right. Well, I touched base with hotel management this morning, at least. The power is out there, too. But apparently, everything is fairly under control. And the local production manager says the festival is still a go apparently, despite the weather.”

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