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She buries her face under my chin. It feels like she’s snuggling in, but I know she’s actually hiding.
After a few minutes, she pulls away from me and I know she’s been wanting to do it for a while but is worried about how I’ll react. I let go of her.
“I’m not gonna hurt you,” I tell her.
“But you’re doing that.”
“No, I’m not. He’s the one that hurt you. I’m gonna fix it. I won’t ever hurt you.”
“Are you sure about that?” she asks.
Good question.
I answer honestly. “Maybe not a hundred per cent sure. I’m not feeling exactly stable where you’re concerned. Do us both a favor and let me make you happy.”
She gets out of bed. I watch her drag the big bag to the bathroom and I hear the door lock.
I listen and hear the water running. The sound of her brushing her teeth.
She surfaces a few minutes later dressed in pajama shorts and an oversized T-shirt, so I turn my lamp off. When she climbs into the bed I smell a clean scent. Face wash. And toothpaste. She turns the lamp on the other side of the bed on and I watch her uncap the water I put down for her. She drinks some, then changes her mind, lifts the wine glass and guzzles the whole thing before she sets that glass down.
“I don’t want to sleep beside you.”
“Why?” I ask.
“I don’t trust you. I can either sleep here and you can go somewhere else. Or I can go to your guest room, the couch, or even better would be me leaving and going to stay with a friend.”
“I’ve waited a long time for this night.” And then I amend, “Okay, well, not a long time but it feels like it. But no. You’re staying here. With me.”
I’m ready for an argument, for a struggle hopefully, but she lays down and turns her back to me.
I turn over and fit myself to her back, my hand gliding across her stomach and resting there. She’s rigid, but doesn’t struggle or move as I kiss her neck and hold her tight.
Goosebumps erupt on her skin.
“You want me?” I ask, running my nose down her neck.
Does she want me to fuck her? Is that what she’s hoping for?
“No. I’m cold.”
I snuggle in closer. She’s rigid still.
I’d like to fuck her. I’d like to fuck her and plant a baby in her stomach. Bring to fruition the visions from my mind tonight of her carrying my baby, holding it close and protectively. My hand skates across her stomach and I crave feeling it swelled. Because of me. My fingers slide under her waistband.
“Derek, no. Please, no,” she says and sniffles.
Maybe she needs no pressure tonight. Just the knowledge that I’m here. Holding her. Ready to give her the world.
“Okay. Go to sleep. I’ll just hold you tonight. You’re safe, Chloe. I promise.” I lean over and press a soft kiss to her cheekbone, then settle in behind her and close my eyes, my lungs filled with her scent.
Two hours later, I wake abruptly, taking a minute to absorb the feeling of Chloe sleeping against me. She’s now turned into me instead of being spooned by me. Her head is on my chest, her arm across my stomach, her fragrant, soft hair spread out over my shoulder.
And I feel that sensation again – that peace that’s foreign to me.
I hate to leave the warmth and comfort of having this woman in my bed, but I need to see what Hallman is up to. I watched him for a bit after running the bath, but I want to catch up and see if I missed anything important, so I carefully move her without waking her, press a kiss to her mouth, and go out to the dining table where my laptop sits.
After we left, Hallman had a bottle of booze delivered. He sat and drank a few shots while staring into space, looking miserable. And then he was in the bathroom a long time before he emerged, showered, the lower half of his body wrapped in a towel. He got shorts from the closet, got them to his thighs, pulled himself into the bed and got them the rest of the way on before he shut the lamp off. My camera auto-adjusted to night vision and I saw him pull one of the pillows on the other side of the bed over. He put it to his nose. Smelling all that was left of Chloe. He stared into the darkness for an hour before his eyes closed.
