Page 82 of Promise

“Any regrets?”

She lowers her gaze and shakes her head.

“You were pretty demanding, baby.” I hope she picks up on the tease in my voice. “I liked it.”

If her cheeks turn pink, I don’t know because of the steam in the shower, but the corner of her lip curls.

“But did I hurt you?” We were a little rough and that staircase certainly wasn’t a soft bed.

“No.” She closes her eyes, shaking her head again. “I liked it.”

My smile grows, and I swipe beneath her eyes with my thumbs. When she opens them, they are clearer but still sad.

“Let me take care of you.” I reach for the shampoo and pour a healthy dollop into my hands.

Trinity turns to face the wall. I lather up my hands and wash her hair, taking my time with the short length, massaging her scalp.

Eventually, I tip her chin to rinse the suds.

Next, I cover my hands with soap that smells like summertime and fresh meadows. Her scent. I press my fingers into her nape and my palms along her back. I rub her arms and down her legs, picking up her feet to scrub them.

And every time I touch her, she touches me in return. Her fingertips dance up my arms and along my wrists. Her fingers dig into my hair as I bend forward and lower for her legs.

“You always did take the best care of me.”

Sorrow still fills her voice. All the heartbreak of the past just beneath the surface.

“Want to take care of you again. You and Mirabelle.”

Her eyes widen. We haven’t talked about my role with Mirabelle. Whether I’ll be given one.

It’s a discussion for another day. Right now is about us. Just her and me.

I give my own body a quick rinse as the water turns colder. Then, I turn off the faucets and reach outside the shower for a towel. Wrapping it around her first, I step out and find a towel for me.

Her single towel on the hook is another reminder that I left her alone.

Tonight, and every night that follows, I don’t want her to feel alone again.

We each dry off a bit before Trinity reaches for one of those silky nightgowns she’s been wearing. They aren’t sexy as much as soft-looking, so feminine, so pretty on her.

“Trin. Can I be so bold as to ask if I can sleep with you tonight?”

I don’t want to leave her alone. I can’t control rambling thoughts or even settle them in one night, but one night is one step, and that’s what we need.

“I’d like that,” she says, reaching for a spare toothbrush in the vanity drawer.

As we stand side by side, brushing our teeth, the moment might feel mundane to another man. A nightly routine done by rote. A practice that happens out of habit. I might not have ever noted how many times Trin and I went through this process, side by side.

But I’ll never forget it again.

This is my chance to make new memories.

I won’t squander even the smallest ones.

24

[Dart]