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“One person didn’t make it. Two people were rushed to the hospital but should recover.”
“I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”
“It’s part of the job.”
“Yes, but I’m still sorry that it’s part of the job you have to deal with.” She curls deeper into me. “And it has to be hard being a part of people’s worst days.” Normally she’d be right, but it doesn’t feel so bad right now with her in my arms and her body soft against mine. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.” I wrap my hand around the back of her head and tuck her face against my throat. “You don’t need that shit in your head before you go to sleep.”
“Was it bad?”
“Go to sleep, Genevieve.”
“Was it?”
“The guy who caused the accident trying to overtake the semi on a double yellow line didn’t make it. The family who got caught up in his stupid mistake survived. So did the semi driver. So yeah, it was bad, but it could have been worse.”
“Why are people so dumb sometimes?”
“Because some people don’t believe the worst-case scenario will ever happen to them.”
“You’re probably right.” She lets out a long breath, then leans back when my stomach growls.
“Are you hungry?”
“No.”
“What did you eat?” She tips her head back to look at me, even though it’s dark in the room and she probably can’t make out much.
“Go to sleep, Genevieve.”
“What did you eat?”
“Go to sleep,” I repeat, and she sighs, then scoots out of my hold and tosses back the blanket. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to make you something.”
“Babe, seriously, I’m good. Come back to bed.”
“I will in a minute.” She walks out of the room, and I hear Storm following behind her. Sitting up, I flip on the lamp next to the bed, then get up and go down the hall to the kitchen. Hearing me, she turns and looks over her shoulder, smiling. The sight of her standing at the counter in my kitchen with her hair down, wearing nothing but my shirt, with a smile on her face, making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, is something that will be forever ingrained in the back of my mind.
Walking up behind her, I wrap my arms around her waist and drop my mouth to her neck, hearing her laugh softly as she tips her head farther to the side, giving me more access to her throat. I don’t know where her head is at with this thing between us, but I know that without even trying she’s trapped me in her web. It’s why I despised the idea of coming home and her not being here, why when she said that she didn’t want her mom to find out that we’re spending time together, it pissed me off, and why when she asked if I ate dinner, I felt like I was home for the first time since I was a kid.
“Oh my god,” she cries out suddenly, pressing back into me. “There’s someone outside.”
“What?” I look out the window above the sink while she ducks down.
“Should I call the police?” she whispers, and I tip my chin down to look at her. “I mean the other police.”
I don’t want to think she’s cute right now, but fuck, she’s being cute.
“I think I got this, baby.” I turn my attention back to the window. The eight-foot-tall wood fence around the backyard stops right before the window, and with it being dark, I can’t make out much except the shadow of trees from the moonlight. I walk to the back door and make sure it’s locked, then go to the front of the house and look out the window. The street is still quiet—it’s too early for people to be up leaving for work or kids to be going to school, and there are no vehicles that look out of place parked on the block.
Going back to the kitchen, I find Genevieve sitting on the floor with Storm practically on her lap.
“Did you see anyone?”
“No.” I help her up off the ground. “I’m going to put on some clothes and go outside just to make sure that no one is out there.” I take her hand and lead her down the hall to the bedroom.
