Chapter 12
12
TAYLER
After the mess with Allen, I momentarily forgot my oath and that I had a patient who’d recently recovered and needed my attention. So, I detoured to run upstairs to check on Thandie and Ari instead of giving Allen two middle fingers and a piece of my mind.
And they really should have shut the door.
At first, I’d justified that Gage’s relationship with Ari seemed more like a brother than a husband because it was what I wanted to see. Then, after he mentioned Julien, I told myself that there might have been infidelity, and they were trying to make things work for their daughter. Even when Ari hinted that Julien was Thandie’s father, I’d told myself that Gage could have stepped up to raise the baby his wife created with another man.
But I’d run out of excuses.
How things sounded, the possibility of a romantic relationship never existed between them. Julien was Thandie’s father and, more than likely, Ari’s spouse or partner. If I had to guess, Gage had assumed the role of her fake husband as a form of protection. “Sister” wasn’t enough ammunition to stop the human predators, who were often more dangerous than the Infected.
I raced down the empty hallway and hid behind a corner, needing a moment to process the new information I’d eavesdropped my way into.
It didn’t matter that Gage wasn’t married.
And it wasn’t going to.
As far as he knew, I thought he was married. That meant he was still required to take his fake vows seriously. If he came on to me the same way he did before, this new knowledge wouldn’t prevent me from turning him down.
“Doc? You all right?”
I nearly leaped out of my skin.
Gage, who’d rounded the corner at some point, stood in front of me the way he always did—entirely too close. At night, I had Allen to hold me. The likelihood of that happening tonight, or ever again, was slim after his comment earlier, but I wasn’t touch-starved. Yet, I felt as if I’d suddenly developed the condition, though only for this man.
“Yeah, yeah.” I nodded, swallowing and centering myself by glancing at the floor. “I was just coming to check on Ari.”
I went to pass him, but he reached for my forearm. His large hand swallowed the limb, his fingers so long that they overlapped.
“I know it’s not much, but you saved my life,” he said. “You saved Ari’s life. The least I can do is offer a shoulder if you ever need one. I’m also available as a punching bag if you promise to go easy on me.”
I smiled.
His brows lifted slightly, and his gaze fell to my mouth.
“I might have to take you up on that,” I said.
“By all means,” his eyes slowly returned to mine, “take me up on it. I mean every word. Sometimes, I spiral. I go to dark places in my mind, and not only because of all this shit. I had a past before it. But seeing Ari laugh? Having somewhere safe for Thandie after all this time? It’s like the third blessing I’ve received in the past day and a half.”
“What’s the third?” I asked. “You only named two. Was it coming to the camp?”
He shook his head. “No. A ray of hope.”
“For humanity?”
“For a chance to feel something good in a world like this.”
He leaned down and quickly brushed his lips over mine.
I stopped breathing.
Despite it not being a real kiss—no pressure, no flick of his tongue—I was suddenly less aware of the walls, ceiling, and floor.
“Open your eyes, love.”
My eyelids rose. “They weren’t closed.”
“Of course not.” He motioned with his head toward where I’d grabbed a handful of his T-shirt. “You’re not doing that, either.”
Reluctantly, I let him go.
“That was just my way of saying thank you,” he explained. “And don’t worry. Ari gave me clearance for a few kisses. I just have to make sure I use them wisely.”
“Well, you are looking for a ‘third.’”
The corner of his mouth twitched, and I found myself growing attached to the gesture. It was cute, the little hint of a smile, but Gage Wolfe was more than cute. Men like Gage were everyone’s type, even if they weren’t. Never in a million years would I have ever thought I’d be here, lusting over a blond from the Outback.
I tried not to touch my lips as his thumb slid along the bare skin of my forearm. With the way he looked at me, I wondered whether he remembered he was supposed to be married, and that I wasn’t supposed to know he wasn’t.
“I should go,” I said. “Ari’s waiting.”
He released me one finger at a time.
After a departing nod, I hurried down the hallway, and I didn’t have to turn around to know he was watching. I felt his gaze through my scrubs, touching me in places I hadn’t thought about since before the start of the collapse.