Chapter 22
Alice
“Miss Alice, what’s this word?”
“That’s a hard one. It’s bouquet.”
Nellie tilts her head, brows crinkled at the book. “I know that word. This doesn’t have the right letters.”
“How do you think it should look?”
“B-o-w-k-a-y.” She spells the word to her liking.
“That would be easier, wouldn’t it? I’m sorry to say, you’re going to find a lot of words that aren’t spelled how they sound.”
“I don’t like that.”
I wrinkle my nose. “I don’t either.”
She sinks deeper into Sutton’s pillows and continues reading a passage about the girl picking flowers.
My eyelids flutter, and I fight back a yawn.
The last twenty-four hours have been a new kind of exhausting.
That includes the hours spent dancing with my friends.
The argument with Sutton. My sprint through town.
The hours spent in the ER waiting for stitches.
The lack of sleep. Waking up bright and early to argue some more, only for Sutton’s family and friends to descend upon us and stay well into the afternoon.
I’m not complaining. The group was more than a distraction from the events of the night prior.
Seeing them all interact in one big unit offered me something I never knew how to name.
An unconditional love I wasn’t sure existed.
Whitney and I were always a tight-knit duo, but it was just the two of us.
This was different. So many people at ease with one another and happy to exist in the same space.
Loving and celebrating each other. I didn’t fully grasp how unfamiliar that type of belonging is to me. Not until I saw it up close.
And I ache for it. Deeply.
If only I were brave enough to reach out and grasp it.
“Time for bed, Buttercup.” Sutton appears at the doorway to his bedroom, interrupting the nightly routine.
“One more page,” Nellie pouts.
Sutton sits on the end of the bed, leaning back onto his elbow. His navy-blue tee shirt tests the strength of the threads across his muscled chest. “Go ahead then. One more page.”
She dives back into her story, but Sutton isn’t paying attention. His eyes are on me. They zigzag across my body like a match flaming bright in the darkness. The intensity there is startling. A mixture of calculation and desire.
His protective instincts won’t yet yield to the fact that there’s a stranger in his house.
Though I can’t really say we’re strangers now, can I?
Not after last night, and the way he chased that guy off at the bar.
My body heats at the memory. His controlled demand. Sutton saw me from across the room, and despite not being anything to each other, he made it known he didn’t like it.
That was hot.
He might be my boss, but I’m also a single, warm-blooded woman who hasn’t gotten any since I dumped my last boyfriend nearly a year ago. I’d have to be blind or a liar to deny that Sutton Stone is a walking fantasy for half this town.
“All done!” Nellie slams her book closed and climbs down from the bed.
“Brush your teeth and wash your face. I’ll be right behind you to say good night.”
“Can we have our sleepover tonight?” She turns her expressive blue eyes on her father.
He brushes away a wayward strand of her hair. “Not tonight. Alice needs her rest.”
Nellie looks at my bruised face and pats my knee. “You’ll feel better tomorrow.” She skips out of the room to complete her bedtime tasks.
“How are you?” Sutton’s voice dips with the question, keeping the words safe from prying little ears.
“I’m good.”
Sutton doesn’t buy my automatic answer. “How are you really?”
Half my mouth quirks, the action conditioned. “I got hit in the face with a door. It’s not like I fought off a grizzly bear. I’m fine.”
“That’s not what I asked, Firecracker, and you know it.”
That nickname sizzles through me like he launched one straight at my chest. My shoulders rise with a visible deep breath.
“I mean it. Last night I was scared. Today, I think I’m leaning somewhere closer to pissed.”
“Good.”
“Good? You want me pissed?”
“No, but anything other than cracking jokes and laughing means you’re processing.”
My lips part. “You don’t know me.”
“I don’t?” His eyebrow quirks in an infuriating arch. “I know you’ve been laughing things off since you pulled up to this town.”
“Maybe I’m just an unserious person.”
“That’s definitely true. But you’re allowed to be more than just funny.”
Pressure grows inside my chest. “I know.”
“Your emotions are not a burden.”
A fist wraps around my throat. “Why are you doing this?”
He shrugs. “I saw you today. Chatting with the girls. Fitting right in at that table. I could tell by their faces that you weren’t diving deep with them.
Weren’t sharing your struggles, and I get that.
You don’t want to bring them down, which is bullshit, but it’s still new.
I just need you to know that you’re safe to do that here once everyone goes home—however you need to do that.
I’m a big guy. I can take whatever you’ve got. ”
Oh, hell.
Tears burn the corners of my eyes, but I blink hard against them. “You’re being really sweet.”
“Not trying to be. I’m just laying it out for you. I know what it’s like. It took me a long time to open up to my brothers about the shit I see at work. To let some of that go. Your safety and peace were violated. I know that doesn’t feel good.”
Pressing my lips flat, I shake my head.
Sutton’s hand flinches in the space between us before he lets it drop to the duvet. “Just know that I get it, and in case I’m not the right person, those girls here today get it too.”
The silence hangs between us. Heavy and thick and filled with all the things unsaid.
Nellie shatters it by shouting, “All done!” prompting Sutton to leave the room.
A count of ten passes through my head before I follow like I do every night I nanny for him. Except I guess now, this will be our normal routine for the foreseeable future. I could keep my distance, but I know Nellie would never allow that.
Her door closes with a low creak once her pillow is fluffed and hugs are passed around.
Sutton silently clicks off the hallway light, plunging us into near darkness.
Without much sight, my body is much more aware of his presence.
His heat lingers close behind me, a silent reassurance at my back.
I trail my fingertips against the wall to help guide my path back to his room.
I need pajamas from my overflowing duffel bag by the wall and a place to lie down stat.
Sutton disappears into his walk-in closet, returning a moment later with a pile of fabric in his hands.
“Just a sec, and I’ll get out of your way,” I announce with my back to the room.
Blankets rustle behind me, followed by the sound of something soft hitting the floor. Jeez. He’s clearly in a hurry to climb into bed.
Turning around, I snap my spine straight. I clutch my change of clothes to my chest. “What are you doing?”
His large hands stretch a corner of the fitted sheet around the deep mattress. “Changing the sheets before bed.”
A hot, embarrassed flush races up my neck. “Go ahead and burn them too. I hear that’s the only way to truly clean up a biohazard.”
Sutton’s hands freeze around the last corner. His head snaps in my direction. “Here I thought you might not want to sleep in my drool, but if you insist, I’ll leave the pillowcases on.”
“Why would I be worried about your drool?”
“You’re sleeping in here,” he tells the pillow, negating his threat as he pulls on a fresh cover.
“No, I’m not.”
His steely eyes meet mine. “I’ll take the couch.”
“Do we have to fight over this? I can sleep on your couch.”
“I’m about to go up and enjoy a cold beer while I watch the baseball game. There’s a 90 percent chance I’ll fall asleep.”
“What about the futon you mentioned before? The one in your office.”
Sutton picks up what appears to be a clean tee shirt folded over what I assume are pants or boxers. “Only if you want to smell like dog. That’s where Merit sleeps.”
My eyes slide over to the king-sized bed. While I’m contemplating my choices, Sutton closes the distance between us.
“I want you to have the bed. It’s comfortable, and like I said, I’m probably going to fall asleep watching the game.
But besides that, I know I’ll sleep decently, knowing you and Nellie are in the same place, and if something goes sideways, I don’t have to protect both of you in different areas of my house. ”
“Do you expect something to go sideways?” Alarm raises the hair on the back of my neck.
The heat of his palm sliding across the side of my neck reduces the dread. “No. Not even a little. But part of being a good cop is staying prepared, and this is how I’m choosin’ to do that.”
“Fine. I’ll sleep here tonight.”
“You’ll sleep here until I’m certain there’s no longer a threat.”
The unspoken piece lingers unsaid between us.
We both know when the threat is over, I’ll go back home where I belong.