Chapter 32 #2
“You are losing your mind,” she told Slade. Then she turned to look at Rock. “And why are you walking behind us?”
“He’s guarding you,” Slade said.
“Guarding me? Is he expecting Billy to appear?” She glanced around, suddenly more nervous.
Why had she insisted on coming to see Benito? She should have just called him.
“Hey, listen to me.” Slade stopped and reached out to cup the side of her face.
“We’re not expecting Billy. Actually, we think he’s in Wales, hiding.
However, we want to be prepared for anything because it’s our job to keep you safe, okay?
And even if Billy did appear, we would take care of him. He would not touch you. Understand?”
She nodded and Rock reached around and opened the passenger door of the car. Slade helped her in and drew a blanket over legs. As if he was worried she’d get cold. Then he buckled her in, checking the belt.
Slade placed a kiss on her forehead and she shivered. Then he closed her door before climbing into his seat and they drove away.
“Anything else you need while we’re out, Boo?” Slade asked as they headed into traffic. It would have made more sense to take the underground but both men had taken offense when she’d pointed that out.
Men.
“Uh, well, I was going to ask if we could stop at a charity shop or a budget store.”
“Why would you want to do that?” Slade asked.
“I really need a coat since it’s getting close to winter and I can’t wear Spencer’s all the time. And I wish I had some concealer or something to cover the bruise on my face.”
“The coat is being taken care of,” Slade said. “The makeup is trickier. Can you order it online?”
“I could if I had a credit card.”
“Done.”
What did that mean? And what did he mean that the coat was being taken care of?
She opened her mouth to ask when she caught sight of some Christmas lights on the building to their right and it distracted her.
“Oh, the Christmas lights are going up.” That seemed early, but she guessed it was nearly November. The markets would start soon too.
She loved Christmas markets.
“Hmm, when you’re feeling better we can go see them. And the markets,” Slade said.
“But you hate Christmas,” she pointed out.
“Only because my father never remembered it. I got a gift from his secretary each year. And some of the staff would put up a tree. But that was it. I was lucky if he even bothered to be at home.”
Rock grunted.
“Spencer’s family love Christmas,” Slade told her. “He’d definitely be excited to go see the lights and go to the market.”
She knew that. She still had a photo of the two of them on Santa’s knee at a Christmas market.
They pulled up to the entrance to the underground garage, then headed upstairs.
As soon as they entered the penthouse, Slade took off her coat, then started to lead her toward the bedroom. But she tugged on his hand. “I can’t go back to bed.”
He stared down at her. “You shouldn’t push yourself too hard.”
“I’m not. I just want to watch a movie out here or something. Maybe have some popcorn.”
“Popcorn is high in salt and fat,” Spencer said, popping out of his bedroom with his laptop. “What size shoe are you?”
“I’m a seven. Why?”
“I’m buying you some winter boots. How many do you think you need? Three or four pairs?”
“Three or four pairs?” She gaped at him. “Why would I need that many?”
“Well, I figured you need a pair of black and a pair of tan. Then I’ve got some high and some low ones. What about high-heeled ones?” He eyed her. “Actually, no. Your center of gravity will be off for high-heeled boots.”
Her what?
What was going on right now?
“Come and find a movie to watch. Or do you need the toilet first?” Slade asked.
She wanted to object to that question. But, darn it, she totally needed the bathroom.
“I’ll be back. And we need to talk about this whole boot situation. ”
“What’s to talk about?” Spencer said. “They’re already bought. Rock, what are you doing?”
“Popcorn,” Rock replied.
“Popcorn isn’t a good choice. How about some chickpeas?” Spencer asked.
She pulled a face and spotted Slade doing the same thing. She pointed at Spencer. “Legumes are not a treat. They’re an unnecessary evil.”
“I could toast them in the air fryer with a light spray of olive oil,” Spencer offered.
“Everything about that sentence was just wrong,” Slade said. “Let her have some popcorn. She’s not living off it.”
“I’ll eat something green later,” she promised Spencer who was looking a bit upset.
That was a good compromise, right?
“Fine. Come on, I’ll take you to the bathroom.” He set his laptop down and she put her hand on his arm.
“It’s all right. I can do it myself. You might want to check Rock doesn’t add too much butter,” she told him.
Spencer turned toward the kitchen as Slade gave her a knowing look.
“What? Rock loves butter,” she said.
“So do you.” Slade shook his head. “Go. Pee on your own like a big girl. When you’re Little, it might be a different story.”
Uh, no it wouldn’t.
Sheesh.
After using the toilet, she stared in frustration at her messy hair.
A knock on the bathroom door made her jump and she had to bite back a groan of pain.
Crap.
“Yep?” she asked, opening the door.
Slade was leaning in the doorway, staring at her. “Spencer is worried that you’re taking too long.” He glanced at her hairbrush then at her hair. “Bring that with you.”
Huh ?
She followed him out, carrying the hairbrush and a hair tie. He led her to the sofa where he’d set up a small area in the corner of it with pillows and a blanket.
“For you.”
She sat and he carefully lifted her legs then tucked the blanket around her.
Rock placed a bowl of popcorn on her lap. Spencer was moving around the room, pulling the curtains and turning on lamps.
Did he ever sit still?
“Rock, Indie needs you to do her hair,” Slade said.
Rock nodded and took the hairbrush from her hand.
“You don’t have to do that,” she told him.
He simply grunted. Then he walked behind the sofa and started brushing her hair. Slade sat next to her on the sofa and turned on a movie. It was one of her favorite Christmas movies and she let out a small squeal.
“Yes!” she said. “My favorite Christmas movie.”
“ Gremlins is not a Christmas movie,” Spencer said.
“Is too,” she said as he sat and drew her feet onto his lap. “Gizmo wears a Santa hat.”
“That doesn’t make it a Christmas movie.”
“Pfft. You obviously know nothing about Christmas movies.”
Spencer snorted, but she knew he wasn’t offended when he started massaging her feet.
Oh God.
That was heaven.
Rock brushed her hair while Spencer rubbed her feet and Slade kept stealing bits of popcorn and brushing his hand against her.
It was sensory overload.
Almost too much.
Yet exactly what she needed.