Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
ROSE
“Do you want pancakes or French toast?”
Ian stands in the kitchen doorway, a pan held loosely in one hand. “I found a recipe for brown sugar French toast. Or I can make pancakes with strawberries and whipped cream. Unless you’re not in the mood for something sweet? We have bacon and eggs.”
“Oh—” I put my phone down on the coffee table and give him my full attention. “You don’t have to do all that. Cereal is fine?—”
“Or would you prefer cinnamon-sugar toast?” He ducks back into the kitchen for a second before reappearing pan-free. As he walks toward me, it’s impossible to miss the lines of strain etched across his forehead and around his mouth. “You didn’t eat last night. You must be starving.”
“Ian, it’s okay.” Shoving the throw off my legs, I push myself up from the couch. “I’m not really that hungry. Some cereal or fruit will be fine.”
Food is the last thing I’m thinking about. Right now it feels like there’s an enormous lump of clay in my stomach, lurching and flipping whenever one of the memories from last night hits me.
Waiting in the solarium, heart racing, terrified that my plan would work, scared that it wouldn’t. Brand leering at me. Eyeing me with that predatory stare. Diem’s furious expression. The venom in her voice. The hatred.
I’ve never been hated before. It’s a sickening thing. Even though there was no love lost between us, I never hated Diem. Annoyed by her? Yes. But hate? No. Not even now.
“Rose, hun.” Ian intercepts me steps from the couch and scoops me into his arms. “I told you to relax.” He settles me back against the cushions and tucks the throw around me with the intensity of a surgeon. “I’ll take care of everything.”
“It’s just breakfast.” Catching his hand, I pull him down beside me. With a smile, I reassure him, “I’d hardly call pouring a bowl of cereal stressful.”
His gaze sweeps across my face, assessing. Concern tightens his features. “I know it’s not. But after everything… I just… I want to take care of you. Make sure you’re okay.”
What he’s not saying is how guilty he feels for not stopping Diem from attacking me. For not being beside me when Brand made his sleazy offer. For agreeing to go along with my plan to begin with.
But it’s not his fault. None of it. Not in the slightest.
If it comes to who should feel guilty, it’s me.
Not that I think my plan was a bad idea. With the support of Ian and his friends, I think the benefits far outweigh the risks. But I knew it would be hard for Ian to stand back and watch while I essentially set myself up as bait. He’s so protective, especially of the people he cares about, and I love that about him. I love that he’d do anything to protect me.
“I’m sorry.” Climbing into his lap, I snuggle against his firm chest. Kissing his jaw, I murmur against his skin, “I know last night was hard. And I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
“What?” His head jerks back, brows jumping up in surprise. “Why are you apologizing to me ? You didn’t do anything wrong. And I was fine. You’re the one who was in danger. Who was attacked ?—”
“But you had to watch it. And I know that was hard for you. It was my idea. And I’m sorry it hurt you.”
“Ah, Rose.” His arms wrap around me, that perfect mix of strong and tender, and he kisses the top of my head. “You do not need to apologize for that. If it had been anyone else suggesting it, I would have been all for it. I love you, and I want to protect you, so yes, it was hard. But I can handle it. Okay?”
“Okay.” But I still feel bad. Which is why I nuzzle Ian’s neck and say, “You know what? Now that I’m thinking about it, I’d love a big breakfast. Maybe the French toast and eggs and bacon?” Not because I’m hungry, but because I think it’ll make him feel better to take care of me.
“Hmm.” Ian turns me in his arms and looks down at me. A smile tugs at his lips. “I can do that. As long as you stay here and relax.”
“I will. As long as you join me after you’re done cooking.” My eyes widen hopefully. “And maybe we could do some sexy things, too?”
He gives me a gently scolding look. “That’s not exactly what I meant by relaxing. You hardly got any sleep last night. I was thinking more like a nap after breakfast.”
A chill runs through me as I think about the nightmares from last night. All the old ones—the attack in my studio, out by the garage—rushing back. And new ones, like Diem pulling out a gun and shooting everyone at the show, leaving me until the end, shouting shrilly, “Now I’ve taken everything from you, Rosalyn! How does it feel?”
So yeah, I didn’t sleep well last night.
Ian catches something in my expression because he frowns, then hugs me close. “We’ll do both. First, we’ll make love and then we’ll take a long nap together. How does that sound?”
Shoving down the unpleasant thoughts, I smile at him. “That sounds like a great idea.”
Once Ian’s back in the kitchen, humming off-key as he clatters around, I grab my phone and snuggle back into the corner of the couch, pulling my favorite knit throw around me. I still haven’t responded to the text Thea sent; the one that arrived just before Ian came into the room.
Hey. I’ve been thinking about you. Are you doing okay? Do you need anything? Snacks? Wine? Books? I’m off this evening if you want company.
Warmth fills my chest. When I moved to Sleepy Hollow, I had hopes of making friends, but I never expected to make ones like these. Kind Thea, who always makes time to check in with me, to include me, despite her life being so busy already. Thoughtful Ari, who shared her own terrifying experiences, letting me know she’s here to listen any time I need. My trivia-mate, Willow, who always makes me laugh, especially when she’s tipsy after too many IPAs.
And then Ian’s friends, who are quickly becoming mine, too. Cash. Ben. Grant. Dave. All of them willing to drop anything to help Ian protect me.
A loud clunk comes from the kitchen, followed by a faint splat. A second later, Ian calls out brightly, “It’s fine! Just a little mishap with the eggs! Nothing to worry about!”
“Do you need the fire extinguisher?” I call back, laughing.
“Nope! Everything’s good!” Then, “We might have to skip the eggs, though.”
I’m giggling to myself as I send a message back to Thea.
I’m doing pretty good. Ian’s taking today and tomorrow off, so we’re just staying at home. He’s trying to make breakfast for me right now. It sounds… chaotic.
It’s been at least fifteen minutes since Thea texted, so I’m not sure if she’ll get right back to me, but a minute later her reply appears.
Oh, no! Ian cooking? Maybe I should pick up breakfast for you guys.
A few seconds later, she sends another message.
Just kidding! Sort of. But I’m glad you’re doing ok. Also… did you just call Ian’s place home? And not Ian’s house like you have been?
Oh . Did I? I hadn’t thought about it, but she’s right.
Is that a good thing? It is, if Ian wants me to stay here after everything settles.
Do I want to stay here?
Stay in this cute house that I’m already daydreaming about decorating for Christmas? See Baxter’s adorable face every day? Live with Ian permanently?
Yes. I do.
My breath catches as I realize how much I want to stay here. And how much it’ll hurt if Ian doesn’t feel the same.
With a slightly shaking hand, I tap out a response to Thea. I’m not used to opening up to friends about my feelings, but somehow this feels different.
I guess I did. I wasn’t thinking about it, but it feels like home. Which is kind of scary.
Three dots blink for a second.
Why is it scary?
I take a deep breath before answering. Ian loves me, but he was hurt badly by his ex. What if he doesn’t want that kind of commitment?
I’m scared he doesn’t feel the same way I do.
Almost a minute goes by without a response, long enough for me to convince myself that Thea knows something and is just trying to figure out a way to let me down gently.
Rose. If you saw the way he looks at you. There is NO WAY he doesn’t want you to stay.
The vise around my heart releases one twist.
He said he loves me. And I love him.
This time Thea’s response is immediate.
AH! I knew it!! I told Ian I had a feeling about you two! You have nothing to worry about. But talk to him. Then you’ll feel better. Trust me.
My lips tug up. This is what I missed with my acquaintances in the city. I never had someone like this to talk to.
Thanks. You’re right. I’ll talk to him. And maybe we could do wine and movies on Friday? Well, sparkling grape juice for you.
Thea’s message flashes on the screen a second later.
Yes. That sounds perfect. Now go help your sexy boyfriend so he doesn’t burn down the kitchen. Again.
Hmm. That makes me think; I haven’t heard anything from the kitchen in the last few minutes. Raising my voice, I ask, “Is everything okay? Do you need help?”
There’s a little clunk, and then, “Everything’s fine, Rose. I’ve got it under control.” Humor tinges his voice. “Do you think I’m messing things up?”
“Of course not!” Much. But that’s okay. I don’t love Ian for his cooking. I love him for everything else.
“I’ll be ready soon,” Ian promises. “And it’ll be great .”
I catch a glimpse of myself on the phone screen and realize I’m grinning like a loon.
Who would have thought the morning after I’m attacked by a woman I’ve known for over a decade, I’d be so happy?
Snuggling into the mountain of pillows Ian gathered for me, I sigh in pleasure. There might be crazy stuff going on around me, but here, with Ian, I feel safe.
The next thing I know, Ian’s rubbing my shoulder, his gaze soft as he looks at me. “Hun. You fell asleep. I would have let you sleep, but?—”
“Oh!” I jolt up, almost bashing him in the nose. “Breakfast. I’m sorry. Is it all cold?”
“No, hun. I put it in the oven on warm. It’s fine. I’m sorry to wake you, but—” He stops and takes my hand. “Cole called. They have some things they want to talk about. News.”
“What kind of news?” I take a shaky breath, trying to ease the pressure in my chest. “Bad news?”
“I don’t think so.” He slides onto the couch and pulls me into his arms. “I didn’t want to push for more info without you being on the phone, too. But Cole didn’t sound unhappy. So… Are you up for calling him back now? Or do you want to eat first?”
Eat? While my stomach is lodged somewhere in my esophagus? “Let’s call him first.”