Chapter 15
Chapter fifteen
Feather-soft fingertips trailed down my arm, so light, so gentle, as the caress stirred me from my sleep. I grinned, thinking I could get used to waking up this way every morning. I opened my eyes to tell Whit exactly that, but the words died on my lips.
Inches from my face was a putrid, rotting face, twisted with rage. She opened her mouth in that terrifying, silent scream.
I yelped, scrambling backward over the top of Whit’s legs, so anxious to put distance between me and the screaming woman, that I went too far and fell off the bed, slamming my shoulder into the floor.
Pain shot down my arm and up my neck, but I rolled onto my knees just as strong hands gripped my upper arms.
I screamed and struggled to get away, until arms wrapped around me, drawing me close, trapping my own arms to keep them from lashing out.
“Zellie!”
I immediately stopped moving and looked up to see Whit’s concerned expression, a long scratch along his cheek. “Whit,” I whispered. “Oh, my God. I’m so sorry!”
He touched the scratch, smearing a few drops of blood. “It’s fine. What happened? What’s wrong?”
Sobbing with relief, my fear and frustration spilling out in my tears, I opened my mouth to tell him everything about the screaming woman, the dreams of Susanna, all of it. But, for some reason, I just shook my head and managed to pull myself together before saying, “Nightmare.”
It wasn’t a lie. Not really.
He took my face in his hands and searched my eyes as if he knew I wasn’t telling him the whole truth. But instead of calling me out, he merely wiped my tears with his thumbs and kissed my forehead. “It’s okay now,” he murmured against my skin. “I’ve got you.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said, resting my cheek against his chest.
He tucked me in closer. “Zellie, no more apologies,” he insisted. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
I wasn’t so sure. It seemed like a damn big imposition to be living off of his kindness and generosity and waking him up at all hours.
“Well, I’ll try not to keep waking you up by screaming like a banshee and falling out of bed,” I assured him.
He pulled back enough to grin down at me, a wicked twinkle in his eyes. “So, does that mean you plan on spending a lot of time in my bed?”
My cheeks burned, but a thrill of desire made me shiver. “I suppose it does.”
A slow smile curved his lips. “I like the sound of that.”
He kissed me, long and slow. I savored every moment, clinging to him, not wanting to draw away from the safety of his arms. But later as we lay together, the sunlight streamed through his bedroom window, inching closer and closer to his bed as the time stretched on, and something told me this perfect peace couldn’t last, that I should be suspicious of something so beautiful.
Nothing good in my life except Henry had ever lasted.
“I should go,” I said, an ache in the center of my chest growing as I spoke the words. “I need to get Henry from June and Earl.”
“Why don’t I get him while you get ready?” Whit suggested.
I rolled over to face him. “Ready for what?”
He propped himself up on his elbow. “I’d like to take you and Henry out to breakfast—and Addie, too. They’re thick as thieves it seems. Maybe go down to River Street if you haven’t been yet.”
“Whit, you don’t have to do that,” I insisted.
His brows came together in a frown. “Do what?”
“You don’t have to take us out, spend money,” I said. “It’s okay if we just keep things between us.”
“Ah,” he said, nodding. “You think I’m trying to buy your affections by ingratiating myself with Henry and spending money on you.”
I shrugged. “I just…I want things between us to be genuine.”
His expression instantly became aloof.
I covered my face with my hands with a groan. “Damn it. Now I’ve offended you.”
He heaved a sigh. “No, not offended. Zellie, I have a shit ton of money. It’s ridiculous, really. But what good is it if I can’t make the people I care about feel special?” He pulled my hands away. “You deserve to feel special. Will you let me prove that to you?”
I studied his handsome face, still not daring to believe that someone like Whit was lying there beside me, that he truly cared about me and my son and that I wasn’t just a piece of ass that he’d cast aside when someone better came along.
After all, one night—and morning—of incredibly passionate make out sessions did not a relationship make.
But he seemed sincere.
I nodded. “Okay.”
Sometime later, he walked me to my door and kissed me so tenderly I felt adored for the first time in my life.
Already missing him, I watched him walk back to his apartment, waiting until he reached his door and turned back to offer me a smile.
Just then, a cloud must’ve passed over the sun for the shadows in the hallway grew darker, briefly obscuring him so that he was a mere shadow himself.
And then he slipped inside his apartment, and the cloud lifted, bright morning sunlight spilling into the hallway once more.
I shivered, the moment feeling like a warning that something dark was waiting just outside the periphery of my understanding. But I shook it off and entered my own apartment, relieved to find that the heaviness that had been there the night before had lifted.
I hurried to get ready and was just strapping on my sandals when the apartment door flew open and Henry came running in, a bright smile on his face.
“Good morning, Mama!” he said, hurrying to me to throw his arms around my neck in a tight hug.
“Good morning, baby,” I said, kissing his cheek and brushing his curls out of his eyes. “Did you have a good time with Ms. June and Mr. Earl?”
He nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, ma’am! And Mr. Whit said if I hurried up and got dressed and brushed my teeth, we could go get pancakes!”
“Well, you’d better get going,” I said, but he was already running to his bedroom before I’d even finished my sentence.
I chuckled and turned to the open door to where Whit stood. “What can I say? He loves pancakes.”
He strolled in and pulled me into his arms then shrugged. “Seemed like a good option considering our disastrous attempt at making pancakes.” Then he dipped his head to brush a kiss to my lips. When the kiss ended and he drew back, his eyes took on a hungry look. “You look amazing.”
I flushed and hastily stepped away from him when a rapid patter of footsteps alerted me to Henry’s return. Henry paused when he entered the room and glanced between the two of us. But then his smile grew, and he hurried to me and grabbed my hand and then Whit’s and dragged us toward the door.
“C’mon, guys,” he said. “We can’t keep Addie waiting!”
I laughed at his grown-up turn of phrase and glanced over to see Whit grinning, looking truly relaxed and happy.
Addie was practically bouncing with excitement when we exited the elevator, earning a mild rebuke from June to mind her manners. June then sent a questioning look at Whit who completely ignored it.
“Y’all have a good time,” she called as Whit and I hurried to keep up with Henry and Addie. “We’ll see you later!”
“Can we, please, Mama?” Henry asked, pointing toward the ice cream shop as we drove back toward Dawes House that afternoon.
“Are you serious?” I laughed. “Henry, how can you still be hungry after breakfast and lunch and the fudge Mr. Whit bought you and Addie?”
“Maybe he has a hollow leg,” Addie added matter-of-factly, pushing back her curls with both hands. “Mamaw says we must have a hollow leg because she doesn’t know where else we put all our food.”
I chuckled, turning around in my seat to look at the two of them. “You might be right,” I told her, grinning. “Are you wanting ice cream, too, Addie? I don’t want you guys to get upset tummies. Your mamaw won’t be happy with me if you get sick from too much junk.”
Addie shook her head. “I won’t get sick. I just eat peppermint and ginger when I have a tummy ache. Mamaw grows it in her kitchen.”
I glanced at Whit, realizing I’d never actually been inside June and Earl’s apartment. “Really?”
He nodded. “She has a third bedroom that doubles as a greenhouse, but most of the herbs she grows in the kitchen.”
I don’t know why that made me uneasy, but I shoved it to the back of my mind to think about later. “I guess it’s okay to get ice cream, if Mr. Whit is okay with it.”
“Coming right up!” he announced, making a U-turn and heading back toward the ice cream shop.
When we’d all finished off our ice cream, we loaded the kids back into the car.
I wasn’t surprised to see them fast asleep in their booster seats within minutes of being back on the road.
Apparently, Whit had noticed it at the same time because he reached over to take my hand and brought it to his lips.
“Thank you for this,” he said, his voice low, warm.
“I should be thanking you,” I told him, lacing my fingers loosely with his. “You didn’t have to get them every souvenir they asked for, you know. It really is okay to tell them no, especially as we live here.”
He shrugged and smiled. “I enjoyed it. I haven’t spent much time with Addie. I realize now what I’ve been missing out on.”
I thought that was a curious comment to make, especially considering the tension between him and June, but he admittedly hadn’t been around Dawes House much before Mr. Monty died, it seemed. So maybe he just had never had a chance to be around the little girl.
I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, enjoying the warmth of the sun on my face. “Thank you, Whit.”
His thumb smoothed over my skin. “Should I just drive around for a while? Let the kids nap?”
I nodded, happy to just be together.
We drove around Savannah and then to Tybee Island, thankfully heading back to Dawes House before Henry and Addie realized we were near the beach. That would have to be an adventure for another day.
“What’s brought that smile to your stunningly beautiful face?” Whit asked.