Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Kate
The soft brush of lips against my forehead rouses me from a deep sleep, but I’m not ready to face the day. Instead, I burrow into the warm, solid chest I’ve been using as a pillow and hum in satisfaction.
“C’mon, sleepyhead. We’ve got to get moving.” Vaughn’s morning voice is low and sexy, reminding me of all the dirty things he said last night.
“What time is it?”
“Quarter to six.”
“Can we take a rain check on the day and just stay here?” I mumble, even as my fingertips begin an exploration over the ridges and valleys of his excellent torso.
Strong arms wrap around me, one hand smoothing up and down my back like he’s memorizing my body. Those long fingers of his work magic as they flex and knead the tight muscles in my shoulders, running all the way down my spine before he cups my ass in a one-handed grip of ownership.
And he does. He owns me.
“Sorry, gorgeous. We’ve got to get moving. Gus has already texted that they will be starting his procedure sooner than later, and I want to be there before he goes in. Plus, you need to get to class.”
I pop up on an elbow, propping my chin on his chest to study his expression, trying to see where he’s at emotionally on all that’s happening with Gus. “I wish I could be there today.”
He raises up and kisses the tip of my nose. “I know. Selfishly, I wish you could be too. But you’ve gotta go be badass. You’re too close to the end to bow out now. Can’t let Asshat win.”
Sometime during the night, I confessed the challenges I’ve had with the guy who keeps calling me out. But this morning, there’s a troubled look behind that confidence of his. “Too bad his poor performance didn’t get him an automatic fail.”
He falls back onto the bed, running his fingers through my hair. I risk a glance up and take in the pinched brow, the rock-hard jawline. Just like I’ve been poring over my upcoming day, I know Vaughn has an equally challenging one ahead of him.
“Are you worried about Gus?” I ask quietly, hoping he will tell me what has him suddenly pensive. If I’ve learned anything about the Adams men, it’s that they feel deeply and won’t admit it to themselves, but they’ll admit it to me if I acknowledge that I can see it.
He studies his fingertip that traces my hairline, watching it as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. His large hand cups my jaw and pulls me in for a soft kiss.
“Yes.” He goes back to tracing my hairline, and I wait because it feels like he might have more to say. There’s a payoff to my patience, and Vaughn doesn’t disappoint. “I’m worried about you too.”
I school my features, trying to catch a wince before he notices it.
“I don’t doubt for a second that things would’ve been different had my father been here that night. Maybe he still would’ve died trying to save my mom. But I also think he had a savior complex due to the nature of his job, and he took risks that a normal person might not have.”
It takes every ounce of my self-control not to tense at what I expect he’s going to admit. I’ve been on pins and needles, wondering if my suspicions were true, since I found out how his parents died. This will be what keeps us from ever becoming something serious.
“You’re going through rookie school to do the job that got him killed… it’s hard to accept. It’s why I tried to stay away from you and fight this attraction between us.”
And there it is. Exactly what I was afraid of. But I can’t blame him; not after his experience. And I also don’t know what it means for us if we were ever to have a future.
“And now?”
He rolls us over, pinning me beneath him. “I don’t know the answer. But for now, I’m living for this moment, and then the next.”
And then he ends the conversation and uses his mouth in more interesting ways in the remaining time we have before he heads to the hospital and I drive to headquarters.
I explain Gus’s situation to my instructor, and he allows me to have my phone on me so I can receive real-time procedure updates.
Gus ends up having two stents put in during his heart cath.
I make it to the hospital after class and find a groggy Gus and a starving Vaughn, who dives into the meal I brought for him while Gus complains about his cardiac diet.
“I’m ready to get the hell out of here. The food’s terrible, and I need to check on the animals.”
“Gus, the only animal you have is Yankee, and I can handle him tonight. You need to stay here and rest.”
“I’ve got my bees, too, missy. And there’s no resting in the hospital. They’re busting in every ten minutes in the wee hours of the morning.”
“Bees are not animals. They are bugs.”
“Kate, forget about the bees, they can wait to be fed,” Vaughn says.
I’m sure he’s remembering how I lost my shit and spilled my greatest fear to him.
It’s humbling and embarrassing, but he doesn’t make a big deal of it.
Just like everything else, he sees a need and does what he can.
It’s one thing I like best about him. “I can do it in the morning. Or tomorrow, or whenever Gus gets released. Besides, it’s not like Gus has been taking care of them before now, anyway. ”
“That won’t do,” Gus declares with a shake of his head, and I bite back a growl of frustration.
Of all the times to be recalcitrant, why is Gus picking now, over freaking honeybees?
“I’ve been talking to the bees nearly every day,” he continues.
“That’s what made me have a heart attack.
Walking back from the hives is when all my problems started.
Need to get me one of them utility vehicles. ”
I blanch. “You didn’t get stung, did you?”
Understanding lights his eyes, and his voice softens. “Nah, Katie. My bees are sweet, they didn’t sting me. Now that Vaughn took care of the wasps, all is well.”
“I can do it,” I blurt. Jesus, I am an idiot. Why do I do this to myself and do things I know I hate to make others happy? But Gus says they are sweet bees, and Vaughn took care of the real problem. I can conquer this phobia and handle this simple task.
He passes on the simple instructions for feeding them and makes me promise to sweet-talk his bees.
“Don’t forget the sweet talk. They’re used to me sweet-talkin’ them,” Gus reminds me as I kiss his cheek before I leave.
Vaughn walks me out, and the thrill that races up my arm as his hand brushes mine is ridiculous.
I feel like a schoolgirl, begging for the hot guy to pay her attention.
Every touch feels powerful, meaningful. And they are so few and fleeting that I’m practically salivating to get my hands on him by the time we reach the door.
In the hallway, though, he takes my hand and pulls me close, like he’s as touch starved as I am. And in the elevator, the moment the doors close, he pushes me into the wall and claims a kiss. And when we reach my car, he presses me up against it, making my knees weak and my heart race.
If I’m not careful, I could fall for this man with his giant heart and the tender way he looks after those in his life.