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“Me, too.”
“Now get some rest.” He was grinning as he walked backward toward his SUV. “And take a shower. You smell like you’ve been rolling in a mud puddle.”
I glanced down at myself. My clothes were stiff with the muddy water of the pond and I’m sure I looked a fright, but I hadn’t given any of that a thought at the hospital.
I gave Elizabeth a quick bath and got a yogurt cup down her before I rocked her to sleep. I tucked her in with her favorite doll and left her night-light glowing and the door cracked as I slipped out into the hall and right into Justin’s waiting arms.
I should’ve known he’d be there waiting. I wilted into him as he rocked me back and forth in the silence of the hall. Eventually, the tears came, so hot and furious, they were silent as I soaked his shirt to the skin.
He slowly walked us down the hall toward my room and closed us inside, still holding me as my cries became sobs and I railed against the unfairness of it all. He let me pound out my frustration against his chest, standing there, taking it like my own personal punching bag.
Eventually, the worst of the storm left me, and I was left exhausted but with the shimmering relief that she was alive and well just down the hall. Thanks to him.
I lifted my gaze to his, sucker punched yet again by the electric blue of his magnetic eyes. “I would’ve died if she did.”
“No, you wouldn’t.”
“Yes. I’m not as strong as you.”
“You’re stronger.”
I shook my head, denying it. I was nothing without the people I loved in my life. Elizabeth. My family. Him.
I now realized that some of those tears I’d just soaked his skin with were because I was desperate not to lose him. He’d saved us—in more ways than one. His job here was done. He was free to move on if he chose.
And I wanted him to choose me.
I was just too weak to ask.
“Come on,” he whispered. “Let’s get you cleaned up before you collapse.”
He took my hand and led me to the bathroom, where he stripped both our clothes off and started the shower, letting it get steaming hot, before getting in with me. Under the spray, he kissed me gently before soaping up my loofah and washing me down, then shampooing my hair. He rinsed me off, then cleaned himself.
What could’ve been sensual felt . . . sweetly intimate.
I let the water take my fresh tears as I wrapped myself around him and kissed his chest, right next to his dove tattoo.
Trust him . . . Trust his love . . . it’s the only way to live again.
I squeezed my eyes closed as the rest of my dream of Claire came back to me. The first part, I was convinced, had helped me save my daughter. Was this part about Justin? Was she telling me to trust his love and live again?
The water pounded against my back and filled my ears, his scent swirling around me with the steam, enveloping me like a cocoon.
I was finally safe.
I could trust that, and him.
I’d made great strides in my own life and healing, but he had shown me my true strength. We were stronger together. I just had to believe it.
“I need to ask a favor.”
“Anything.”
I lifted my face and locked eyes with him. “I need you to stay.”
His fingers tightened on my hips and his jaw flexed as if he was holding his reaction in check... waiting for the catch. “For how long? Until—”
“For forever.”