Page 9 of Beneath the Mountain Sky (McBride Brother Lumberjacks #1)
I try to reach back for the clasp that one of the lovely nurses assisted me with before we left the hospital, but that simple movement tugs at my damaged ribs, making me hiss.
Killian’s hand quickly wraps around my wrist, holding my arm steady, preventing me from trying further. “I’ll get it.”
My breath catches at the gentleness with which he holds me for a second too long before releasing my wrist and unclasping the bra.
I let it slide from my arms and onto the bathroom floor.
His hands shift back to my waist, fingers tenderly caressing the bruises and marred skin around the waistband of my sweatpants and underwear. “Reaching and bending down to get these off would be agony…”
So is this.
I’ve never mastered the way my body responds to Killian, but today, it seems even more out of control. As if every fiber of my being knows I haven’t experienced it in a year and craves his touch the way my lungs do oxygen.
A shiver races along my spine, and Killian slides his fingers under the elastic waistband of my pants, along with the thin fabric of the underwear beneath, and draws them down my legs, his warm breath floating over my bare skin.
Goosebumps pebble.
My knees tremble.
He urges me to step free, then tosses the sweats and panties onto the pile of clothes on the floor, leaving me completely and utterly exposed.
Killian stays at my back, but I don’t miss the way his breath hitches.
Only when I glance up at the mirror and meet his gaze in the reflection, it isn’t purely the normal heat there when he looks at me.
All I see is anger clouding his eyes, making the normally bright blue darken like a wild sea.
Conflict rages there, churning violently as he holds me steady with his arm around me and with his gaze.
A moment passes.
Another.
Until he finally slides his arm free and grips my elbow, urging me toward the tub filled with bubbles about to overflow—exactly how I like it.
With Killian to lean on, I manage to swing one leg over the edge and then the other. I sink into the hot water with a satisfied groan as Killian releases his grip on my arm. Instead of backing away and slipping out of the bathroom, he slowly lowers himself to his knees at the head of the tub.
I peer over my shoulder at him. “What are you doing?”
He reaches to the ledge beside the tub and grabs a bottle of shampoo from it, giving me a half-grin. “You need to wash your hair to feel clean and comfortable, and you aren’t doing it on your own without causing yourself unnecessary discomfort and potentially getting your stitches wet.”
Tears immediately well in my eyes, emotion clogging my throat. I have to turn away quickly before he sees me completely fall apart.
This is the Killian I know.
The one I remember.
Kind.
Thoughtful.
Caring.
Always dropping to his knees to give me everything and anything I ever wanted or needed—even when I didn’t ask for it.
I don’t know a version of this man who would do something that would make me leave like that.
My hot tears hit the water.
Hopefully, the steam rising from the surface will conceal them enough that he won’t notice. But knowing him, he will, no matter how hard I might try to hide them.
He does me the great kindness of not mentioning it as he grabs a cup from beside the sink. “Tilt your head back.”
I do as he asks, closing my eyes and letting it fall toward him.
Hot water cascades over my hair, shoulders, and into the tub. He repeats the process until my thick locks are thoroughly soaked, and my tears are mostly gone.
Silence lingers in the small space, the sole sound him lathering the shampoo in his large hands before he sinks his fingers into my hair and starts massaging my skull as he works it in.
“Oh, God…”
The moan slips from my lips before I can bite it back, and he immediately stills.
“Shit. I’m sorry. Did I hurt you? I know you hit your head. I wasn’t thinking. I?—”
“No!” I reach up, not even caring about the stab in my side with the movement, so I can wrap my hand around his wrist. “Keep going. I’m fine. It just…feels so good. The hot water and your hands…”
Killian was right—soaking in the near-scalding bath was exactly what I needed to ease all the aches and pains that were bordering on unbearable by the time we got up the mountain.
Slowly, his hands return to gentler movements, working in the shampoo.
All the tight muscles and bruised parts of me relax into the weightlessness of the water. Knowing he’s washing away the last remnants of that river and anything else that might have clung to my hair helps me take what feels like my first truly deep breath since the moment I woke in that hospital.
He urges my head back gently into the water to wash it, then resumes the same treatment with the conditioner, gliding his fingers through my hair to work out any snarls without tugging too hard.
Like it always has, those bubbles and the soft scent of honey and lavender help soothe more than merely my battered body.
It helps clear my head.
At least, somewhat.
That massive black hole still fills the space the last year should in my memory, but I’m slowly able to process everything that’s happened since Killian found me in the river.
All the conversations with the doctor, the sheriff, Raven, and Killian…
And one thing has become abundantly clear—I need answers.
Not more questions, which is all anyone seems to have right now.
But where the hell am I going to get them?
Killian rinses the conditioner from my hair, threading his fingers through the smooth strands in a rhythm that causes a low hum of contentment in my chest.
Almost instantly, he stops.
His hands slide away, and I sense him retreating from the tub. “I’ll leave you to enjoy your bath.”
My eyes snap open in time to catch him tossing a towel onto the rack, his shoulders tense, jaw locked tight.
He pauses for merely a second at the jamb but doesn’t look back. “I hope it helps.”
With that, he closes the door with a deafening click.
It somehow feels like he was closing the door on something else—whatever this electricity still sizzling between us is, the feelings I can’t pretend to ignore when—for me—they were alive and well only a few days ago.
None of this makes any sense.
And finding the answers just may destroy the one person I’ve ever loved in this world.