Page 45

45

ZOEY

I ache everywhere.

But I’m alive, so there’s that. Plus, I have Warner’s warm body beside me as I hobble up the front steps.

Really, I’m not that broken. Just a bruised ankle and a broken wrist. All in all, I came out okay. I choose to forget the number of stitches the doctor said he put in me.

“Are you hungry?” Warner holds the door open for me while also keeping an arm outstretched in case I stumble.

Bruce wanders out of the guest bedroom and meanders up to me. I scratch behind his ears, always comforted by the big dog’s presence.

“It’s two a.m. I just need to sleep.” I smile at Warner, softening my rejection of his offer.

“You heard her. Bedtime. We’ve got this.” Abram comes in right behind me, sliding a hand under my elbow to lend his support.

Normally, I’d wave him off, but tonight, I don’t mind having someone to lean on.

“I’ll get you ice for your ankle.” Carver heads to the refrigerator.

“Did you have enough blankets? I know we commandeered a bunch, but I don’t need mine,” Byron offers.

Donovan keeps quiet, but his eyes are locked on each one of my movements, as if he’s ready to lunge forward if I tip over.

“Zoey?” Warner’s voice has me glancing his way. “Do you want me to stay?”

Honestly, I’m surprised he’d even want to with the overbearing presence that is my brothers.

“She has us,” Abram grumps.

“Stop it.” I shush my older brother. “I want Warner here.”

Just because Abram wants to take care of me doesn’t give him the right to kick Warner out.

I take back my hand, maneuver around the mastiff, and shuffle toward the bedroom. The mattress creaks as I sit down on it, and my ankle thanks me for the relief.

Carver comes in, holding a towel filled with ice, and Byron approaches, holding his blanket.

“Don’t you dare put that on my bed. No way will I be able to sleep, knowing you don’t have any bedding.” I wave a finger at him, but immediately regret how harsh the words came out when I see the lost look on my brother’s face.

They all share it.

And for the first time tonight, I take a moment to imagine if it had been one of them who climbed up in the tree house instead of me.

How would I feel if I had found Abram or Donovan crumbled on the ground? What would it have been like to have to rush Byron or Carver to the emergency room?

My brothers are tough, strong men. Plenty of rugby games have ended with them bleeding from some random gouges.

But to see any of them truly hurt, my heart would break. I would physically ache for them. I would want to do anything in my power to take their pain away.

That’s all they’re doing now. Trying to ease my pain.

And I love them so much. I get the urge to cry, just like I’m back in the tree house, discovering the clues to my grandmother’s loneliness.

I’m lucky to be so surrounded by love. Never having to doubt that there’s someone who cares for me. Not when my brothers are near.

Despite the pain in my leg, I push back up to a standing position and hold my arms out to Byron. He moves forward with hopeful eyes, offering the blanket again. But I don’t grab the material. Instead, I wrap him in a hug.

“I don’t need another blanket, but could you make those pancakes I like tomorrow morning?”

“With chocolate chips?” His arms encircle me but stay loose enough to keep from irritating any of my injuries.

“Those are the ones.”

When I step back, he looks more centered. He has a direction. A purpose. Even if it’s something as simple as making me breakfast.

I hobble around the group, giving each of my brothers a hug before returning to the bed.

“Okay, time for some privacy. I need to change.” My T-shirt is torn with splotches of blood all over it.

After final good nights, three of my brothers file out of the room, leaving only Abram, Warner, and me.

“She said privacy,” the eldest Gunner repeats, hard eyes never leaving Warner, who hovers beside my bed.

“Abram.”

The guy barely glances my way. Despite the swell of love I’m still feeling for my family, I am done with this caveman routine.

“Warner has seen me naked.”

I feel more satisfaction than I should when my tough older brother flinches and blushes.

But I push on. “When I said I want Warner here, I meant with me. In my bed.”

“You’re injured, Zoey! You shouldn’t be having …” He trails off, and if I wasn’t so exhausted, I’d find this whole exchange hilarious.

“Don’t worry. Banging is not on the menu tonight.”

Warner lets out a choked noise, and Abram’s face gets a funny shade of red.

Normally, I would enjoy sparring with Abram, assured that I could eventually get my way. But tonight, I’m too exhausted. I plop down on the bed with a groan. Then, I discover that sitting up is too much work. After collapsing back completely, I stare at the ceiling and try to figure out how to convince my brother to go.

“Warner is staying. Go away, Abram. I love you,” is the best I can come up with.

There’s a pause, and then I can practically hear my brother glaring.

“She needs to sleep. No trying anything.” His heavy footfalls alert me that he’s heading out.

I half expect my bedroom door to be slammed shut, but there’s only a gentle click of the latch falling in place.

Warner’s face appears above mine, a worried grimace on his mouth.

“Don’t worry about him,” I mutter. “He’s just being overprotective.”

“I’m not worried about him. I’m worried about you.”

A delicious warmth caresses my face, and I realize Warner has laid his palm on my cheek.

“How are you doing?” he asks.

I take a mental rundown of my situation. “Sore. Some of the cuts sting. Tired.” I try a shrug, but then I have to bite back a groan. Even though I stifled the sound, I can tell from Warner’s furrowed brow that he picked up on the pain that just shot through me. Before he can go into overprotective mode, too, I add on a last important bit. “But I’m happy.”

“Happy?” Now, his brows are up, and if I had more strength in my jelly arms, I’d reach up to trace them.

Instead, I nod. “It could’ve been worse, but I’ll heal. Plus, my brothers are here. And you’re here. So, yeah, I’m happy. Can you help me change?”

Warner’s eyes rove over my face, and I wonder if he’s searching for more injuries. He’ll probably find some, seeing as how I’m pretty beat up. Then, he leans down and brushes a light kiss on the tip of my nose before disappearing out of my eyeline.

“You want the loose flannel ones?” There’s a sound of drawers being pulled open.

“Sure. Anything to help you keep it in your pants.”

He snorts, and then he’s by my side again, helping me sit up so we can pull my tattered T-shirt off. And I can’t stop a pout when he doesn’t spare a glance at my bare chest.

“See? They’re not even on, and you’re already uninterested in half-naked me,” I grumble.

Warner kneels in front of me, working his way up the buttons, but he pauses at my words. When I look down to meet his eyes, I find they are almost entirely black.

“Never think that I am uninterested in you, Zoey. Never.”

A shiver sneaks through me that has nothing to do with the fact that my shirt is half open. I reach up to twirl a strand of his soft hair around my finger.

“How do you feel about putting banging back on the menu?”

That finally gets a grin out of him, but Warner shakes his head and finishes with the buttons. “You’re evil,” he informs me. “A wicked temptress.”

“Sounds like the perfect partner for a werewolf.” I keep my voice low even though there’s a door in between my words and my brothers.

Warner chooses not to respond, and he slips off my torn pajama pants with efficient hands, then has me covered again seconds later.

“Under the covers, temptress.” He pulls the blankets back for me.

“Are you staying?” I try to keep the vulnerability out of my voice as I crawl up the bed.

“Do you want me to?”

“Yes,” I respond almost before he finishes his question.

Warner toes off his boots, hangs his jacket over a chair in the corner, then climbs onto the mattress beside me. Only he keeps his jeans on and lies on top of the covers. Before I can direct him to take his pants off and actually get in bed with me, he curves his body around mine, becoming the perfect big spoon.

“Can I ask you something?” His question brushes against my ear, bringing warmth and the smell of him.

“With all the questions I’m always throwing at you, I think you’re due.”

Warner chuckles, and I love the feel of the vibration against my back. “Abram, Byron, Carver, Donovan … Zoey? Do you have twenty-one more siblings wandering around Denver?”

A goofy smile spreads across my face. “Mom liked the ABC idea, but after five kids, she said she was officially done. Skipping to the end of the alphabet was her way of making that point. And getting her tubes tied.”

I expect Warner to snort or maybe start chuckling again. But he stays silent, and the quiet makes me curious enough to turn. When my eyes catch on Warner’s face, I read a mixture of amusement, bafflement, and an eerie level of focus.

“I want to meet your mom.”

“Really? You want to meet more of my family? Even after them?” My fingers flick toward the bedroom door.

Warner gazes at me, and again, he surprises me when he doesn’t immediately offer up a joke. Instead, he murmurs a determined, “Yes.”

The one word leaves me reeling, and I answer with the first thought that comes to my mind.

“I don’t think she’ll come to Pine Falls. She’s never been back since she left.”

His mouth struggles against a frown, and eventually, he leans in to press a gentle kiss against my forehead.

“We’ll figure it out. Time for you to sleep. I’ll ask more questions later.”