Page 137 of Here With Me

He brings the plate up and grabs one of the forks.

“Smells delicious,” I say, suddenly starving.

“Try it and see.” He holds out a forkful, and I stare at it, wanting to argue that he doesn’t need to feed me. But I’m too tired to fight, so I open my mouth and let him.

ChapterTwenty-Eight

Fisher

Noah’s stubborn as shit, but after four days of me coming over, she’s finally accepting my help. I’ve kept her fed, done her laundry, vacuumed, and dusted, all while trying to keep my emotions in check. Being just friends with the person who owns my soul is as torturous as it sounds, but I refuse to leave unless it’s for work. Sleeping on her uncomfortable and too small couch is miserable as fuck, but I deal with it so she isn’t alone all night.

I’ve cut my workdays down to five hours and start at seven in the morning so I can be here by noon. Her family and Magnolia visit while I’m gone, so she always has someone around. I know she hates it, but she needs to stay off her ankle for it to heal properly. She’s gotten better at using her crutches and is down to only taking meds twice a day. All good things but all highly unlikely if she were left to her own devices.

“Can you take me to see Donut today?” she asks as I make chicken pesto wraps for lunch.

“You ready to go that far?”

“I need to get out of this house. I’m goin’ stir-crazy.” She throws her head back and groans. “Plus, if I so much as flinch, you’ll be there to grab me.”

Her smart-ass tone makes me smile. “Maybe not. Fallin’ on your butt might do ya some good.”

“Aww...is someone feelin’ underappreciated?”

Setting her food down on the table, I bring my mouth to her ear. “You show me you do each day you allow me to stay in your life.” I release my grip on the plate and step back. “I’ll take ya after we eat.”

I clean up the counter, then sit across from her.

“Thank you for lunch. It smells delicious.” Her stomach growls when she takes a big bite, and I laugh when she gets pesto all over her mouth.

“When’s the last time you ate?” I lean over and brush my thumb across her bottom lip, then lick it off.

We stare at each other, and she swallows hard. “Last night when you made dinner.”

I sit back in my chair. “Gramma Grace didn’t bring you breakfast this mornin’?”

“She had an appointment in town, and I told Momma I was fine by myself for a few hours.”

“So no one was here?”

She smirks, taking a sip of her coffee. “Nope, and look at me, I survived.”

“So I guess ya didn’t hear about Craig, then?”

“What ’bout him?” She narrows her eyes, all the sass out of her tone.

“He was granted bail this mornin’.” I clench my jaw at the thought of him being on the loose after only spending a night behind bars. Sheriff Wagner arrested him two days ago after finding him at his family’s cabin an hour away. The judge didn’t consider the charge serious enough to make the bail amount that high, so now he’ll be free until his preliminary hearing.

“Great... he’ll come after me when I’m down to one foot.”

“The sheriff said he acted deranged when he picked him up. I told your brothers and parents on my way in, so everyone’s on guard now. In fact, when your father stopped by the barn, he was carryin’ his shotgun around.”

“Jesus Christ.” She shakes her head.

“Don’t worry. I’ve turned on camera notifications, so if he’s dumb enough to show his face ’round here, we won’t miss it.”

She’s silent for a moment as she looks down at her food, then back at me. “Do you still carry?”

I finish chewing my food and wipe my mouth before responding. “You really want the answer to that?”