Page 45

T iffany stepped in the shower, right in front of Timber, completely lacking even a hint of self-consciousness at being nude.

She felt a sense of, not relief but safety with him.

She didn’t have to worry about him because she already knew who he was inside and out, and that was something she couldn’t put a price on.

As soon as she stepped in and let the warm water pour over her head, she was half crying from the painful sensation.

He took the soap and began cleaning her back and then asked, “Are you ready for this? It’ll probably hurt like hell.”

She nodded, and he started in on her hair, gently building up the soap suds, probably hoping to give her less pain, then letting the warm soapy water slowly dissolve the dried blood that had accumulated on the top of her head and throughout her hair.

She cried out a couple times, then tried to still it.

He whispered against her ear, “No,… release the pain. Absolutely no point in hanging on to that right now.”

“It just hurts,” she whispered.

“I know, yet it probably feels really good too.”

“Yeah, how does that work?” she murmured.

“It’s life,” he said, with a laugh. When he was done shampooing her hair, he picked up the bottle of conditioner, held it up for her, and she nodded.

“Yes, please.”

He gingerly rubbed that into her hair, working it into the roots, and, when he was done, he asked, “How is that now?”

“Perfect.”

“Okay, then I’ll scrub myself up really quick, or do you want me to help you out first?”

“No,” she muttered, as she leaned back against him. “I’ll stay right here.”

“Okay, it might be a little hard for me to do me though.”

“That’s okay,” she murmured, her eyes closed, just letting the water sluice down her face and her back. “You do you right now because I can’t stand here for too much longer.”

He quickly grabbed the soap and took care of his own head.

She handed him the shampoo, and he washed his hair.

Then when he was done, he prodded her along.

“Okay, let’s get you to bed.” He turned off the water and very gently, if a little awkwardly, helped her out of the shower and wrapped her up in a towel, then he half carried her to the bed.

“You need to be taking care of that leg of yours.” Then she stopped and asked, “What the hell?”

“What?” He looked at her.

She pointed at his leg. “You went in there with your prosthetic.”

“Yeah, it’s a special one that Kat made me,” he noted, “and it’s got a special joint cover that stops them from getting wet.”

She stared at him. “That is amazing.”

“You can look at it in greater detail tomorrow,” he suggested, “but, right now, you’re too exhausted.”

“I am, but that’s fabulous,” she said. “Yet I didn’t even consider it, so, what does that say about me? I never gave it a thought.”

“You know what it says about you?” he asked. “It says that you’re very comfortable, and you’re not treating me like I’m handicapped. You’ve treated me as if I were completely normal, which is awesome because I’m fine.”

“Okay, good,” she muttered, with a small smile, “because I’m way too tired to even work my way through that or anything else.”

He chuckled. “That’s good because I don’t want it to be an issue.”

“Good,” she muttered, “I don’t either.” She moved toward the bed, then picked up her nightie, looked at it, tossed it onto her dresser. “Why bother?” Pulling back the covers, she asked, “Do you want the left side or right?”

“I’ll take whichever one you don’t take,” he replied, with a note of amusement.

She yawned, slipped under the covers, then patted the bed beside her. “Sorry, but I need to sleep.”

“You go to sleep,” he said. “Do you need something for your head?”

“No, it’s better if I don’t,” she muttered.

He didn’t say anything to that as she closed her eyes.

He made himself comfortable on the bed. He had his phone with him but wished he had a charger.

Then he spied hers and realized it was the same kind of outlet and quickly plugged his in.

He hadn’t asked her where her phone was, then realized it was probably still in his truck, unless it was back at the clinic.

That was something he probably should have thought about before he came inside, but he wouldn’t do anything about it now.

When he got under the covers and rolled over, she immediately tucked herself into his arms and, with a happy sigh, drifted off to sleep.

*

Timber hadn’t imagined Tiffany being quite so open, quite so honest, and nowhere near as accepting of his prosthetic.

She hadn’t even thought of it, which he had to admit was a huge boon in his mind.

It had always been a bit of an issue for him, as it was still a relatively new issue to deal with in terms of relationships, but, for her, it was nothing.

She didn’t even seem to consider it, except when it hit her that she might have hurt him, which was a nonissue anyway.

But he was happy, and, with his arm tucked around her, he drifted off to sleep, only to be awoken by the phone about an hour later. He checked and realized it was Badger.

When he answered in a low tone, Badger asked, “You okay? I really hesitated to call but wanted to check in.”

“I’m fine. Tiffany is sound asleep, and I’m about to do that myself.”

“Good. We’ll talk in the morning.” With that, Badger disconnected.

Timber smiled, absolutely blessed to have the friends he had. Even as he went to sleep again, his phone buzzed with a text from Toby, asking if Tiffany was okay.

Timber sent a thumbs-up and texted that she was asleep and that he was heading there himself. He got a thumbs-up back. With a smile, he fell off into dreamland himself.