Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 84250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
I climb out of the truck and open her door for her, nodding when she whispers a thank you.
I know better, but instead of closing the door and climbing back inside so I can take her to the vet's office, I step up to her.
I fully expect her to pull away, to glare at the front of Madison's house and remind me that she doesn't want people to think we're dating. Instead, she rests her head on my shoulder and presses her palm to my stomach when I wrap her in a hug.
There's nothing sexual about the embrace, although that urge is always simmering right under the surface where she's concerned.
It only lasts for a few seconds before she pulls back, but I find myself grateful to have had that time with her.
"You okay?" I ask, cupping her cheek after taking a step back.
She nods, but I don't find any assurance in her eyes when she looks at me.
I step back further and close her door because I know there's no point in arguing with her. She's not the type to just open up and hand her problems to someone else, and for the most part, that's commendable. She wants to handle her business on her own, and I imagine any help she's gotten in the past has come with conditions. I know for a fact she doesn't want to feel like she owes anyone anything, but she's not quick to accept a favor even if it doesn't come with strings.
"This is the absolute worst time for all of this shit," she mutters once I'm on the road heading to her work.
"Did something more happen when you dropped Larkin off?"
She pulls in a deep breath. "Madison has her Christmas tree up now, and that isn't a big deal. I imagine a lot of people have had theirs up for a while with how close it is to the holidays, but I was planning on doing Christmas after the first of the year when I got my tax refund back."
"Do you have a tree?"
"It's in storage," she mutters. "There's never enough hours in the damn day."
I watch, my heart breaking, as she leans her head against her window, her eyes squeezing shut.
I open my mouth to offer to take care of it for her, but I know she isn't telling me these things because it's her way of asking for help. I think the woman would rather pull off her fingernails than open her mouth and admit she's struggling.
"Damnit," she mutters. "Did I even pay that bill last month?"
I look over at her and watch her throat work on a swallow. I've seen people at their wit's end. It didn't take long for soldiers to go from being okay to being in crisis when I was in the military, and I think Claire has been hanging on by a thread for a very long time.
I decide before I make it to Corbin's clinic that asking for forgiveness will be better than asking permission, so I keep my mouth shut even though my plans for the day have now just drastically changed.
"If you need the day off, I can take you back home," I say when I pull up outside of the clinic.
"I need a month off," she mutters. "But it just can't happen."
She waits for me to climb out instead of popping out of the truck, and I count it as a victory that she isn't in a huge rush to get away from me as she has been so many times before.
I want to tell her that things are going to work out, but the guilt for having a conversation about her with Barrett still swims inside of me. I know she'd walk away from me completely if she found out about that, and I'd never risk hinting that I know what's coming her way soon. If it all works out the way it should, she'll never know that I'm the one behind the trust Barrett is setting up for her.
I step into her space when I open her door before she can climb out, and as if the gods have ruled in my favor twice in one day, she doesn't look annoyed when she shifts and I position myself between her legs.
"People are going to talk," she says, but instead of pushing me away when she lifts her hands, she runs her fingers up and down the zipper on my jacket.
"Does that bother you?"
"A little," she answers honestly. "I've been the topic of way too many conversations since I came to town."
"Something else will come along for them to chat about, Claire," I assure her. "They talk because they're bored."
She darts her eyes away, and I can tell she doesn't fully believe me.
I cup her jaw, falling a little in love with the way her eyes flutter at the contact before she looks up at me.