Chapter Sixteen
“Wade, seriously. I at least need to arrange to get my—”
“Samantha, if you think I haven’t arranged everything already, you are woefully underestimating me.”
Sam sighed and leaned into Wade’s shoulder, staring up at the wooden double doors of his house. She loved nothing more right then than his arm around her. “I don’t know about this. I mean, we barely know each other.”
“Well, no time like the present to get to know each other better, eh?” He kissed her hair and walked slowly with her up the stone steps to the door.
She let him guide her inside. Her one remaining qualm over the whole thing disappeared at the sight of her own furnishings melded in with his, as naturally as if they’d always been there. She stopped and put a trembling hand to her neck as she caught sight of herself in the large mirror over the fireplace mantel. The doctors hadn’t allowed her to look in any mirrors during her stay, and she could definitely see why now.
Between two black eyes, a swollen nose, and all rainbow bruising around her neck, she looked like something out of a zombie apocalypse movie. “God,” she whispered, tugging a few strands of her hair and wincing at the pain in her repaired scalp. Her lower lip still had two stitches in it, and she ached all over after being on her feet for the last ten minutes.
When her knees gave way, Wade caught her, scooped her up in both arms and carried her to the bedroom. “Shh, Sam, everything is just fine.”
“No, it’s fucking not,” she sniffled, wincing when she swiped at her stupid nose. “Everything is fucked.”
“Nice mouth,” he said, settling her on the bed and pulling a cool, soft sheet up over her. “I’ll look forward to availing myself of it soon.”
She stuck out her tongue at him, but exhaustion tugged her down, pulling her under. She sighed and settled into the huge pillow. When she held out her hand, Wade took it, kissed her knuckles and let her hold onto him until she drifted off.
**
Wade sighed and sucked back the beer Jax had opened for him. The two men sat at the giant island while Skye scurried around and filled the fridge with all the various salads and casseroles that had been delivered to his house. Between her real estate office and the fire and rescue crew, they had enough food to feed an army—for a month.
“Okay,” she said. “There are some great steaks in there, Wade. Why don’t we start the grill?”
“Huh? Oh, okay, sure.” He stared down at the countertop. He felt dull, packed in cotton, muted or something. Now that he had Sam home, in his home, where he wanted her, the sense of responsibility weighed heavy. He watched while his friends prepared the grill, made some potatoes and tossed a salad together. They ate mostly in silence without Sam, who was still sound asleep. He and Jax did the clean-up while Skye helped Sam take a shower.
Finally, he stood at the door, bidding them goodbye. “You’re a pretty good guy after all,” Skye said, giving him a big hug and a kiss.
“Yeah, glad to see you got with the program,” he muttered, giving her a mild whack on the ass, and making sure Jax saw it. “Thanks,” he said to them both. “A lot.”
“Call or whatever, if you need anything,” Jax said, draping his arm around Skye’s shoulders.
“Will do,” he said, closing the door behind them. With a sigh, he headed to the kitchen and opened another beer. He sat in the kitchen for a solid hour, knowing he’d done the right thing, but second-guessing himself all the same. The thought of that monster touching her, hitting her, tying her up and trying to strangle her made him shudder with barely repressed fury. He closed his fists, reopened them, then closed them again.
Up until this point, he’d been able to nursemaid and manage his plan to get her to move in with him. But now that she was here and on the mend, he had to face his own deep horror of hurting her in any way.
The sound of Sam’s scream made him startle and drop the half empty beer bottle, sending shards across the counter top.
He ran to the bedroom, pausing in the door at the sight of the empty bed. “Wade,” she called, her voice hitching. “In here.”
He ran to the bathroom door and found her curled up on the tile floor, pressed into the corner near the huge soaking tub and shower. He sat and tugged her into his lap, wrapping one of his giant towels around her. “I fell,” she said, sniffling and gripping his shirt. “I’m useless. Just take me back to my condo and leave me alone. You don’t need all this…crap.”
He sighed, and lowered his lips to her hair. “Samantha Jean, I want all this crap.”
“But, I’m all messed up, you know? I don’t know, I mean, how can I ever have normal sex again? You, you’re normal and you have needs, and I’m…I don’t think I can…” Her voice got higher and squeakier.
“Shh, shh, shh,” he said, rocking back and forth. “Just hush all that right this minute. I’m fine. You’re gonna be fine. We’ll be fine.”
“No,” she said, beating his chest with her fist. “No, we won’t be.”
“Oh, hell yes, we will be. Now,” he said, “let’s get you back in the bed.” He stood, and tried to pick her up but she flailed at him.
“I can walk, damn it.”
He stepped back, hands raised. “Whatever you wish,” he said, watching as she made her slow way back to the bedroom.
She got herself settled, then glared over at him. “Listen to me, Wade Roberts. I’m not fragile and I never have been. But I don’t know…if I’ll ever be able to…to…,” she said, as tears rolled down her cheeks.
“Honey, just relax. I love you, and I want you here, and I fixed it so you could be. So if you concentrate on getting better instead of worrying about our future sex life, it would be really super.”
She sighed and wiped at her face. “You’re bossy,” she whispered, looking down at her clenched hands.
“Yep. Now, sleep,” he insisted, kissing her forehead and turning off the bedside lamp.
“Come to bed with me? Hold me?” she asked.
He swallowed hard, unsure how he might be able to do that, exactly. “Sure, darlin’,” he said, moving to the other side of the bed and sliding under the covers.