Page 31 of Do It Yourself
Once I hear the door squeak open, I curl into myself and close my eyes, trying to stay calm by taking deep breaths. I know he’ll be back but my body is responding like I’ve been abandoned, which is ridiculous. If I wasn’t completely emotionally drained, I would be irritated with myself. Instead, I keep my eyes closed and listen to the sounds of Jude bringing in and unloading all the food for the weekend.
I must have drifted off because before I know it, a soft touch on my cheek and sweet whispers have my eyes fluttering open. Jude’s face fills my vision and I bite down hard on my lip to stop a soft smile from appearing. “Hey, it’s getting late. Will you have something to eat and drink before I get you in bed?” I don’t even have the energy to tease him about the possible innuendo.
My gaze flicks to his hands where he’s holding a string cheese and a glass of water.
I appreciate that he doesn’t expect me to try and eat a full meal. I don’t have it in me to attempt more than the bare minimum.
I offer a short nod, holding my hand out for the water glass. He hands it over and starts to open the cheese stick as I take small sips of water. There is something so fascinating about how his hands flex as he pulls apart the plastic. He doesn’t stop there, either. He starts to pull apart the cheese into smaller strings. My heart flutters as he holds up the first string.
I alternate between sips of water and strings of cheese until both are gone. “Feel any better?” I can’t talk, embarrassment finally crashing over me, so I offer a shrug. “Do you want anymore?” I shake my head, Jude nods and takes the glass from my hand. He stands and takes care of the trash and puts the empty glass in the sink. I can’t stop myself from continuing to take in how his body moves. My lips are dry, that’s the only reason my tongue darts out. No other reason.
“Alright, Trouble, let’s get you to bed. Downstairs?” I nod and stand, getting ready to tell him he doesn’t need to help me but I can’t bring myself to open my mouth as Jude walks back up to me and picks me up again.
Despite my new found silence, I can’t stop the squeak as he cradles me in his strong arms. I shouldn’t love how it feels to be picked up and carried around. I’m a big girl and I’ve never been manhandled before. He’s not manhandling me, really, he’s being incredibly sweet as he slowly walks us down the steps. I gesture to the door of my temporary bedroom. As Jude tucks me into my bed, I remember that I never got dressed today and I’ve been in a pair of shorts and a tank top with no bra.Jesus.I don’t think this could get anymore mortifying for me. “Alright, get some rest. I’ll do a round and make sure everything’s all shut down.” Jude reassures me as he tucks the blanket into my sides.
“Wait!”
This is it.
This is how it gets more mortifying.
Jude’s eyes mirror mine as they widen, both of us surprised by my outburst. “Could you, uh,” I cough, the words fighting to come out, “Would you mind staying with me for a little longer?”
I don’t want to be alone and Jude has been so sweet to me.
Jude nods and kicks off his boots, laying next to me over the blankets in the bed. “Yeah. I can stay. You just relax.” I can’t stop the sigh of relief, deciding that comfort is more important than any embarrassment I’ll feel tomorrow morning. “Thank you.” I mutter as I close my eyes, snuggling as close to his body as possible. The bed shifts as Jude gets comfortable and I give in to what I’ve been craving, lifting my head and using his chest as my pillow.
His arm wraps around my shoulder, pulling my body flush against his side and I feel like I can finally breathe for the first time since seeing those baby toys. I’m so content, I almostconvince myself it’s all in my imagination when I hear a rough “Anything for you, Trouble.” before I snuggle even closer, if that’s even possible, and slowly drift to sleep again.
Chapter Twenty-Two
JUDE
I’m convinced I must have gotten into some type of accident on my drive to the cabin. I’m hooked up to a ventilator in a medically induced coma and this is the scenario my brain is giving me before it goes offline for good. That’s the only explanation that makes sense to me. Mabel Warren, who as far as I could tell has hated my guts and only tolerates me because of her family, is cuddled against my side after she let me hold her for hours while she cried.
Every single atom in my body wants me to kick my pants off and stay in bed for as long as Mabel will let me but I can’t relax knowing there may be unlocked doors or extra lights on. I promised her I would make sure the cabin was locked up.
There was no way in hell I’d leave Mabel exposed like that.
No matter how little I want to leave this bed.
Continuing to rub small circles on her back, I double check to make sure she’s actually asleep. She’s adorable, her breaths coming in and out in an even rhythm. I feel like it’s safe enough toslowlymaneuver my body out from under hers.
It’s a long process but I’d rather chew off my own arm than wake Mabel up after the emotional tsunami she’s been through today. I do finally make it out from under her and I only looked alittle ridiculous but there are no witnesses and I’m out of Mabel’s room with my ego intact.
Closing the door quietly, I climb up the stairs and make quick work of checking and verifying all the doors and windows are locked. Once that is all checked and double checked, I decide it’d be better for me to head to bed as well. My muscles are sore from the long day of not using my body as much as I usually do.
I’d refused help from anyone while I loaded up my truck with all the food needed for the long weekend, then the long solo drive and catching and holding Mabel tight and close. I’m not complaining about having her in my arms, I’d wish it was different circumstances but I feel a warmth in my chest when I think that Mabel was able to find comfort with me in a hard moment for her.
I know I was the only one around to offer comfort but I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. I can only hope she doesn’t hate me more when she wakes up tomorrow. I head back downstairs with my luggage to pick a room.
Picking a room is difficult.
Mabel’s room is very secluded for what it is, a bathroom separating it from any of the other rooms. There are two rooms that are relatively close enough that I believe it’ll be possible to hear if she’s having another incident where she needs help but far enough away that she doesn’t necessarily feel like I’m pushing myself onto her.
Once I settle on a room that’s close but not too close, I make quick work of changing into a pair of plaid pajama pants and a plain t-shirt. The room is nice, just big enough that I don’t feel crowded or like I’m going to run into a wall every time I turn around. The bed is comfortable, damn, I need to upgrade my mattress at the Bunk House.
Despite the stellar accommodations, I’m having a hell of a time trying to sleep. The haunted look in Mabel’s eyes, the wayshe clung to me like if she let go there was no way she wouldn’t crumble; I don’t know how to forget that, how to move on from today like it never happened.
